The Dalmatian Dilemma

by Cheryl Harper

  She needed to get inside before the day got any worse.

  One corner of Sean’s mouth quirked up. “Enjoy your day off? Looks like it gave you a run for your money, boss.”

  Boss. The way he drawled the word... She’d never been able to decide if it was irritation or something else that turned her stomach all...loopy.

  “Joined a new gym. I think it’s working.” Reyna climbed the three steps up to her door. “Thanks for taking care of the office today. I’ll get an assistant manager in here soon. Can you handle next Saturday, too?” Casual. She’d been asking him to change his normal schedule to cover her Saturdays pretty regularly for the past two months. Trusting him not to catch on made no sense, but she needed his help one last time.

  He slowly shook his head. “Can’t do it, boss. My grandmother is turning eighty this year, so my aunts have got this big blowout planned. I’m on duty Saturday to put up the decorations and build whatever is required. There will be building.” He braced his elbows on his knees, calling her attention to those legs. Surely that hadn’t been his purpose.

  “You wouldn’t want me to disappoint Mimi, would you?” He tilted his head to the side.

  “No.” Reyna unlocked her front door. “I’ll find someone else to cover for me.” She’d almost stepped inside when she stopped. “Is Mimi her name? Or is it a cooler version of Granny?”

  His eyebrows shot up before Sean chuckled. “Cooler? I’ll have to tell her you said so. Her full name is Mary Elizabeth O’Malley, so it started as one and became the other.”

  Since she’d never had a grandparent to call by any name, Reyna thought that was pretty sweet. Her father’s parents had lived in Cuba until they died, so she’d never met them. And her mother had taken her father’s generous divorce settlement and headed for Europe when Reyna was still young. They mainly communicated through an occasional email and yearly birthday cards.

  The temptation to linger was too strong. “Should I call you Wakefield? I thought we had an agreement, but that ‘boss’ is back.”

  He grimaced. “Sean and Reyna, please. The urge to salute is too strong otherwise.”

  She nodded. “Good night.”

  Reyna closed the door and locked it before heading for her shower. The problem with living next door to Sean Wakefield was how easy it would be to check to see if he’d gone inside, too, especially now that he was “Sean.” Last names meant distance. Would she regret eliminating that?

  If he was still sitting outside, Reyna wasn’t sure she’d be able to control the urge to go ask more about Mimi or spill some of the anxiety about what would come next for her career. He had broad shoulders and a calm certainty that things would work out.

  The temptation to rely on both was new.

  And dangerous.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ON SUNDAY MORNING, Sean completed the necessary run with his informal support group only because Mira Peters would make him miserable otherwise. Living on-site gave him access to a good group of vets-turned-friends to discuss his problems with and a dedicated physical trainer who did not understand sleeping in. Mira accepted no excuses.

  “Good run, everyone,” Mira said from the sidewalk leading to her building. “Same time next weekend?”

  Sean knew better than to groan out loud, so he waved a hand in surrender. He made the short walk to his townhome and managed to let himself in without staring for too long at Reyna Montero’s front door.

  He’d had a few more things to say to her last night, but it was for the best she’d slipped inside before he had the chance. Her question about his grandmother had thrown him. Over the months they’d worked together, Reyna hadn’t done much to make a personal connection. Sometimes it seemed like she was surprised to see him when he walked into the Court’s lobby.

  Since he did that pretty often to get to his small office set off the lobby, it confused him. He’d thought when he was introduced to her that it would take them some time to settle into a comfortable routine. Reyna was reserved. The urge to ruffle her serious demeanor bubbled up, but he did his best to control it because she signed the paychecks at Concord Court. The routine had arrived, but he would guess neither of them would call it comfortable. Now, with this disagreement over Charlie planted right between them, they might never have that easy working relationship.

  Sean had expected her to demand an update on Charlie’s situation. Instead, she’d given her order with the firm expectation it would be executed properly and never thought of it again.

  Like the boss she was.

  After a shower and change of clothes, Sean asked, “Bo, you ready to go see the gents?” and patted the hound dog stretched out on the cool tile in the kitchen. Identifying Bo’s lineage would be difficult. Anytime Sean was asked, he answered, “Forty pounds of hound,” but Bo was smart. He knew exactly what going to “see the gents” meant. The three old guys holding court at Punto Verde always gave his dogs lots of attention. Sean had argued hard in favor of the facility he visited with his service dogs, so that he’d have plenty of reason and opportunity to check on Charlie Fox.

  Charlie had gone with his recommendation, but it had been about choosing the convenient option instead of one he’d put any time into. When Sean helped him move in, Charlie had shown zero interest in the list of amenities available at Punto Verde.

  Checking in on him today seemed important.

  After a hard thump of his tail, Bo rolled up slowly to stand and stretch. He had learned new commands in the weeks Sean had been training him, and he’d passed the test to gain service animal certification, but that laid-back personality was genetic. It was also the most valuable trait Sean looked for in rescues to train as service animals for veterans, his pet pet project.

  “Bad puns and no one around to enjoy them,” Sean muttered. “I should definitely spend some time searching for human companionship, shouldn’t I?”

  The dog’s soulful eyes were locked on his face. Bo didn’t nod in agreement, but the slow wag of his tail could be interpreted as support.

  “All right, let’s get out of this apartment.” Sean draped the vest that read Service Animal in Training over Bo’s head and snapped on his leash before opening the front door. They’d take a mini stroll over the grass in front of his townhome to be sure there were no accidents on the way to the rehab facility.

  He’d stepped outside when Reyna’s door swung open. She slammed to a stop on the first step, the loose skirt of her floral sundress swirling around her knees. He realized he’d been mesmerized by the sight of her legs for too long when she finally spoke.

  “Good morning.” Reyna brushed a hand through her hair. “To both of you.”

  Sean nodded. “Good morning.” Why wouldn’t anything else come to mind?

  The tense silence stretched until Sean snapped back to himself. “Where ya headed on this beautiful Sunday?” Something about Reyna made him turn up every bit of Georgia drawl he possessed.

  “Brunch.” She heaved a sigh. “With my father.”

  “That explains the fancy dress. I’m used to polos and khakis.” And why was he commenting on what she was wearing? He wasn’t a fashion reporter. “We’re headed out to Punto Verde.” He pointed at the dog. “Bo’ll get to practice his manners and I can check in on Charlie. Make sure he’s okay in his new home.”

  Reyna clutched her tiny purse in both hands. He made sure to study her face when he mentioned Charlie. Of the two of them, it wasn’t him who should experience guilt over Charlie’s new home. “Want to come with me to see him?”

  Before she could answer, he said, “Oh yeah. Gotta do brunch.” Then he mimicked her heavy sigh.

  “A command performance. I hate those.” Her lips tightened. “But complaining is a waste of time and words. Nothing moves my father.” She brushed a hand over her skirt uncertainly before touching the pale pink rose dangling on a thin gold chain around her neck
. Sean wondered if she was uncomfortable in the dress or if the meal with her father made her anxious. If Reyna was intimidating, her father was imposing. Sean had been hired by him before Reyna made it home, and he was glad Luis spent less time inspecting his work now.

  “Did you need something?” Reyna asked before going down the steps. Bo moved closer to sniff her toes, and Sean was distracted by the soft pink polish peeking from her sandals. She bent down to scratch Bo’s ears. When the dog blinked up at her, Sean understood how he felt. Caught and happy about it.

  “I meant to let you know last night that we’ve rekeyed Charlie’s unit. It’s ready to go again.” Charlie Fox wouldn’t be coming back to Concord Court even if he managed to get strong enough to leave the rehab facility.

  “Good. It’s fully outfitted with the assistive devices the kid coming in from Walter Reed will need. I hope his parents are right and that he can handle living alone here. I can’t cope with another failure right now.” She cleared her throat. “Not that Charlie was a failure. I mean...” She licked her lips. “I want to give everyone a chance who asks for it. If we have too many who can’t meet the requirements, I’ll have to revise my policy.”

  When he didn’t answer, she straightened. Whatever her personal beliefs were, she’d go to battle to uphold the importance of proper policy.

  Reyna could make a killing in a competitive poker game. Her face gave nothing away.

  Reyna lifted a shoulder. “Charlie needed a different kind of facility.”

  Sean nodded his head slowly. Neither one of them liked her answer, and it hadn’t changed. “Hope you’re right.”

  Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “My father built Concord Court to fill a need, Sean. There are places for men like Charlie, the guys who need daily medical support. This is not that. We are not doing that.”

  Sean didn’t argue. Whatever she had to tell herself to live with the consequences didn’t mean much to him or Charlie.

  “I’m glad he’s still here nearby where we can check on him. When I get a minute, I’ll drop by to make sure he has what he needs. We won’t forget about him.” She straightened her shoulders. With that tone and the conviction on her face, she was a leader. She’d made a hard decision, but somewhere inside, there was enough good that it hadn’t been easy and it wouldn’t be forgotten, either.

  That was why he still came to work for Reyna Montero. There was a heart under the policy.

  It had to be enough. She wasn’t going to change.

  “Do you have further suggestions, Wakefield? I’m happy to listen to them.” Her arms made a tight knot in front of her chest.

  Wakefield. They’d taken one step forward at the cookout, and now they were two steps back.

  “You seem happy,” he drawled, the sarcasm he normally tried to control around his boss leaking out. He pointed to her arms with his chin. Her body language was defensive, not happy. “No, ma’am. Place runs like a precision instrument. Anything you need, boss?”

  Reyna shook her head. “You and Bo have a good day.” She marched down the steps to her SUV and slid inside. He waited to see if she would meet his stare as she left, but she backed out slowly and drove away.

  Bo plopped down on his foot.

  Almost as if he was affronted by how easily she’d left them behind.

  “Don’t take it personally, buddy,” Sean said as he ruffled the dog’s ears. “We’ll go find someone else to scratch your chin.”

  After he got Bo loaded into his car, Sean pulled out of Concord Court and headed for the interstate. Homestead was a quick hop on and off, and he’d barely gotten the air conditioner to cool down the truck before he was parking in front of the nursing home and rehab facility.

  Instead of howling with excitement, as he had every time he’d gone for a ride in the early days, Bo sat up straight, his eyes and ears alert. He was still excited, but this dog was under control.

  “Good boy,” Sean murmured and let him out. He held the leash loosely to make sure Bo followed his pace, and he couldn’t contain his proud grin when the dog stopped perfectly to wait for the door. “You got this.” He was ready to go to his new home.

  The mix of pride and happiness and sadness that always hit when it was time to send a dog on to a veteran’s home washed over Sean. He did his best to shake it off. This was the goal, his whole reason for taking this project on.

  The nurse working the front desk and registering visitors flashed a wide grin. “My favorite hound dog! And Bo is here, too!”

  Sean nodded, even though her joke was a part of the routine. Working in a facility like this had to include some hard days. He’d never seen Monique with anything less than a smile. “Before we leave, you’ll have to give Bo a good-luck kiss. He’s headed home this week.”

  Monique clapped her hands. “Way to go, big guy.” She came around the desk and ruffled Bo’s ears. The dog peeked up at Sean. Since he was working, people were supposed to wait for permission to approach him and he had been trained to wait for the okay.

  “Okay, Bo,” Sean said and shook his head as the dog immediately swiped his tongue over Monique’s cheek in a hello kiss. That might need refining before he sent the dog off.

  Her grimace and giggles were cute, though.

  “The gents are in the common room, ‘watching’—” she made air quotes “—the news. Your friend Charlie won’t leave his room. Fix that.” The phone rang and she stepped back behind the counter to answer it, but tapped the sign-in sheet and raised an eyebrow at him.

  Sean dutifully signed his name and saw that Dan Martin’s daughter had been in, too. She came to see her father almost every day, and her visits put him in a sunny mood. Sean hoped he was having one of his good days.

  “Let’s go, Bo. Time to work.” Sean walked down the tiled hallway. As usual, there were residents sitting here and there. Some were practicing their exercises in their wheelchairs. Some sat in doorways, content to watch people come and go. Bo calmly navigated the course. He didn’t react to the wheelchairs or walkers. “Good boy.”

  When they reached the common room, the blare of the news was impossible to ignore, but tucked into a sunny corner was a sofa and four chairs. The three old guys whom everyone called “the gents” were arranged as they always were, with Dan seated front and center. It was his group. And as always, when he spotted Sean and Bo, he held out one hand and waved gaily. “I knew it was going to be a good day.” He tapped the carnation boutonniere his daughter brought daily to pin to her father’s seersucker jacket. “I dressed for the occasion.”

  Fashion at Punto Verde varied. Some people wore hospital gowns. They were undergoing the early stages of rehab. Others preferred comfortable sweats or cotton shirts. Dan wore a suit and tie. Every day. Because that was what he preferred.

  It was hard to argue with style like that.

  “Good to see you. Okay, Bo.” He dropped the leash. The dog walked over and sat, bracing his chin on Dan’s knee. This always delighted the gents and they made a big deal out of it. Bo’s tail wagged. As usual, it was a happy reunion.

  “I thought you were getting out of here, Dan. I’m surprised to see you still here.” This was Sean’s part of their routine.

  “Doctor thought one more week would be better. Build my strength up.” Dan waved a hand around the group. “And I’m still needed here, Sean.”

  On his first visit to Punto Verde, Monique had explained that all three of the gents were fighting Alzheimer’s. On a good day, they were the life of the party. And on bad days, they were still charming, even if you weren’t sure what year they were in. Most often, Dan slipped back to his childhood. Seeing Bo led to at least one story about his favorite hunting dog, who could tree squirrels with the best of them.

  No matter which Dan was sitting on the couch when he walked in, Sean enjoyed their visits.

  “I’m going to take Bo on his rounds.” Sea
n shoved his hands in his pockets. “Have you guys met my friend Charlie?” If he could get Charlie in with this group, the guy would be okay. They loved good stories and he had thousands of them.

  Dan frowned and studied his gleaming wing tips. “I might remember a new face around the dinner tables last night. Handsome guy with a wheelchair?”

  Sean paused to evaluate Charlie’s “handsome” factor, then nodded.

  Dan sighed. “Hasn’t been social at all.” He shook his head sadly, as if that was the worst comment there was to make.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Sean muttered and took Bo’s leash. “Let’s work, Bo.” And the two of them started their route down the next hallway. Bo had learned where all his fans lived and he gently and insistently collected every bit of love and affection he could from Punto Verde. Days like this made Sean reconsider giving dogs up once they’d finished their training. Bo was doing so much good at this facility.

  But he could be some vet’s entire world. And another dog would have the chance to soak up this love. Sean just had to find the dog. And if he could get Reyna on board with his plan, he’d have more people and more dogs out there, changing days from okay to great.

  When they arrived at Charlie’s room, Sean knocked on the closed door and opened it without waiting for an answer. Charlie was stretched out on the bed with the television on but the sound muted. “Special delivery,” Sean said before he added, “Okay, Bo.”

  The dog crossed the room, sniffed the edge of the bed and jumped up beside Charlie.

  That was not the correct protocol, but it was right for Charlie, whose rusty chuckle reassured Sean. “Dog, you don’t belong here.” Charlie grunted. “Guess that makes two of us.” He ruffled Bo’s ears. “You come to break me out?”

  Sean dragged one of the cushy armchairs in the corner closer to the bed. “No breaking out required. You don’t want to stay, you tell me where to take you and we’ll go.”