They settled on a time and Sydney popped the appointment into her online calendar just as Connor Baskin sidled up to her desk. “Ready?”
They’d met on Monday, both of them new to the station. Connor was a very small guy, maybe five four, with dark hair and black-rimmed glasses and Sydney had to bite her lip to keep from calling him Harry Potter. He seemed neat, organized, and no-nonsense, so she hoped they’d make a good team, wizardly powers or not.
“I am.”
Brad had assigned an intern to drive them, since neither Sydney, nor Connor—each new to the city—knew quite where they were going. Once settled into the back seat of a company sedan, Connor pulled out a tablet and began scrolling.
“So, I did some research on Junebug Farms and Jessica Barstow, the CEO.”
Sydney had done her own research, but she nodded and waited for Connor to continue, interested to see if he’d come up with anything she hadn’t.
“Junebug Farms is awesome,” said their driver, a young man of maybe nineteen or twenty. “My mom used to take me there all the time when I was a kid. Let me pet the goats and the horses. We got our dog, Duke, from there, too.” Apparently finished, he went quiet.
“Cool,” Sydney said, so as not to seem to be ignoring him.
“That is cool,” Connor said and then continued with his report. “Junebug Farms. Founded in 1992 by retired schoolteacher June Pickering and her husband, Clyde, it started as a small building with a barn and room to house fifteen dogs, twenty cats, and a handful of livestock. Over the years, Mrs. Pickering got involved in the community, expanded, and became a nonprofit. In 2001, she hired her granddaughter, Jessica Barstow, to help her run the place. Ms. Barstow has a business degree from Syracuse University. When Mrs. Pickering died in 2010, the shelter was willed to Ms. Barstow, who serves as CEO and the chairwoman of the board, which consists of five other members. Incidentally, those five people also serve as various department heads and, with the addition of a janitor and a retail manager, are the only paid employees of Junebug Farms. Everybody else is a volunteer.”
“How many are there altogether?” Sydney asked. “Volunteers.” She’d forgotten to look up that figure.
“It varies based on time of year,” Connor said, scrolling on his tablet, then pushing his glasses up by the nosepiece. “On average, close to a hundred.”
“Wow.”
“Right? Sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less.”
“That’s a lot of people working for free.”
Connor scrolled some more. “The telethon is in its eighth year and this is the first time it will not be hosted by Janet Dobson.” He looked up at Sydney. “She retired.”
Sydney nodded, aware of everything he’d said so far. They chatted a bit more and then they were sliding into a parking space. Sydney got out of the car and smoothed her pantsuit, looked around to take it all in. The scent of manure struck her.
“Wow. Ripe,” she mumbled, wrinkling her nose.
“Very.” Connor pointed across an expanse of green to a large barn. “That barn currently houses four horses, a burro, a dairy cow, and two sheep,” Connor informed her. There was an attached corral and she could make out what looked to be two of the horses sauntering around in the dirt. “And over here”—Connor spun and pointed in the opposite direction—“is the goat house.” As if on cue, soft bleating came from the vicinity.
Sydney filed it all away, knowing she would need to become familiar with the place if she was going to host the telethon, smell and all.
Connor asked their intern to wait in the car, then they headed up the walk. Two women on their knees busily planted flowers along the front of the main building. One smiled and the other waved. Connor held the glass door open for Sydney and she entered, blinking rapidly at the sudden increase in noise. The two of them stopped on the gray industrial mat and simply stood there.
“Wow,” Connor said.
“Yeah,” Sydney agreed, grimacing at the decibel level.
To their right was a small gift shop. A sign above the door said it was Paws & Whiskers, and it seemed jam-packed full of anything a new pet owner might need. To their left was what seemed to be a waiting area, peppered with chairs, a box of old, beat-up children’s toys in the corner. The walls there were dotted with various photos of animals, but Sydney was too far away to be more specific. A tall, thin man was mopping the floor. Dressed in dark work pants and a matching work shirt, he looked to Sydney like every creepy janitor from every creepy horror movie she’d ever watched, and when he looked up and smiled at them, his alarmingly thick glasses distorted his eyes and only solidified her wariness of him.
“Front desk,” Connor muttered as he pointed to a horseshoe-shaped counter. Three women milled around behind it, all late forties or older, and the phone seemed to be ringing off the hook as Sydney and Connor approached.
“I didn’t expect an animal shelter to be this busy,” Sydney said quietly to Connor, her voice almost drowned out when a set of double doors opened and the sound of barking, howling dogs increased tenfold. “My God.”
Connor waited until the woman on the phone hung up, then identified them. “We have an appointment with Ms. Barstow.”
“Yes, she’s expecting you,” the woman said pleasantly, her nametag telling Sydney her name was Regina – Volunteer. “Let me show you to the conference room and I’ll let her know you’re here.”
Once they were inside the conference room, the door shut behind them, Sydney realized—much to her dismay and surprise—that she was nervous. “I didn’t expect this place to be so big and…active,” she said.
Connor nodded. “I know. Me neither.”
It wasn’t often that Sydney felt ill-prepared for a job, and it wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed. “I researched a lot, but I didn’t have a chance to actually watch one of the telethons. I need to do that.” She was speaking more to herself, but Connor nodded again in agreement.
Regina the Volunteer came in with coffee for both of them and informed them that Jessica Barstow was on her way.
Sydney took a sip of the coffee (strong!) and had only just begun to look around the conference room, to notice the various photographs on the walls and the way the décor was neat and tidy, but inexpensive, possibly secondhand, when the door opened again and a ridiculously attractive woman walked in. Auburn hair in a ponytail, clothed in jeans and a lightweight, hooded green sweater, ballet flats on her feet, she emanated the perfect combination of casually dressy and comfortably in charge.
“Hi there,” she said with a huge smile that crinkled the skin around her blue eyes and held out a hand. “You must be Sydney Taylor. Jessica Barstow. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m pleased to finally meet you.”
Sydney stood and grasped the hand, feeling strength, warmth, and softness all at once before mentally shaking herself. “Same here. This is my producer, Connor Baskin.”
An expression of surprise zipped across Jessica Barstow’s face as she shook his hand as well. It was gone quickly, but was obvious enough for somebody who didn’t know her well to recognize it. “Oh. A new producer, too. Brad didn’t tell me.”
To his credit, Connor didn’t stumble or stutter, but took things in stride. “Sorry about that. You’ve had”—he consulted his tablet—“Jack Preston in the past.”
Jessica nodded as she pulled out a chair and dropped the folder she’d brought with her on the table. “For years, yes.” The friendly happiness on her face dimmed considerably.
“Well, I assure you, I’m good at my job.” Connor smiled. “I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t miss him.”
Jessica let half a beat go by before she nodded and took a seat. “Fair enough.” She clasped her hands together in front of her and set them on the table. “Where would you like to start? I’m assuming you’ll want a tour? Maybe brainstorm a bit about ideas?” She opened the folder. “I brought the contact information for the adopters Brad asked for.”
Sydney took the sheet Jessica s
lid her way and passed it to Connor. “Can you e-mail me this as well? I’m not much of a hard copy person, and I don’t want to lose it.” She fished in her bag and pulled out a business card, the first one she’d handed out since her arrival. “My address is at the bottom.”
“Of course.” Jessica nodded and Sydney noticed her chewing on the inside of her lip. “Why don’t we start with a tour. You should know what you’re dealing with here. Then we’ll sit with our PR head and go from there.”
They stood, and when Jessica pulled the conference room door open, Sydney immediately missed the muffled quiet it had afforded her. The noise increased, and somehow, in the twenty minutes they’d been in the conference room, half a dozen more people had entered the main lobby.
“Wow, does it get loud in here,” Sydney said, a hint of awe in her voice.
Jessica smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll start with the dog wing.”
Sydney followed Jessica. Connor followed Sydney, whose shoes clicked loudly on the faux-marble floor, adding to the cacophony of the place. And when Jessica pulled open one of the double doors leading to the dog wing, the noise quadrupled. Barking. Howling. Whining. All of it, and it was endless. Jessica didn’t wait for them, but kept walking down the aisle, past kennel upon kennel on either side, until she stopped at a desk with an empty chair about halfway down.
“This is where Lisa Drakemore, our intake and adoption head, sits,” Jessica said, raising her voice to be heard over the canine symphony. “At capacity, we can house around thirty dogs, maybe a few more. We don’t like to have that many, obviously, but we’re a no-kill shelter, so we make room where we can, sometimes doubling up in the kennels and calling on our foster parents.”
Sydney watched Jessica’s mouth moving, but her voice seemed to fade away until all Sydney could hear were dogs. Abandoned, abused, neglected dogs. All around her. Everywhere she looked there was a pair of sad brown eyes looking back at her from behind a mesh fence. Her heart rate picked up speed and she had trouble taking a full breath. Jessica was still talking. At least she thought she was. She couldn’t hear her voice. At all. Stars filled the edges of her vision and suddenly, she had no choice but to get out of there. With a muttered, “excuse me,” she turned and hurried up the aisle, back the way they’d come, out the double doors, across the lobby as fast as her now-rubbery legs could carry her in high heels, out the front door, and into the open, into the blessed fresh air. She stopped on the front sidewalk and bent at the waist, hands braced on her knees as she sucked in as much oxygen as she could. “What the hell,” she muttered, waiting for her vision to clear.
“Ma’am? You okay?” The gravelly male voice startled her, but not as much as the appearance of the janitor when she lifted her head. He was huge. Without forethought, she gasped and stepped away from him. Her hand lifted of its own volition, palm out, as if warding him off.
“I’m fine,” she said, painfully aware of her own overreaction, of how breathless she sounded. The janitor took a step toward her with his hand out, but Connor burst through the front door just then.
“Sydney. You okay?” He laid a hand on her arm.
Jessica Barstow came out next, her face an obvious mix of concern and irritation. She looked to the janitor, who simply shrugged.
“She looked like she needed some help,” he said quietly, eyes wide, voice gentle.
“Thanks, Bill,” Jessica said warmly and squeezed his arm. “I think we’re good.”
He nodded and went inside.
“Are you okay?” Jessica asked, her deep blue eyes catching Sydney’s and holding them. “Regina’s bringing some water.”
“I’m fine,” Sydney said. “Just embarrassed.” She stood up and cleared her throat, trying to shake off any remaining weirdness and return to her stoic, professional self…which proved harder than she expected. “I’m sorry if I was rude to your…guy.” She gestured in the direction the janitor had gone, her heart still beating like a hummingbird’s. “I didn’t mean to be. He just…startled me.” And he’s huge, she thought.
The doors opened and Regina the Volunteer came out with a paper cup of water. “Here you go,” she said. “Did you have a panic attack? I used to get those all the time. They’re awful.”
Sydney took the cup with a nod of thanks but didn’t answer, as it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss with a complete stranger. And frankly, she was surrounded by them. She downed the water, then inhaled slowly and deeply, let it out gradually. “I think I’m okay now.”
“You look really pale,” Connor said. “Maybe we should reschedule.”
It was the last thing Sydney wanted to do, but the jelly-like weakness in her knees made her doubt how far she could walk. After a quick internal debate, she gave a slight, reluctant nod of assent. “Okay.” Turning to look at Jessica, whose expression was now unreadable, she said, “I’m really sorry. I’m not sure what happened.”
Jessica shrugged. “It’s fine. Can we meet tomorrow?”
They set up a time for the afternoon, Sydney vowing to eat a good lunch before showing up. Maybe her blood sugar was low. Then they bid their goodbyes, Sydney apologized once more, and headed for the car where the intern stood next to the driver’s side door, obviously wondering why they were done so soon.
CHAPTER FOUR
“And then I don’t know what the hell happened. All the color drained from her face and she just…ran.” Jessica shook her head, annoyed all over again, and took a sip of her wine. “Let me tell you, she certainly didn’t make me feel better about all these changes.”
Catherine and Emily exchanged glances.
Jessica glared at them. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” Catherine asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
“Stop looking at each other like I’m overreacting. I’m not.”
It was a gorgeous spring evening and the three of them sat on Emily’s sixth-floor balcony watching the pedestrians wander and the light traffic roll by.
“Are you sure you’re not?” Catherine asked. “I mean, you know how the first visit to the dog wing can be. It’s overwhelming and heartbreaking and shockingly loud. Are you sure you’re not giving her the benefit of the doubt because you’re mad Janet’s gone?”
Catherine had a point about the dog wing. That was true. Walking in there for the first time, the smell a combination of dog, feces, urine, rain, and dog food, could be devastating. And the sound. The employees of Junebug were obviously used to it and could almost tune it out. But for somebody who’d never been exposed to that kind of endless noise—not to mention the reality of what they were looking at—it was a lot. “Well…maybe she just had trouble with it. But she wasn’t nice to Bill.”
“What do you mean?”
“She gave him a look.” Jessica sipped again. “Like…all judgey.”
“Aw, really? Bill’s sweet.” Catherine grimaced
Emily held up a hand. “Okay, I know I’m fairly new at the shelter and I don’t mean any disrespect at all here, but…at first glance, Bill kind of looks like a serial killer. If I didn’t know he was a super nice guy, he might scare me, too.”
Jessica sighed loudly, purposely omitting the fact that Sydney had apologized. “Why can’t you two just let me hate this woman?”
Catherine grinned at her. “When she gives you a good reason, we will.”
“Well.” Jessica looked at Catherine and waggled her eyebrows. “There is one reason.”
Emily looked from one woman to the other. “There is? What? What is it?”
“You didn’t tell her?” Jessica asked Catherine, incredulous, as they shared just about everything.
Catherine shook her head. “I’d actually forgotten, to be honest.”
“Tell me what?” Emily looked expectant. Jessica deferred to Catherine with a wave of her hand.
With a big sigh, Catherine said, “Apparently, new telethon host Sydney Taylor was here a couple months ago and picked up Anna in a bar.”
“No!�
�� Emily’s eyes went wide.
“Yes. According to Anna. So do with that what you will.” Catherine reached for a slab of cheese, put it on a cracker, and popped it into her mouth.
“Would she lie about that kind of thing?” Emily asked.
Jessica shrugged. “She might embellish, but I don’t think she’d make it up.”
Catherine made a face that said she agreed.
“Wow.” Emily sat back in her chair.
“What does that mean?” Catherine asked, squinting at her.
“It means I’m pleasantly surprised that Ms. Taylor plays on our team. Aren’t you?”
Jessica laughed. “Yeah, there is that. Point for her.”
“She has abhorrent taste in women,” Catherine added.
“And, point deducted,” Jessica said, making Catherine laugh out loud.
The three of them sat in companionable silence for a few moments, simply enjoying the evening, the mild late-spring air, each other’s company.
“So, how are things with you guys?” Jessica asked. “With your families?” She knew that Emily’s mother hadn’t been thrilled to learn that her daughter had fallen for the accountant at the animal shelter to which their well-known charitable foundation donated significantly, and she knew how hard that had been for Catherine.
Emily looked at Catherine and her face held such reverence that Jessica had to look away, felt as if she was intruding on a private moment. “It’s been really good lately,” Emily said and Catherine smiled in agreement. “My mother comes around. She just needs to have all the facts before she passes judgment and the facts here are simple: Catherine is amazing and I love her. End of story.” She leaned forward and kissed Catherine chastely on the mouth.
“Ugh,” Jessica said, making a mock gagging noise. “The cuteness of you two is going to send me into a sugar coma.”
Their evening ended not long after that, as Jessica was anxious to get home. Though she’d never admit it to Catherine, there were times—only sporadic ones—when she found herself almost painfully envious of the relationship Catherine and Emily had. She wasn’t jealous; she had known Catherine for a very long time, loved her dearly, and was thrilled to see her so happy. And most of the time, Jessica was just fine with her life the way it was. But once in a while…once every so often…she’d see the way Emily looked at Catherine or the way they reached for one another’s hands, entwined their fingers together without even looking, and she got a pain in her chest so sharp, it yanked the breath right out of her lungs.
Dare to Stay (Puppy Love Romances Book 3) Page 3