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Catie joined me at the counter and started thumbing through stacks of promotional literature on the surface. I reviewed the formal adoption agreement before signing it.
“Or you could always leave him with me. I’d be happy to watch him.”
I stopped signing and glanced at Catie, seeing sincerity in her steady gaze. An electric tingle shivered through me. No doubt about it. I was leaving Barks and Recreation with a brand-new hound and a little closer to being in love with a red-haired goddess.
16
CATIE
“Who does your marketing?” I asked.
Standing this close to Callan was playing havoc with my senses. All the vet office smells faded, replaced by the aroma of fresh, clean, hot man. Focusing on the promotional flyer in my hands required a Herculean effort. All I wanted to do was stare at him, maybe kiss him again, the way I had in the kennel area. There’d been promises, passion, and something else in his embrace, something I wanted to explore further and at my leisure.
“Mostly me.” Elizabeth’s answer pulled me back to the here and now. “I’m pretty much Jill of all trades around here. Except for a couple dedicated volunteers and one on-call veterinarian who kindly donates his time, Barks and Recreation is all me.” Elizabeth took the paper Callan had signed and replaced it with another and tipped her head toward the postcard in my hand. “Sucks, doesn’t it? I’m a vet-tech, not an artist.”
I bit my lower lip while I studied the piece. “It’s not heinous.”
Elizabeth gaped at me, like I’d sprouted a second head or a third eye.
“Catie-belle is a marketing and graphic design genius.” He beamed a large smile my direction. “She created my new release artwork and honestly, it’s a masterpiece.” He laid a hand on my shoulder, then went back to signing.
“How cool! What would you change? I’m always open to suggestions. I’ve been practicing my Canva skills in my spare time. Wait…do you freelance? Can I pay you to fix them?”
“I am freelance, but I can’t ask you to pay me.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I can afford you…uh, maybe. I do have a small marketing budget.” She named a figure.
I coughed, her entire year’s budget less than what I’d normally charge for five hours of work. “Um…you have volunteers?”
“Several. No budget for payroll.” Elizabeth chewed her lower lip. “We rely on the adoption fees and donations to keep the doors open.”
I’d paid a little extra to the rescue operation where I’d found Frank, because they were likely in the same position. Barely keeping the important business running.
I caught Elizabeth’s gaze. “I adopted my cat from a rescue operation like yours. I totally understand how that works, and more importantly, how vital this service is to animals and those who love them.” Decision made; I’d donate my time to Barks. “How about if I fill out whatever paperwork you need from volunteers, and instead of physically working here, I’ll change up your marketing pieces. You can save your marketing budget for printing the pieces, although I can probably get someone to offer copies at a greatly reduced price, if not for free.” I was making enough money on the Bad Dog charity project that, if I had to, I’d pay to produce the pieces myself. I didn’t need an extra-large screen. I leaned on the counter, then propped my chin on my fist.
As soon as he saw my head over the barrier, Elvis woofed and danced, tail wagging frantically.
Elizabeth stuck out her hand. “Deal. If you’re sure?”
“If you really want to pay me, we might be able to work out a trade…cat toys for postcards. Give me your web address and your social media accounts and let me look at it. I can have a preliminary outline for changes by next week.”
The smile breaking out on Elizabeth’s face brightened the room by a couple thousand watts.
Callan dragged his wallet from his back pocket and withdrew two credit cards. He handed one to Elizabeth. “You can run the adoption fee on this one,” he said, then held out the other one. “And I want to put a donation on this card, if that’s allowable.” He told her how much he wanted to donate.
Elizabeth burst into tears. “That will pay for food for all our animals for three months. Thank you.”
Callan draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me close. He gulped a couple times before he replied. “It’s nothing.”
Oh, it was not nothing. He’d just made Elizabeth’s year. I slid my arm around his waist and glanced up at him. “Hey, you know how you’re a social media darling… Would you be game for Barks’ new literature to feature you and Elvis?”
“Anything that will help.” His green-eyed gaze held steady on mine.
Ideas were percolating in my brain, bubbling and popping around. Elvis rose on his hind legs, propped his front paws on the gate separating him from us and barked enthusiastically. Elizabeth unlatched and opened the gate, freeing Elvis to come out to join us.
Callan dropped to one knee and braced for impact. Elvis barreled into him. I positioned my knee behind Callan’s back and between the two of us, we corralled the eager dog.
I pulled my phone from my purse and started snapping photos of the happy pair. I knew of a Twitter account that focused only on dogs finding their forever homes. I’d upload the best shot there and tag the account and Callan. Just having his name on the post could make it go viral and garner lots of likes, shares and reposts.
