Shane murmured a curse, but Chloe held her hand up to stop him. “It’s fine. All the more reason for me to walk her in and out of every business and all around Bushrod Square. It takes, on average, three minutes to fall in love with Daisy.”
Andi smiled down at the dog. “You had me in two, Daisy.”
“So, I’ll be marching through town for the next week, talking about my idea and events, and Daisy will win this thing for me.”
“Daisy…and Shane.” He leaned forward and put his hand over hers. “Like a ship. Sailing together. For a while. Until one leaves.”
Or sinks.
“I think I’ve missed something,” Andi said with a laugh. “But I have to tell you what I’ve been hearing around town, just so you know.”
“Spill,” Chloe said.
She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Jeannie Slattery has made it her business to tell every single woman who comes into her spa that this idea is a travesty. Even if they like it, she yammers on about how dumb it is. And she’s posted something that says, ‘Dangerous Dogs on the Loose’ right at the reception desk, with pictures…” She looked down at Daisy. “Of dogs that look like her.”
“Oh, I should go there,” Chloe said. “But I don’t want to waltz into a spa and make a scene. It’s not like a bakery or florist.”
“Why would you go in there?” Andi asked.
“Three minutes to love Daisy and change her mind.”
“Jeannie’s a notorious bitch,” Andi warned her.
“To customers?” Shane asked, taking out his phone to tap the screen a few times, staring at it, then putting it to his ear. “Yeah, hi. I’d like to make a special appointment for my girlfriend this afternoon.”
Girlfriend? She felt Andi’s leg add a tiny amount of pressure under the table and resisted the urge to look at her friend.
“Whatever you do for the works. Mani, pedi, massage, a face…thing.” He gave them a silent plea for more.
“Waxing?” Andi suggested.
“Waxing?” Chloe mouthed at her, eyes wide.
“Waxing,” he said into the phone. “Well, wherever she wants it.”
Chloe dropped her head into her hands with a moan, but Andi cracked up.
“So would you give her the works?” Shane asked. “Everything you have. Spend…a lot. Yeah, I’ll stop in later and give you my credit card. Everything deluxe. Three thirty is open? Perfect. Oh, and she has a therapy dog that cannot leave her side. Thanks.”
“Therapy dog?” Chloe asked.
“Yes. They’re legal at every business,” he said into the phone. “Thank you.” He tapped the phone and gave both women one hell of a cocky smile.
“That was impressive,” Andi said.
“And smart.”
“Just be sure they wax you and not the dog.” He stood up, taking his coffee. “Come on, Chloe. Let’s see if we can get that fall-in-love time down to a minute thirty.”
She looked up at him, blinking in disbelief.
“I meant with Daisy.”
“I know what you meant.”
But Andi was still laughing as she walked to the counter and gave them a quick wave goodbye.
Chapter Seventeen
Shane had thought of everything, including a small yellow jacket for Daisy, which didn’t say Therapy Dog since she, technically, was not. But it did the trick to get her in the door of the upscale two-story spa situated on a shady corner of Bushrod Square.
The receptionist, a twentysomething with lavender-tipped hair, reacted with delight to Daisy, and chatted easily while Chloe waited for her personal spa escort, which was apparently what one got when they bought “the works” at Bitter Bark Body & Mind Spa.
The appointment seemed like an elaborate and expensive way to get Daisy into this place, but it had worked, and there was no doubt Jeannie Slattery was a force to be reckoned with. She had an oversized felt board in the reception area that featured all sorts of local tidbits, health updates, and the promise of a yoga studio that was in the planning stages for the second floor of this building.
“A yoga studio?” Chloe said, reading the board. “What a great idea.”
“Do you practice?” the receptionist asked.
“I was thinking about doggie yoga.” She glanced to Daisy. “Would you like that?”
“That would be awesome,” the girl exclaimed. “I’ve heard about studios that let you bring your dog in for certain classes.” She added a wide smile. “You’re the lady who wants to change Bitter Bark to Better Bark, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Chloe said, reaching over her desk to shake her hand. “Chloe Somerset. And this is Daisy.”
“I’m Veronica.” She stood up to peer over the desk again at the dog. “She is so adorbs,” she said. “I love the idea, you know. But…”
“Not everyone does.”
She looked to the back door that led to the rest of the spa. “My boss is very opposed.”
“I’ve heard.”
“Really thinks it will turn our town into a laughingstock.”
“Laughing all the way to the bank,” Chloe replied.
“Well, we’re a spa, so without special therapy dogs, we couldn’t really participate. Maybe she thinks we’d be left out.”
Chloe lifted her brows. “Dogs need spa treatments, too,” she said, just as that door opened and another young woman came out and greeted her. There was more cooing over Daisy, and the receptionist shared the doggie yoga idea, which was received with two thumbs up.
So Jeannie might not like the idea, but her staff did.
The escort led them to the back, talking about the treatments, offering champagne—which Chloe accepted—and directed her to the showers, sauna, and changing rooms.
Daisy trotted along for everything.
When Chloe had to put Daisy’s leash down, the dog never strayed. She was curious, friendly, and always approachable with the few women she saw, so the plan was working so far just fine.
It continued that way through a thirty-minute facial, a manicure, pedicure and, oh, she couldn’t resist, a bikini wax that hurt like a mother but made her feel so silky smooth.
That made her want to show it off to someone. Like the man who bought it.
By the time she was led down the hall for her last treatment, the spa was empty. It had to be close to seven, and even with the snacks and drinks, Chloe was hungry.
So Daisy had to be, too. Chloe had given her the last of the treats stuffed into her bag during the pedicure, but almost canceled the therapy massage so she could to get Daisy home for dinner.
But then she was led into a room and left completely alone, so she had to wait for the massage therapist to tell her she wanted to leave.
It only made things worse that she’d been told this was a “red velvet” treatment and the whole room was scented with cinnamon.
“Sit, Daisy,” she ordered and, to her credit, she tried. But the smells were too good, and she made her way around the entire room, sniffing. Finally, after a moment, she settled down.
“Good girl,” Chloe said, bending over to give her some love. “You really are a sweet angel.”
And today, while lovely, might have been a waste of time. Without an encounter with Jeannie Slattery, Chloe feared it might have been a very expensive failed experiment.
Still waiting for the therapist, Chloe walked toward the window, opening a wooden slat to peek out, looking directly at the giant tree in Bushrod Square.
“You should be undressed and ready.”
Chloe jumped and turned at the woman’s voice, surprised to see it was Jeannie Slattery dressed in the cool-blue scrubs that all the attendants wore.
How long had she been standing there?
“Oh, I didn’t hear you.”
Daisy got up and barked once at the new arrival, but Chloe held her hand out, and instantly Daisy sat, silent.
“We keep things quiet here,” Jeannie said, making Chloe wonder if she was referring to the bark or the fact t
hat she’d snuck in.
And now, Chloe couldn’t leave because this was her opportunity to crack the nut that was Jeannie Slattery and show her what a great dog could be like. “You certainly have a lovely business. I’m so enjoying my treatments and…” She smiled and gestured to Daisy. “So’s my furry friend.”
“We save the best for last,” she said, coming in and walking to the window, purposely keeping a wide berth around Daisy.
“And what is that?”
“A hydrating massage with grapeseed and olive fruit oils, and at the end, a treat unlike any other: the red velvet special.”
“Sounds…delicious.”
Jeannie laughed as if she had a secret, tilting the shutter slats open even more. “Looking at the Bitter Bark tree?”
“Actually, it’s a hickory, as you know.”
“It’s a landmark, an institution, and the heart and soul of a town that doesn’t need a new name, Chloe.” She snapped the shutters like an exclamation point.
“I guess we’ll let the residents decide that,” Chloe said.
Jeannie gestured to the table. “I’ll step out while you get comfortable.”
“Are you doing this massage?”
“I’m highly trained. See?” On her way out, she pointed to the wall where three certificates and diplomas hung that would support that statement.
“Okay.” Well, she wanted to have an encounter with Jeannie to show her how nicely a dog could behave here. And change her mind.
She hadn’t expected to do that work while flat on her stomach wearing next to nothing. She considered leaving, but Daisy was snoozing in the corner now, and this would be her only chance with Jeannie.
Dropping the robe but keeping her bra and panties on, she slid under the cool sheets, cursing this idea that had gone from playful to uncomfortable. Massages weren’t her favorite thing in the world, and when given by a woman who clearly hated her? She’d be a ball of tension by the time it was over.
Jeannie came back and put on some soft new age music. She worked silently, and after a few minutes, Chloe settled with her face in the terry-wrapped hole, trying to let her muscles relax under Jeannie’s surprisingly strong hands.
“So,” Chloe said. “You see how nice my dog is?”
“I heard he was real nice running around and terrorizing the citizens of Bitter Bark yesterday.”
Her heart dropped. “She didn’t terrorize anyone, and someone unlocked my gate.”
“Hmmm.”
Or maybe she already knew that. Her whole body tensed at the hands that pressed on her back.
“I was thinking of some great ideas—”
“Miss Somerset.” She sounded like a schoolteacher chiding a student. “We don’t talk during treatments. It ruins the chi in the room. Please be quiet.”
Well. Shut me up. Chloe sighed and let the woman do her work. The only sound other than the barely audible relaxation music was Daisy’s extremely audible snoring.
Chloe gave up the fight and had nearly fallen asleep herself when something cold and wet hit her skin, a thick substance that glided on like butter, only creamier and…sweet. A cloying but familiar scent nearly choked her.
Instantly, Daisy got up and took a few steps closer, the look in her eyes not completely unlike what Chloe had seen in Shane’s after a few particularly heated kisses.
“No,” she said softly, giving her a stern look. “Stay, Daisy.”
She could have sworn she heard Jeannie chuckle as she used some kind of trowel to slather the overpowering cream down her back, skipping the silky panties but wiping the substance all the way down her leg. It smelled rich and…chocolate.
Chocolate?
Chloe shot up. “What is that?” She arched her back to look over her shoulder at a thick brown gunk that looked like…cake frosting.
Daisy barked and came closer.
“No, no, Daisy, get back!” Chloe jerked away and flashed a look to Jeannie. “Chocolate can kill dogs.”
“Oh, it’s not really chocolate,” she said with a condescending laugh. “It’s chocolate-scented body butter. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” She reached around and swiped her back, the gooey substance clumping between her fingers.
“It’s the deluxe treatment that your boyfriend ordered. There we go.” She finished with a flourish on the bottoms of her feet. “All finished!”
With that, Jeannie backed away, grabbed a towel to wipe her hands, and gave Chloe a tight smile. “You just wait for it to soak in now. Only fifteen or twenty minutes. Relax.”
Daisy barked, agitated now, the smell of chocolate overpowering.
“If that’s possible,” Jeannie added, throwing a look at Daisy. “There’s a reason dogs aren’t welcome in my sanctuary.”
Screw her sanctuary. “I need a towel and a shower,” Chloe said.
Jeannie totally ignored the demand, stepping outside. “Remember, the longer that body butter is on, the better you feel.” Her smile widened. “If I know you, you’ll love it so much you’ll want to change our name to Butter Bark.”
Without waiting for Chloe’s response, she closed the door behind her. Ire shot through Chloe, but she didn’t have time to seethe. She couldn’t take a chance that this wasn’t real chocolate.
Because Daisy was way too interested.
She sniffed her hand, and her stomach tightened. It sure smelled like chocolate.
“No, down, Daisy. Get down. No.” She forgot every command, and Daisy must have sensed the panic, because now she was up on her hind legs, barking with a little more force.
“No, no! Daisy!” She jerked her feet away seconds before Daisy’s tongue lapped her.
All Chloe could do was roll into a ball so Daisy couldn’t get even one lick, but now the dog was worked up and frustrated and scared and hungry.
“Damn it,” she muttered, grabbing at a towel on the bottom of the table to wipe herself off. It didn’t feel like frosting, but she couldn’t take a chance.
How was she going to get out of here without Daisy attacking her for a taste of body butter that might or might not kill her? Daisy ran around the table, knocking over a small stand on the side of the room, her ferocious-sounding bark up to Defcon 1 now.
She’d been set up for failure. Chloe and Daisy. And, for all she knew, that woman had this on some secret camera.
Wiping furiously at the cream, Chloe perched on the massage table and used every towel and sheet she could reach. She balled each up as it filled with body butter, then tossed it to a high counter so Daisy couldn’t reach. Still, the poor dog barked incessantly, so loud that Chloe was surprised someone didn’t come barging in to help.
Of course not, because this was exactly what Jeannie Slattery had planned.
Finally, with most of the frosting off her feet and legs, Chloe jumped off the massage table and gave a sharp, loud command to Daisy, unusual enough for the dog to freeze momentarily.
Grabbing the robe she’d worn in, Chloe opened the door, Daisy on her heels. And ankles. And calves. But she’d cleaned them well enough.
She found her way to the dressing room, shaking as she yanked the rubber bracelet that held her locker key. Stepping into her clothes, she swore when the linen pants stuck to the backs of her legs as though she’d rubbed down in superglue.
Very funny, Jeannie Slattery. Very freaking funny.
Daisy was back, nose under the pant leg, a low growl of desperation in her throat.
Her hands sticky, Chloe grabbed her bag and opened it to call Shane, but she caught the side of the handle and spilled everything with a clatter. Two bottles of hand sanitizer, her wallet, some pens, lipstick, a pack of tissues, loose change, her phone, the condoms and, shoot, about thirty of her business cards that had somehow gotten loose.
All over the floor of a locker room. Essentially a public bathroom.
She stared at the mess, an old familiar burn in her belly. Shame. Fear. Sickness. Anger. Filth.
It all bubbled up, ch
oking her, making her hands shake so hard she had to press them together to keep from letting out a moan.
She couldn’t touch any of that now!
Daisy instantly bent down and sniffed, running her tongue over a roll of breath mints.
“Daisy! No!” Her voice cracked, and the dog looked up at her, taking a step back at the harshness. “I mean, don’t, girl. Don’t eat any of that. We’ll get you home now. We’ll get you dinner.”
Tears threatened as she knelt down to start to pick everything up, trying to use her fingernails. She glanced around. Didn’t they keep latex gloves in this place?
Frustration rocked her so hard, she almost fell over.
Instantly, Daisy was beside her, looking up, almost…sorry.
“Oh, baby, it’s not your fault.” She reached around the dog’s head and wrapped her in an embrace, holding on for all the support she’d never imagined she’d get from a dog. “We can’t let her win. Shane would never let her win. We cannot let her win.”
The tears spilled over now, and when she closed her eyes, she didn’t see Jeannie Slattery and her crass red hair.
She saw Doreen Somerset in a stained blue T-shirt and the same khaki shorts she wore day after day after day because she couldn’t find the rest of her clothes. She saw a mess. A big, ugly mess. She saw the woman who’d tried to suck the normal out of Chloe.
She opened her eyes and stared at the floor, gently easing Daisy away.
“We can’t let her win,” she repeated, lowering herself to sit on the floor. It was cold and, well, don’t think about the dirt, Chloe. “We can’t let her win.”
One by one, she picked up her belongings and didn’t even bother to wash them. She dropped them into her bag. The phone. The wallet. The lipstick. The condoms.
She lifted those up and showed them to Daisy. “We can’t let her win,” she repeated.
She got it all but the business cards, strewn facedown on the tile. Let Jeannie clean them up.
With a push, she got up, leashed the dog and walked to the sink to wash her hands.
“She’s not going to win this,” she ground out, shaking off her hands, looking in the mirror and once again seeing the woman who had the power to take everything from her.
New Leash on Life (The Dogfather Book 2) Page 18