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He bellowed a laugh but didn’t hear her response. It was like the line went dead. He eyed his phone, expecting a black screen with the dead battery sign—but he still had seventy-three percent remaining.
Did she just hang up on his arse?‘I just don’t do awkward after sex?’What the fuck was up with that?
“How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. What was it this time? Let me guess, you had a gas leak at home?” Casey sneered from somewhere behind the reception desk.
Only her pitch-black strands, cut in a short bob, showed as she sat on her chair and leaned to the side, probably to pet some stray lice ball.
“Oh, no, wait. Don’t tell me. Your car broke down? Or the bus took a wrong turn?” Casey pulled herself up and leered over the thick, dark-rimmed glasses resting on the tip of her nose.
A week ago, after taking the picture of the kennel, Errin promptly found herself in a job interview with the owner, Colleen. They’d hit it off, and although Errin hated dogs with a passion, she desperately needed a job. Since she didn’t get the part in this musical out in Jersey, she now had to deal with these stinking, barking, biting and shitting mongrels.
And let’s not forget Colleen’s daughter and co-owner, Casey. Her snarky attitude had more bite to it now that Errin had a mere four hours of sleep last night before she dragged her ass over to work.
The goodbyes to her brothers at the airport had been very emotional for all the Walsh siblings. The moment she had gotten used to having her brothers back around, they went back home to Jersey.
Errin swallowed back a response and decided just this once—and for this time only—she would ignore Casey’s snotty remarks.
No, she would not stoop to her level today. She would let things slide and take the high road just for once in her life. Come on, did she always had to speak up when someone would bitch to her? Nah. Forget about Casey. She had to bethe very last personon the list to waste her time and energy on.
She limped around the reception desk and Casey talked in her signature high-pitched pet voice. Like she was talking to a baby, but she yapped to a wide-eyed Chihuahua rescue dog, shuddering on her lap. “Now, Chico, did you see her ignoring mommy? Bad, bad Errin. Yes, my little prince,” she said, holding the dog in her stick figure arms.
“Did you hear about the Chihuahua that killed the German Shepard?” Errin asked.
Casey startled. “Um, no. Why? What happened?” she furrowed her brows.
“It got stuck in his throat.” Errin shook with laughter after Casey pursed her lips and turned her head away from Errin.
Errin had figured out a long time ago that she wasn’t everybody’s cup of tea. She could be a bit too much, always speaking her mind and laughing the loudest.
While growing up, she often experienced that not everyone handled her energy. Her family didn’t call her Bunny after the Energizer Bunny for nothing.
But being loud didn’t mean she loved to steal someone’s limelight by putting others down or putting herself first. She loved to spend time with people, to have deep conversations and listen to their stories.But when someone was a total bitch to her? Well, she wasn’t like her sister Kate.
Errin wouldalwaysfight back. And by doing so, she often made matters worse.But fuck it. And most of all—fuck Casey.
She was right on time this morning, so where did Casey come off talking to her like that? Okay, she had been late a few times in the week she’d worked here. But it wasn’t like she would also leave right on the dot every day.
That damned ankle was already weighing her down. She’d brought one crutch with her on the bus to walk around—albeit slow. She’d put some sports tape on her injury, just in case the swelling returned. She balanced on the one crutch and peered at Casey, but Casey didn’t give her the time of day.
She didn’t even mention anything about the damn crutch or even ask her if she was doing okay. Ugh, nevermind. Errin needed to get going if she was to walk all the dogs in the morning and throw some balls around in the park to give the mutts some exercise.
She entered the room with the sixteen crates, filled with rescue dogs in all shapes and sizes. Jacky was barking his ugly little head off. On the first day, the Jack Russell Terrier had gone straight for her calf with his sharp teeth when she opened his door. She wasn’t making that mistake again, not while being this wobbly on her feet.
Normally she would take three or four social dogs at a time to the park and take the assholes alone out. But she couldn’t make the normal six runs to the park with this ankle. The assholes, as she’d called the anti-social dogs, just had to play nice and tag along with the rest.
She’d have to take eight dogs at a time to reduce the number of runs to two. No biggie. Just be the alpha of the pack, right?
She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and hopped on one crutch to the back of the kennel. She would take Jacky out of his jail cell last and make him fall in line with the rest of the fuckers.Yeah, keep on dreaming.
She’d put the leashes on the first eight dogs and walked them out of the kennel, leaving her crutch behind. It was kind of a hassle, but so far so good.
The November morning air chilled her face. Nothing like she was used to back home, but still. She worescuffed sneakers, dirty faded boyfriend jeans with a dark blue cable sweater that had gathered enormous holes. She would definitely not waste any quality stuff from her closet at the Pawty Hard Kennel.
The struggle of keeping the hairy bunch in line was keeping her warm, but Jacky was pulling like he was in for a race. She jerked his leash.
“Jacky, no. Stay with us. Stop pulling,” she said while grabbing a better hold of three other leashes in her right hand. One leash slipped through her fingers and Border Collie Jones ran around the corner like his ass was on fire.
“Jones!” she shouted, making the other dogs bark in angst.
