“Garrett, she’s not some reporter off the street. She spent a lot of time here, she’s Molly’s childhood friend, and she deserves special care. I know you’ll give it to her.” He picked up a coffee cup up. “But she’s a pretty one. Always had such cute freckles. Ever notice?”
Yes, he noticed plenty. Until she started to sound an awful lot like a reporter. “Look, you know that after all those years in the spotlight, I’m not a fan of the media.”
“And you know that if this business is going to survive and thrive, we have to have some public relations.”
“Don’t act like that’s what you want, because she already told me you want her to write something favorable to counteract what’s been written before.”
“She did tell you everything.” He gave a little grunt. “But I do want coverage for Waterford. It’s good for our business.”
“We’re on social media, which is all we need in this day and age,” Garrett shot back. “Darcy’s brought in dozens of customers with that Instagram account she runs, and Gramma is a freaking blogging sensation.” Not that he’d ever understand how that happened, but once Molly’s daughter taught Gramma Finnie how to use a computer, it was all over. “We don’t need strangers digging up info.” He didn’t, anyway.
Dad slammed his elbows on his desk hard enough to startle Rusty, who’d dropped down to rest at Garrett’s feet.
“Son, you can’t spend the rest of your life trying to hide from your past. You built a company, you sold it for many, many millions of dollars, you made this family quite wealthy, and we’ve used those blessings to make people happy and dogs safe. That’s a great story, and it makes me inordinately proud.”
But if anyone dug too deep, it wouldn’t be so great and Dad wouldn’t be so proud. He looked down at his scuffed boots, but saw only the bright green eyes of a curious, warm, completely unthreatening woman who was probably very good at her job. But her job terrified him.
“It’s more than a reporter in our midst that’s bothering you,” his father said, always the most insightful human around for miles.
He looked up. “So, was that Aidan?” he asked, purposely ignoring the question. “I didn’t think he was able to get to a computer to email us, let alone call.”
“Well, he did.” Dad’s blue eyes, so much like the ones that stared back from the mirror every morning, shifted from sharply insightful to something a little softer, as they did when one of his kids was less than one hundred percent happy.
“Is he okay?” Garrett asked, his whole body tightening. Aidan was in constant danger over there.
“He’s fine, but you know.”
No, he didn’t know. He waited for more, silent.
“Your mom used to say you’re only as happy as your least-happy child.”
Many times, he thought. It had been his mother’s mantra. “So Aidan’s not happy?”
“He’s in a war zone,” Dad said simply.
“He could get out, you know,” Garrett said. “He’s hitting ten years.”
Dad snorted. “I know. And I reminded him how much he’s needed here.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t commit. But…” His father heaved a sigh. “A good buddy of his was badly injured in a skirmish last week, and it crushed him.”
Garrett closed his eyes, hurting for his little brother and fearing for him.
“Who got crushed?” Another man’s voice came from the hall, along with heavy, booted footsteps. Thank God, it was Shane.
“Aidan called,” Dad said. “He’s alive and safe, which is all that matters.”
Shane’s wide shoulders slumped as he walked in the door. “Wish that little bastard would come home.”
“He’s not a bastard,” Dad corrected.
“And he’s not little,” Garrett added. “When are you leaving for DC?” he asked Shane. “I need to talk to you.”
“I just got your text. I’m leaving now, actually.” He frowned at Garrett but instantly crouched down to greet Rusty with two hands. “Hey, big boy. Why aren’t you over in the kennels, Garrett? There’s a class getting assigned their training dogs any minute.”
“Do you remember Jessie Curtis, Molly’s friend when she was young?”
Shane screwed up his features. “Whippet Legs? Didn’t you feel her up once?”
Garrett shut his eyes in disgust.
“Well, don’t deny it, dude.”
“When did this happen?” Dad demanded, a flash in his eyes.
“A thousand years ago,” Garrett replied.
Dad gave him another good, long look. “So that’s why you don’t want her here. You have a little history.”
“Very little, and that’s not the reason.”
Dad pushed up from his seat, ending the conversation. “I know all I need to know. I have a meeting in town, and Shane, you better get on the road if you’re going to make it to the DOD this afternoon. They could be a big training client, Son.”
Dad came around his massive desk and put a hand on Shane’s shoulder on the way out. “Talk some sense into your younger brother here.” With a gentle pat on the back, he left the two men alone, his footsteps fading as he walked down the hall, Rusty hot on his heels.
“What sense do you need?” Shane asked.
“Common. Jessie Curtis is a journalist,” Garrett informed his brother through clenched teeth. Only Shane would know exactly why that was an issue. “She writes tell-all exposés for that ITAL site. Inside the A List or some such crap.”
“They have a TV show, too,” Shane said. “Biopics. I saw one on this hedge-fund billionaire who inherited a winery in Italy from his dead dad, and by the end, the guy was bawling like a baby because he met the love of his life. You should totally do that.”
“Are you out of your flipping mind? Or have you forgotten what we went through in Seattle?”
Shane thought about that, stabbing his fingers into his short brown hair and dragging it back. “Look, she’d have to be Pulitzer Prize quality to dig up your dirt. I made sure of that when I handled the legalities. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Garrett stood. “Too late. I am. And Dad thinks a great story about me is going to mitigate the lingering effects of that Forbes story.”
“He might be right, but I think that’s ancient history. It’d be good PR for Waterford.”
“Also what Dad said.”
“I say do the interview. You know what she doesn’t know, and that gives you the upper hand.”
Garrett rolled his eyes. “Says the lawyer.”
“Says anyone with a brain. Haven’t you ever heard that you catch more flies with honey?”
“I’m not trying to catch anything.”
Shane hooted softly as they headed out. “No? Well, if she’s the one I saw out in the field, she looks good. From a distance.”
“She looks good close up.”
“Then I’m right. You should catch that honey and count your blessings.”
“She’s a journalist, Shane. You know why that could be a problem. I don’t care about me, but there are other people involved.”
That wiped the teasing smirk off his brother’s face.
“I made a promise, man,” Garrett said. “I’m keeping it.”
“I know,” Shane said. “But I’m telling you, stay on that woman, keep her close, and control whatever it is she’s doing. If you send her packing, you’ll look like you have something to hide.”
“Because I do.”
“I know that and you know that, but she doesn’t have to know that.”
Garrett shook his head. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“Suit yourself, Bro.” Shane punched his shoulder. “But a little action might put you in a better mood.”
“Screw you.”
“Not action with me.” Shane winked and walked out, leaving Garrett to stew.
Chapter Six
She might have been alone with Lola for five minutes or fifteen. Jessie wasn’t sure. All
she knew was that she somehow got the dog to lay her head on Jessie’s lap, and she seemed so incredibly comfortable, it would be a crime to get up.
So Jessie leaned against the kennel wall and stroked the soft, soft fur, thinking about Garrett and Waterford and her job and her life and Mercedes and Stephanie and the miserable tear that rolled down her cheek.
“Sometimes I feel like putting my head on someone’s lap, too,” she whispered to the dog. “But never not eating. If I were you, I’d be facedown in a pint of salted caramel gelato right now. I might be very soon, actually.”
Lola lifted her head as if she actually understood. Maybe she wanted gelato.
“Want to eat something, sweetheart?”
After a second, Lola got up, turned in a circle, made a whimpering sound, then lowered herself back down, her snout an inch away from the food bowl. Like she wanted to eat, but couldn’t break her hunger strike.
“Go ahead, take a bite,” Jessie coaxed, tapping the side of the bowl full of something that looked like dry kibbles. “I bet it’s good.”
Without lifting her head, Lola looked up with giant cocoa brown eyes that looked as sad as Jessie felt. “Come on, Lola love,” Jessie urged. “Just one bite.”
When Lola didn’t move, Jessie dug into the dry bits of dog food and scooped some onto two fingers, offering it to her. “How about this?”
Lola looked hard at the food, considering it for sure, then thumped her head down in a clear no.
Come on.
“Babe, you know what I think? My guess is that someone you thought should love and care for you disappeared. They left you somewhere you were supposed to be safe, but you were so alone. You know, that happened to me. I was sixteen. How old are you?”
Lola’s tail flipped once, making Jessie laugh softly. “You don’t know, of course. But you’re old enough to know that someone should love you and doesn’t. I wonder if they had another dog they loved more. I know how that feels.”
Another thump.
“Then, when you think you’re going to get your big break and finally be the ‘best’ instead of always overlooked and overwhelmed and overshadowed by someone bigger, better, brighter, and beautifuler…it blows up in your face. Like it will in mine. Again.”
For a second, Lola looked up, as if she’d changed her mind, then exhaled a soft sigh and put her head back down with a pathetic thud.
“That’s my tale of woe,” Jessie whispered. “What’s yours? Did somebody leave you? If so, you’ll find a better owner. Did somebody love you and lose you? Then I hope they find you.”
Lola blinked at Jessie, as if she, too, were fighting tears. Jessie’s heart rolled over with love. So much that she leaned over and placed the lightest kiss on the dog’s head.
Lola inched forward and took some food from Jessie’s hand.
“Nice work!” Jessie exclaimed, giving her neck a rub. “You want more?”
She finished chewing and stayed very still as if considering it. Then dropped down again.
“Oh, Lola. Come on, have more. One more bite.” She scooped some more food and placed her hand in front of Lola’s mouth.
But she still didn’t move. So, once more, Jessie leaned over and put a kiss on the top of Lola’s head.
And she lifted her head and ate.
“Oh, so that’s your game.” Jessie laughed. “You eat for kisses.” She tested the theory and, sure enough, Lola ate some more.
“Good girl. Now let’s try this.” She inched the whole bowl closer and planted another light kiss on Lola’s head. Immediately, she got up on her feet and started to eat.
“Holy shit.”
Jessie whipped her head around at the unexpected sound of a man’s voice, biting her lip when she saw Garrett standing outside the kennel gate looking in.
“You got her to eat.”
“It just took one little kiss.” She pushed up and, instantly, Lola stopped eating. Jessie stroked her head. “Come on, now. Don’t stop. Show your master what you can do.”
“I don’t think I’m her master. You are.”
Jessie held his gaze for a few heartbeats, until it became awkward, looking back at Lola, who was settling back on the floor. “No, no, Lola. You have to eat.” She crouched down and kissed her head again, and she started eating.
“I don’t think I’d have ever thought of that,” Garrett admitted.
She shrugged, keeping her eyes on Lola to avoid the power of his. “Some girls respond to kisses.”
“In dog kennels.”
She looked at him then, feeling a soft rush of blood. “So you remember that?”
For the first time since she mentioned she was a journalist, the hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. “It was a hell of a game of Manhunt.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” she said under her breath, taking a step forward. “I handled this poorly, and I really apologize for messing up your morning.”
She reached the gate, but he didn’t step aside or open it for her, just looked hard at her. “It’s really your big break?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Eavesdropping is only one step higher on the ladder of bad ethics than what I did.”
“You were totally wrapped up in the dog.”
Somehow, she knew that was a compliment, and it warmed her, though it probably shouldn’t have. “You might have coughed or something.”
He tipped his head. “You might have been honest or something.”
She didn’t want to fight about it anymore. “Can you move, please?”
For a long time, way too long, he didn’t budge. Finally, he looked behind her at the dog. “You can leave Lola like that?”
“You know her secret now.” She pressed on the gate and pushed it open. “You just kiss her in the dog kennels, and she’ll do anything you want.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she put her finger over his lips, trying not to react to how soft they were and how sexy the light intake of his breath felt. “Including,” she whispered, “leave.”
Without a word, she stepped by him, held her head high, and walked out to the sunshine.
She moved briskly, forcing herself to watch the dogs scamper in the pen, picking a particularly happy brown one as her focus. If she looked there and didn’t turn toward the house, didn’t wallow in the memories, didn’t let herself remember the last time she walked down that huge Waterford driveway…
Tears stung her eyes as images she’d long ago tucked away flashed in her brain.
Mom and Stephanie in the car together—always together—impatient as she said goodbye to Molly.
Hurry up, Jessie. Our flight to New York leaves in two hours.
Their flight, their life, their companionship, their…family. And her flight? Left four hours later for Duluth, Minnesota.
It’s best for you, Jessie. You can’t stay here in Bitter Bark. You have nowhere to live. No family.
And whose fault is that, Mom?
The tears spilled as she sprinted to her car, determined to get the hell out before the first sob. She should never have come back here. Waterford Farm represented everything she’d never had. Stability. Family. Love.
She tried to drown out the thoughts in her head by listening to the constant music of barking in the air. One in particular, over and over, louder and louder, closer and closer.
She almost stumbled when the dog darted in front of her, making her reach for her car for balance.
It was Lola, barking and barking. Three sharp barks, then she’d stare. Three loud barks, and that sad, sad look.
“What are you trying to tell me, girl?” Jessie dropped to her knees, emotions whirling as she smashed her teary face against the head of the insistent dog.
“She’s trying to tell you to stay.”
At the sound of Garrett’s voice behind her, Jessie pressed her face harder into Lola’s neck.
“She wants you to stay.”
Jessie looked down at the worn boot and jeans inches from her. She didn’t da
re speak or lift her head and give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d made her this emotional.
“And so do I.”
She had to look up then, and he flinched a little at the sight of her tears.
“I can’t,” she said. “I have to do an interview with someone. It’s really critical for my career, which is…” All I have. “Important to me.”
Lola licked Jessie’s face.
“She must like salt,” Jessie said with a weak laugh.
“She likes you,” he replied. “You could save her life by staying.”
Jessie angled her head. “Really? You haven’t buried me in enough guilt for one day, Garrett? I’m sorry, but I—”
“I’ll do the interview.”
She drew back, away from the next thorough lick to her face. Instantly, Lola stood on her haunches and put her paws on Jessie’s shoulders. Garrett’s eyes followed the move.
“I’ll do the interview,” he repeated. “If you stay and help me get her normal and eating again.”
She stared at him, stunned. “You’re that desperate to help this dog?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m that desperate.”
Very slowly, she put Lola’s paws down but kept one hand on Lola’s head as she stood up to face him. “Just so you know, that was an official question.”
He frowned. “That I’m desperate to save the dog?”
“Yes. That’s the kind of thing I want to know, Garrett. This won’t be a surface interview. This won’t be a PR puff piece for Waterford. And if it’s good, I’m going to want to get a video camera in your face, because this will be a pilot audition for me to get an anchor position for ITAL On Air.”
He closed his eyes as if she’d shot him.
“So, let’s be one hundred percent clear what you’re agreeing to. Are you that desperate, Garrett Kilcannon?”
His gaze dropped to Lola, who nuzzled into Jessie’s thigh and whimpered.
“Yes, I’m that desperate.”
“Wow.” She sighed softly, bending a little to put both hands on Lola’s head for a rub. “He’s going to be a good interview,” she whispered. “Thanks, Lola.”
Chapter Seven
Sit...Stay...Beg (The Dogfather Book 1) Page 6