Cold Nose, Warm Heart

by Mara Wells

  Grams snorted. “Don’t give this man a dog. He doesn’t know how to take care of anything or anyone.”

  “His foster home isn’t too far from here. Want me to give them a call and see if they can bring him to meet you?” Danielle was all smiles and sweetness, but she was clearly intent on closing this deal in spite of Grams’ attempts at intervention.

  Grams snorted again, loud enough that William offered her a handkerchief from his pocket, but she turned her nose up at it.

  “Young lady,” he said to Danielle, “I think I would like to meet this dog.”

  “Stars above, what a bad idea this is.” But Grams didn’t act like she was going anywhere.

  “Wonderful!” Danielle was on her phone in seconds, brandishing the text reply proudly when it came in. “They’re on their way!”

  “I need to go!” Riley extracted herself from Grams’ death grip. She did not have the time to oversee a whole adoption sequence. Hard as it was to picture Caleb’s grandpa with any kind of pet, she hoped for Pops’s sake that it worked out. “It was great to see you, Danielle! You do such good work for the greyhounds.”

  “You don’t want to meet Pops?” Danielle was already pulling up more pictures of Pops to show William.

  “I’ll be back. I just have a—” Riley pulled out her phone and rushed away. No texts from Caleb. Should she send him another message? She didn’t want to be a nag. If he wanted to talk to her, he would. There wasn’t really anything she could do if he was avoiding her. But she also couldn’t stay at the dog park like everything was fine. He’d run away from his big triumph. He should be here to enjoy it.

  Your grandpa’s going to adopt a dog.

  There, that wasn’t naggy, and it was true. Speak now or forever hold your peace.

  See? She could be funny, too. But the screen stayed blank. She tried to think of the scene between William and Grams from Caleb’s point of view. How disappointed he must be. It wasn’t his fault his brothers weren’t interested in William’s plan. He’d done the best he could with the situation, and looking around her at the happy neighbors and happier dogs, he’d done a damn good job.

  What had gone wrong? She needed to analyze the situation, and then she needed to fix it. Not only for Caleb but Grams, too.

  In fact, she doubled back for Grams. “Come on. We need to discuss a few things.”

  “Oh, you’ve got your serious face on. You wouldn’t be so glum if you’d won the costume parade. I’m going to have a talk with that Sydney friend of yours.”

  “We’re going to talk. All of us. You, me, Sydney, Eliza.”

  “Right! Now that I own the building, we should tell Eliza to drop the lawsuit.”

  “Among other things.” Riley whipped out her phone and started texting. As soon as the Howling Halloween dog park party was over, they were having a major powwow. Or should she say bowwow? She smiled at her own joke before sending the calendar invite. Before that meeting, though, she and Grams were going to have a serious conversation.

  Chapter 31

  Five days. That was how many days he’d spent being an idiot, not responding to Riley’s texts. She’d given up after a few, but that hadn’t stopped him from obsessively rereading them. Why couldn’t he reach out to her? Hadn’t he realized less than a week ago that he loved her? But what could he offer her if he didn’t have the Dorothy to build the business on? His messed-up family? His messed-up life? She’d be better off without him, there at the Dorothy with her Grams and her residents and her dog park friends. Maybe she’d think fondly of him whenever she took her poodle to their dog park. Yeah, right. He knew men who ghosted were not thought fondly of. He should text her back. He would. After this stupid meeting with Commissioner Santos.

  Caleb parked the Porsche a block away to give himself a chance to walk off the nervous energy he was feeling. If he stared at the bench where he and Riley’d made out after that memorable commission meeting, there was no one there to mock him. No one but his own brain, reminding him what an idiot he was being. He passed through security with little annoyance and took the stairs to Santos’ office.

  “Caleb.” Commissioner Santos rose and shook his hand. The office was on the small side, tidy and modern with lots of grays and blacks giving it a masculine feeling. Caleb took a seat in a surprisingly comfortable guest chair but was forced to rise again when Commissioner Jackson entered the room.

  “Commissioner.” He shook her hand as well.

  “Please, come with me. We’ll never all fit in this tiny room.”

  “Always bragging about your corner office.” Santos waggled an eyebrow at Jackson, and she laughed. “Did you book the conference room?”

  “Where else?” She led the way down the hall in her sensible block heels. Santos sped up to catch the door and held it open as they passed through.

  The conference room was a larger version of Santos’ office, sleek and gray, with a large oblong table in a manufactured gray wood taking up the center. A telephone that resembled some sort of alien creature occupied the middle of the table. Santos held a chair out for Jackson, and they all took their seats.

  “I’m always happy to see you, of course.” Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “I admit, though, that I’m curious why you asked me to come down.”

  “It’s the holiday spirit!” Jackson announced, drumming red and green nails on the table.

  It was only a few days after Halloween. When had she even had time to get Christmas nails done? Or maybe she celebrated Christmas year-round. He’d heard of people like that; he just didn’t think there were any in the subtropics. Sweat and the Christmas spirit weren’t usually paired, but the Christmas trees swinging from her ears implied a serious commitment to the holiday.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll have to check with my accountants”—who he didn’t have on the payroll anymore—“before I can commit to any campaign donations.”

  “We’re not here for campaign money.” Santos rubbed his palms together. “But if you’re in the mood to give, I have a few ideas.”

  “I’m afraid I’m already maxed out on charitable giving, but if you give me the basics—”

  Commissioner Jackson cut him off with a laugh. “That’s not why we called you in. Look, William’s here. Why don’t you come on in?”

  Speaking of people he was avoiding. Caleb turned his head to see his grandfather, leaning heavily on his cane, enter the room with a black-and-white greyhound on a thin lead. The dog’s dark muzzle was peppered with gray, and it walked stiffly behind Grandpa William. At least Grandpa William didn’t know how to text.

  “Grandpa.”

  “Caleb.”

  “Is that a greyhound?” Caleb remembered the text Riley’d sent the day of the dog park grand opening, warning him, but he couldn’t believe his grandfather had gone through with it.

  “His name is Pops.” Grandpa William settled heavily into the chair next to Commissioner Jackson, and the greyhound promptly dropped his five-pound head into his lap. Grandpa William stroked the dog’s head while surveying the room. “He’s good company.”

  “That’s good. Great.” Caleb shook off the surrealness of the whole thing and splayed his hands on the table. “But I still don’t understand why we’re all here. Why I’m here. Santos?”

  “Hey, I’m not late, am I?” Lance strode into the room, workman’s boots managing to clomp even on the carpeted surface. “And look who I brought with me.”

  “Knox?” Caleb stood and took a few lurching steps toward his oldest brother. Knox was lean and muscled, biceps bulging out from a Semper Fi T-shirt. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

  “Hey there, Caleb. Aren’t you a big boy now?” Knox’s teasing grin was the same as it had been the day he came to say goodbye before heading out to the marines. What wasn’t the same was his left leg encased in a pretty serious-looking brace, the kind with metals and straps so
large they couldn’t go under a pant leg.

  Caleb went in for a hug at the same time as Knox stuck out his hand to shake. They met in the middle in an awkward backslapping compromise. “What’re you doing here?”

  “You’ve been calling, haven’t you?” Knox settled himself awkwardly into a chair, leg held stiffly out in front of him. “And I had some time on my hands.” He gestured at his leg. “Medical discharge. Where else am I gonna go but home?”

  “I, for one, am glad to see you.” Lance took the chair next to Knox. “Can we get started? I’ve got to get back to my job site. Bathrooms don’t demo themselves, you know.”

  Caleb looked from one brother to the other. “What is this about?”

  Jackson drummed her nails. “The Historic Preservation Board decision came in. The Dorothy will be added to the historic building register.”

  Caleb nodded. He’d figured as much. It was a beautiful building. He’d hoped to see it restored to its former glory and shining with a new light all its own. Whatever. Riley would take as good care of it as the budget would allow, although he did worry about what she and Grams would do about the forty-year-inspection improvements.

  “And we’ve seen your plans for the renovations. Gorgeous. I’m going to want to buy into the building myself.” Jackson patted the stack of papers in front of her. “That young architect you’re working with has a promising future here on the Beach. He’s captured the history beautifully, but it still feels fresh and modern.” She spread the drawings out on the table for everyone to look at.

  Lance whistled low through his teeth. “That’s an ambitious plan, little brother.”

  “It was.” Caleb couldn’t look at the plans. Riley had loved them. That was all he’d cared about by the time Adam dropped them by the Dorothy. “They’re perfect!” she’d said and kissed him. He’d felt such a sense of accomplishment, like this, this is what he was meant to do. He supposed he should send the drawings to Grams now, in case she was interested.

  “And we approve!” Santos banged the table for emphasis. “All of us! The other commissioners couldn’t meet today, but we were told it was an urgent matter to get this resolved. We wanted to let you know in person that you have the official city stamp of approval. That parking garage with the rooftop dog park? Phenomenal idea. Believe me, we’ll be reaching out to your Mr. St. John for plans in the future.”

  “The what?” Caleb turned a drawing to face him. A three-story parking garage, the full size of the once-empty lot and not much taller than the Dorothy, was sketched out to show the outer walls growing bougainvillea and the top story filled with miniature people and dogs enjoying the view from the top. Grass, agility equipment, even palm trees. Caleb had never seen such a thing, but he loved it. Riley would love it.

  Riley.

  “Ingenious, isn’t it?” Santos beamed at him like it was his idea. “A compromise that makes everyone happy. The city will, of course, expect the ground floor to be income-generating spots, right?”

  “I wish I could.” Caleb folded his hands in front of him. He was forced to say out loud the thing he could barely acknowledge in his head. “The Dorothy has changed ownership. You should be speaking with Gloria and Riley about their plans.”

  Commissioner Jackson squeaked, “What’s this?”

  At the same time, Santos belted out, “What kind of nonsense is going on here?”

  Grandpa William tapped his cane against the hard plastic of his chair arm. “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. Caleb, the Dorothy is yours. Lance and Knox let me know in no uncertain terms that you’d met the terms of our agreement. They claim to both be working with you on the renovation. Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me think you’d let that Carson woman control everything?”

  Caleb knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t quite get it to close.

  “You can be so pigheaded, Grandpa William.” Lance leaned his chair back on two legs. “He was probably letting you stew, and then you went and sold the building for five bucks? That’s what I heard anyway. Luckily, the new owner was happy to sell it to me, even if, as she noted multiple times during our negotiations, I’m not as handsome as Billy.”

  Caleb’s mouth gaped a bit more, and he finally managed another “What?”

  “She had to make a profit of course. Caleb, you owe me ten coconuts. I figure you’re good for it, though. I paid her this morning; we’re square. The Dorothy is officially Donovan-owned again.”

  “You own the Dorothy?”

  Lance chortled. “Keep up, kid. Grandpa William’s deal with Gloria hadn’t gone through yet. No paperwork or anything. Essentially a handshake deal. For ten bucks, she shook on giving it back. You’ve met the terms of his crazy agreement, so he’ll be signing the Dorothy over to you. To us. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  Wasn’t it? Two months ago, it was all he wanted. A chance to build the business back, to repair his broken family, to prove he was nothing like his father. But now, paperwork in front of him, gorgeous plans approved, his brothers aligned with him, all he wanted was Riley.

  He shook his head. “Why would Gloria give back the Dorothy?”

  “Sell back.” Lance pushed a piece of paper with Gloria’s signature on it his way. A quick scan revealed that she’d signed away any claim to the Dorothy. “Something about forty-year inspection repairs costing more than five dollars. Someone must’ve shown her the estimate I gave you.”

  That someone was Riley. His files were still at her place.

  “Riley did this?”

  “Well, it wasn’t Santa Claus,” Lance drawled, evoking a surprised chuckle from Knox.

  “Riley did this.” Caleb searched his brothers’ faces for confirmation.

  “We’ll lock it up all legal with the lawyers this week.” Grandpa William tapped his cane authoritatively. “I’m proud of you, Caleb. You’re going to bring pride back to the Donovan name.”

  Caleb didn’t care about that. Not anymore. He shot out of his seat.

  “Riley. I’ve got to find her.”

  Chapter 32

  Riley lifted her face to the November sun. At a mellow eighty degrees, fall was her favorite time of year. Less humidity, more breeze, and the influx of tourists that kept the hospitality industry alive. Which would mean something if she were still in the hospitality industry, but she had a sinking feeling that she’d have to move on soon.

  She couldn’t work at a Donovan-owned property, not after all that happened with Caleb. She felt good that she’d righted the wrong done to him by his grandfather and was happy knowing that today he’d find out that his renovation was saved and his brothers were on his side. Not to mention, she’d saved her Grams from an unmanageable number of financial headaches. But she couldn’t stay at the Dorothy, knowing she could run into Caleb at any moment. No, he’d made it clear at the Howling Halloween Party that what she’d thought was so special between them wasn’t special at all.

  LouLou darted around the new dog park, inspecting the base of each piece of agility equipment, wagging her tail frantically at whatever she smelled there. The chitter of a squirrel caught her attention, and she raced to chase it up the newly planted palm tree. The squirrels had wasted no time moving in on the new trees. Perched at the top of one of the struts still holding the palm tree in place, the squirrel turned its head from one side to the other, almost as if it were amused by LouLou’s attempts to scale the tree.

  “Hey.”

  It was the text she’d been waiting for, only delivered in person. She sucked in a deep breath and turned to face Caleb. He was rumpled, like he’d been sleeping in his clothes, and a few days’ worth of stubble shadowed his chin. Bloodshot eyes traveled from her head to her flip-flop-clad feet.

  “Hotter-than-You Pink?” He gestured at her toenails.

  Riley looked down, surprised she hadn’t changed the color sin
ce the night they’d sat on her sofa watching Netflix movies while she painted her toenails. He’d even helped with her tiny pinkie toe, always a challenge to do without smearing polish everywhere. He’d made fun of the name but had given her an amazing foot rub while the nails dried. It was a nice memory, one of many she was sure she’d revisit in the future as she beat herself up for being stupid enough to believe in a happily-ever-after. Again. When would she learn that men, at least men she fell for, never saw her in their futures?

  “Yeah. How are you?”

  “I don’t know. It depends.”

  “I thought you’d be happy to get the Dorothy back. Your grandfather seemed especially pleased when I spoke with him.”

  “And my brothers? How on Earth did you get Knox to answer his phone?”

  “Lance knew a way to get hold of him. They didn’t realize Grandpa William’s strings were so inflexible. They agreed to the project to help you break away from him. You know that, don’t you?”

  “By playing Grandpa William’s game, we’re in deeper than they realize, I fear. In a few months, my brothers won’t be thanking you for your part in this.”

  “In a few months, they won’t be able to find me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My mom is pulling some strings of her own to get me a job on her cruise line. Nothing’s for sure yet. I’m sending out lots of résumés, too.” She crossed her fingers. “Here’s hoping something comes through. Soon.”

  “Any place would be lucky to have you.”

  “Yeah, thanks. That’s nice of you to say.” Riley looked anywhere except directly at Caleb. The crease in his khakis, the slope of his shoulder, that strong line of his jaw, the sky overhead.

  “Riley.”

  His voice drew her gaze directly to him. He reached for her hand, taking it gently in both of his. He kissed her knuckles and dropped to one knee.