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Charles’ eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Daisy? How strange. We just had someone adopt her today.”
Abbe froze, a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Wait, what?” she asked.
Charles nodded. “Thishoneyof a man came in first thing this morning and said that he wanted Daisy.”
“What was his name?” she asked carefully.
Charles could tell something was off. His eyes read Abbe’s face. “It can’t be the same guy,” he said immediately.
“Was his name Rafe?” she asked.
Charles looked shocked. “Rafewas the asshole from yesterday? That sweetheart with the blue eyes and the amazing ass?”
Abbe needed to sit down but there was no chair handy. She put her hands on the counter of the reception desk and braced herself. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.
"How could you let him adopt Daisy, Charles?" Abbe said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disappointment.
Charles frowned, genuinely confused. "Abbe, I thought Rafe was a great guy. He seemed kind, intelligent, and like he definitely had the means to care for a special needs dog. He didn’t even blink when I explained how much her vet bills were. I had no idea you had already turned him down. He didn’t mention you at all."
Abbe's frustration grew. "He's not the right person for Daisy. I told him that yesterday. And what do you mean, you thought he waskind?"
“He was! He was funny and charming and Daisy took right to him!” Charles protested. “He told me his family had always had retrievers. He even had a picture of his childhood dog in hiswallet,” Charles gushed, half-smitten with this person Rafe had convinced him he was.
“First of all, who carriespicturesanymore?” Abbe blathered, beside herself, like that was yet another one of his many character faults. She paced around, her hands in her hair.
Charles leaned forward and stopped her, concern etching lines on his face. "I didn't know, Abbe. I swear. I thought I’d found a good home for Daisy."
Abbe sighed, realizing her anger was misdirected. "I know you were trying to help, Charles. It's just... he put on an act for you, just so he could get Daisy and stick it to me, but I saw this guy as he really was yesterday. Arrogant, privileged. He's not the type of person who should be taking care of a senior dog who requires sacrifice. He’s doing this for revenge because I told him no."
Charles looked doubtful. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You think he’s been carrying around a picture in his wallet for twenty years or so, so he could get back at you for insulting him yesterday?” he asked dubiously.
Put that way, Abbe had to admit it sounded ridiculous. Still, it was a mistake, and she had to fix it. Without wasting another moment, Abbe grabbed her phone and dialed the number Rafe had left with Charles. It rang for what felt like an eternity before he finally answered.
"Hello?" Rafe's voice came through the line, casual and unconcerned.
Abbe clenched her teeth, struggling to keep her composure. "Rafe, it's Abbe. We need to talk."
There was a pause, and then Rafe chuckled lightly. "Ah, Abbe! I was wondering when you'd call. I assume you heard about Daisy?"
"That's right," Abbe replied tersely. "I need you to return her immediately. We discussed this yesterday."
Rafe's voice grew softer. "Abbe, I promise you, Daisy is in good hands. I've already grown attached to her.”
“Oh, sure, you’ve grown attached in, what, two hours?” she retorted. “Look, Daisy shouldn’t have to suffer just because you want to prove something to me. Please.”
“I have nothing to prove to you,” he replied briskly. “But if it will make you feel better, how about we meet in Boston Commons Park? I’m there right now, walking her. I'll show you how well she's doing."
Abbe's jaw tightened. She wanted to refuse, to demand he return Daisy this instant, but a small voice in the back of her mind urged her to see for herself. Maybe she was wrong about Rafe.
"Fine," she reluctantly agreed. "I’ll meet you by the statue of the guy on the horse."
There was a pause. “You mean the statue of George Washington?” he asked, like everyone knew that.
“Isthatwho it is?” she said like she was finally getting a joke someone had told her days ago.
“Yes,” Rafe said, with a laugh. “The father of our country.”
“Who has time to read a plaque!” she replied feeling silly and trying not to laugh along with him. “There are a lot of statues of colonial guys on horses in Boston and I always just walk by that one. And this isn’t the point! The point isDaisy. I want her back.”
