The Dog Town Collection

by Sandy Rideout

  “Remola, really. Must you bring that dog everywhere?” Her mother pursed her lips and shook her impeccably highlighted hair. “It makes you look odd.”

  “Oh, Mom, I am odd. There’s no point pretending otherwise.”

  The older gentleman faded away discreetly but Arden stood her ground. “Leo’s our ace in the hole, Mrs. Malone. Just today, he introduced us to a handsome billionaire.”

  “You don’t know he was a billionaire,” Remi said.

  “Well, he could afford the most expensive dog in the world,” Arden said. “And a million doesn’t take you far these days.”

  “Tell me more about this handsome billionaire,” Betsy said.

  “It was just someone we met on the beach,” Remi said

  “So handsome,” Arden said, fanning herself with one hand. “He took a shine to our Remi.”

  “Really?” Betsy Malone’s face lit up. “Despite the dog?”

  “Because of the dog.” Arden smiled impishly. “No joke. I think I heard an angel choir in the distance. He could be the one.”

  Betsy shook her head. “Don’t toy with a mother’s emotions, Arden. I want to see Remi settle down. She’s never been the same since—”

  “Mom, quiet.” It didn’t always work, but this time her mom subsided. Why had she come tonight, anyway? She rarely showed up for anything, and now, when Remi needed to keep herself sharp for her big break, her mom arrived on cue to deflate her confidence.

  “Since what?” Arden pressed.

  “Since the garden of youth,” Betsy said, giving Remi a wink. “If you want to know more, ask Remi.”

  “Oh, you bet I will.” Arden eyed her friend curiously. “You’ve been keeping some deep dark secrets down in that basement, Remola.”

  Remi flinched. “Don’t call me that. No one else does, not even my father. And speaking of dad, where is he?”

  “At the bar with his golf buddies,” Betsy said. “Thank goodness you’re here. Otherwise I’d be on my own.”

  “Actually, I’m here for work. I need to meet and mingle.”

  “Mingle? Who is this new Remola, who meets handsome billionaires and rubs elbows with the locals?” Betsy’s tone was light, but she actually looked baffled. “Never mind, dear. You can tell me all about it on Sunday.”

  “Sunday? Oh right, the family barbeque. Honestly, I don’t think I can make it, Mom.”

  A cloud passed over Betsy’s face. “You most certainly will make it. Your aunt is coming all the way from San Diego.”

  Bending, Remi scooped up Leo. He seemed to shrink to half his normal size in Betsy’s presence. Remi pretty much did the same.

  “Remola, put that dog down. You can’t carry him around like a purse. What will people think?”

  “People will think she’s the luckiest person in all of Dog Town to have such a beautiful beagle,” Cori said, appearing beside them.

  Betsy scanned Cori from her fine short hair to her boots, pausing for a long moment on the gloves. “And you are?”

  “Cori Hogan. I’m the one who rescued Leo and placed him with Remi. We were just saying what a perfect match they are. I’ve asked Remi to carry Leo around all night to get him used to crowds. It’s an important aspect of a rescue dog’s ongoing socialization.”

  Betsy wasn’t easily foiled. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Sometimes you just need to trust the best dog trainer in Dorset Hills to know how things should be done. Right, Remola?”

  “Right.” Remi fought a grin. “Treat him just like a designer handbag, you said.”

  Cori’s eyes narrowed but she carried on the charade. “A dog like Leo will open doors for you everywhere. You’ve got to show him off.”

  Remi’s view of Cori had changed in an instant: the trainer didn’t just fight for canine underdogs but the human variety as well. As she turned, she briefly squeezed Cori’s gloved hand and whispered, “You’re amazing.”

  “True.” Cori pulled her hand away and eased into the crowd. “It’s a burden sometimes.”

  Chapter 4

  Remi liked and respected Julia Berens, but she was more than a little pleased that salmonella chose that day among all days to take her colleague down. Marcus had tried pressuring Michelle to take the lead on the Pemberton account, but she had no intention of cancelling her weekend getaway.

  As a result, Remi found herself walking into the courtyard of the Barton Gallery of Art on Friday morning alone. Well, not completely alone, as Leo was at her side in his formal black leather collar and leash. He stopped just inside the square to sprinkle the bonsai garden. More specifically, he peed on a sign with an illustration of a dog lifting its leg that had a large “X” crossed over it. The City had recently started planting these signs in public gardens. If Leo deliberately sought them out to sniff and lift his leg, other dogs must be doing it, too. Things had a way of backfiring like that in Dog Town.

  The gallery was an elegant building, and modern by Dorset Hills standards. The City had knocked down an old warehouse that no longer fit the aesthetic of the downtown core and created the gallery and courtyard. Remi had seen everything in the gallery but that didn’t stop her from visiting often. She found it a peaceful retreat and the exhibits, though few, were eclectic and interesting. As a bonus, dogs were welcome inside, as they were in most Dog Town institutions. Leo was one of the most cultured mutts in town.

  Today, the front entrance to the Barton Gallery was concealed by boarding that appeared to have been tagged with graffiti and whitewashed. A security guard was directing people to the side doors, but the courtyard café was still open.

  Remi had left herself about 20 minutes to stake out a good seat and catch her breath before Hannah Pemberton arrived. Arden had pressed a list of positive affirmations into her hand as she left the office and while Remi read them, she knew they wouldn’t help as much as her spotted socialite. Dogs had been her comfort and refuge as long as she could remember.

  Hannah arrived right on time, clicking over the flagstones on fuchsia stilettos. She wore a light sundress with a pink floral pattern, a big straw hat and a matching purse in the shape of a basket. The outfit may have been perfect for Provence. Here in Dog Town, it stood out like a nicely manicured sore thumb. That said, Hannah would have attracted stares no matter what she wore. The pretty teenager had become a beautiful woman with porcelain skin and dark hair falling past her shoulders in waves.

  Pushing her sunglasses up onto her head, Hannah scanned the tables in the café. She skimmed over Remi on her first pass and did the same on the way back. Still, Remi didn’t raise her hand. She wanted to know exactly what Hannah remembered, especially from high school.

  On Hannah’s third pass, Remi smiled and stood to offer the client-friendly handshake she’d practiced. Leo stepped forward with his usual confidence.

  “Oh, what a little darling,” Hannah said. “I love beagles.”

  “He’s on the small side, but otherwise true to breed,” Remi said, lifting him into her lap as she sat down. “Noisy and food-oriented with plenty of energy.”

  “Is he as sweet as he seems?”

  Remi nodded, smiling. “Everyone loves Leo. I can take him anywhere.”

  Setting her basket on the flagstones at her feet, Hannah rested her elbows on the round table and looked at Remi. Her hazel eyes looked dusky green under the shade of her hat brim. “Marcus said in his note that we graduated high school in the same year. I have to admit I don’t recognize you, Remi.”

  “I wore glasses back then, and my hair was darker. So I guess it’s understandable.”

  Remi had not only been in some of Hannah’s high school classes, she’d also sat beside her in third and fifth grade. They’d teamed up to build a solar system out of spray-painted tennis balls once, and they’d sung in choir together, too. But Remi had tried to move through the world unnoticed, and apparently she’d succeeded. Now, it was disheartening, but on the bright side, she could start over and perhaps impress Hannah in a way that wou
ld have been impossible back then.

  Hannah shook her head ruefully. “I’d check my yearbook if I hadn’t burned it, along with my diaries, before I started college.”

  “You didn’t.” Hannah had been popular all through school. Why wouldn’t she want to look back and revel in that?

  “I did.” Her quiet laugh had a hint of bitterness. “I couldn’t take them with me, and I couldn’t risk Mom going through my stuff if I left it behind.”

  “That’s what locks are for, Hannah. Mine are in an old trunk in my mom’s basement.”

  Hannah dropped her shades over her eyes. “It would have taken a bombproof safe. My mom liked a challenge.”

  Remi sensed she’d stepped into something messy, and the sooner she backed out of it, the better for her career aspirations. “So, how does it feel to be back in Dorset Hills?”

  “Honestly? Awful. Like I’ve been stuck in a school locker and buried.” Hannah lifted her glasses and smiled. “Joking.” She dropped them again. “Not joking.”

  Remi swallowed hard. Hannah wasn’t the lighthearted girl she remembered, and this meeting wasn’t going according to Marcus’ script. Tilling, seeding and watering this soil would be more challenging than she expected. She ran her fingers over Leo’s sleek fur and tried again. “I can imagine it’s difficult,” she said.

  “You can.” It was a statement. A dare.

  “I think I can, yes. I hated high school and sometimes it feels like I’m still wearing the locker coffin. It’s a good analogy.”

  The glasses came right off and Hannah stared at her. “Then why stay here?”

  “It’s home. My family’s here, for better or worse. Often worse.” Stroking Leo’s ears, Remi thought for a moment. “I figured that feeling would fall away one day. Like old armor that disintegrates.”

  “How’s that working out?”

  Remi laughed. “It’s the extra 10 pounds I can’t seem to lose.”

  Reaching for Remi’s water glass, Hannah asked, “Do you mind?”

  As Hannah downed half the water, Remi raised her hand to summon the server. The girl looked to be about 16 or 17 and had been having a tough shift. She’d delivered the wrong order to an old woman and gotten chewed out. Then she’d dropped a sandwich before it reached its destination; a schnauzer snatched it and the owner snapped. Everyone had that end-of-summer crustiness she’d felt on the street the day before. Even Hannah, it seemed.

  “Can I help you?” the server said.

  Hannah looked the girl over, from her limp blonde hair, to the sweat stains under the armpits of her blue uniform and down to the battered sneakers on her very large feet. “Just a coffee, please. Milk instead of cream.”

  “Another large cappuccino for me,” Remi said. She had Marcus’ credit card and she intended to put some miles on it. After the server left, Remi gestured to the Barton Gallery and tried a new tactic. “I had no idea back in school that your mom was an artist.”

  “She wasn’t, then. That came later, after we moved to New York.” Hannah stared at the boarded-up main doors and shook her head. “Mom grew up in Dorset Hills and it broke her heart to leave. So she turned to painting and sculpture. She always said this town inspired her, so it’s only right to exhibit here.”

  “I can’t wait to see the collection,” Remi said. “Her work is so well-regarded.”

  Hannah shrugged. “I never really liked it.”

  One by one, Remi’s overtures hit icebergs and sank. If Julia were here now they’d be hugging and discussing hospital expansion. “Well, I love your mom’s watercolors of the hills and the old churches. They capture the best of this town. Before it went dog crazy.”

  “That’s nice to hear. But I was glad to leave Dorset Hills behind. Having to represent Mom’s estate, it seems like I can never get far enough away from it.”

  Sweat started to trickle down Remi’s back. Everything she’d imagined about Hannah seemed to be wrong. In school, she’d been bright, funny, artistic, musical and athletic. The full package. How could she have hated Dorset Hills so much? It didn’t add up.

  “Do you still sing?” Remi asked. “You had a beautiful voice. I remember crying when you sang ‘I Will Always Love You’ at 11th grade talent night.”

  A light went on in Hannah’s eyes and flickered out just as fast. “I love singing, but I don’t have much opportunity anymore.”

  Reaching into her basket purse, Hannah checked her phone and then set it on the table. It was a sign that Remi was running out of time to make a connection. The way things were going, she’d be shackled to her basement desk permanently.

  “I was so sorry to hear about your mom’s passing. I remember her.”

  “You do?” Hannah’s eyes turned hungry.

  Remi nodded. “She was fun, and that couldn’t be said of many moms—certainly not mine. Do you remember our fourth-grade field trip to the agricultural museum? Your mom came with us and got on the bad side of a security guard for touching an antique tractor. After that, she kept on touching things when his back was turned until we all got in trouble for laughing.”

  At last, Hannah’s face truly lit up. “That was Mom. Always thumbing her nose at ‘the establishment.’ Including my dad, unfortunately.”

  Again the light flickered out. Remi wanted to steer the conversation to safer channels, but everywhere she turned there seemed to be a landmine. Marcus was obviously right: she wasn’t ready for primetime.

  The anxiety made her throat tighten and her voice squeak. “I hear she painted some amazing portraits of you, as well.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” Hannah said. “In fact, I really should be going.”

  Remi’s stomach clenched so hard a wave of nausea rolled through her. “Your coffee’s just coming now.”

  Hannah reached for her phone, joggling the table just at the moment the server set the cup down. The coffee slopped over the brim and into the saucer. “Hey,” Hannah said.

  The server’s pale eyes filled instantly with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  Remi glanced at the girl’s nametag. “It’s okay, Brianne. You could just bring a fresh cup.”

  “Never mind,” Hannah said. “I’m leaving anyway.”

  “Don’t leave,” Remi and Brianne chimed at the same time.

  Hannah actually smiled. “Jinx. Or something like that. Fine, I’ll drink the coffee.”

  Brianne was gone as fast as her big feet could carry her. “Poor kid,” Remi said, opening a packet of sugar and sprinkling some on her cappuccino.

  “I didn’t mean to snap at her. This visit is just stirring up some ghosts.”

  “She’s having a rough day and probably starts school again next week.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Hannah said, “The invisible locker coffin strikes again.”

  “I think you’re right. I know that look.”

  They kept their eyes down when Brianne returned with the coffee and placed it gently in front of Hannah. The girl backed away carefully but bumped into the next table. There was a clatter of cutlery and a curse from the occupant.

  Ignoring the kerfuffle, Hannah lifted the little pitcher and poured it into her coffee. “Cream. It figures.”

  “Let me fix this,” Remi said.

  “Really, I have to go. I’m meeting someone.” Hannah gathered her things. “Let’s cut to the chase, Remi. I know you’re here to ask me to donate to the hospital foundation and I’ll give it some thought. Health care doesn’t particularly align with my mom’s interests.”

  “Doesn’t it align with everyone’s interest? You were born at this hospital.”

  “Yes, but that’s the extent of it, I’m happy to say.”

  Hannah rose and desperation forced a word out of Remi’s mouth: “Wolfhounds.”

  “What?” Hannah’s perfect eyebrows soared above her sunglasses.

  “Your mom loved wolfhounds. She had a pair of them. Samson and Delilah. And before that Goliath, and David, the toy poodle.”

 
; Hannah plunked down again. “How do you know this?”

  “Good memory for dogs. That’s all.”

  “I haven’t thought about David the poodle in years. I hated that dog. You know what my brother and I used to call him? Armpit. He was so annoying.”

  “Who, your brother?”

  Hannah’s laugh sounded genuine. “The poodle. Although my brother is annoying, too. Do you remember Jay? He was four years ahead of us in school.”

  Remi shook her head. “My memory works best on dogs. I have an all-dogs-all-the-time mental feed.”

  “Sounds like you and my mom had something in common. I think you’ll love this exhibit.”

  “Leo and I will come often, you can be sure of it.”

  Hannah leaned back in her seat, staring at the entrance again. “There’s something I’m worried about. Mayor Bradford’s promised a big surprise in honor of my mom. He says I’ll love it. Is he the sort of man you can trust?”

  Scraping at the sugary froth around the rim of her cup, Remi chose her words carefully. “He hasn’t been in office long, so there isn’t much to go on. I will say he seems very particular about appearances, so I’m sure he’ll put a lot of thought into this surprise.”

  “He’d better. My mom was particular, too, and she didn’t suffer fools gladly. I’m not sure about this town. Some things make me shake my head.”

  “Dorset Hills takes itself seriously—sometimes too seriously. But if you scratch the surface, all the things your mom loved so much are still here: community, creativity and of course, dogs.”

  Hannah’s eyelids fluttered, as if to fight off tears. “She was so homesick after we left. I couldn’t bear to see it, so I didn’t go home often. I thought we had plenty of time.”

  She lost the battle and big drops spilled over and ran down her cheeks. Panic fluttered in Remi’s chest like a trapped bat. She’d made Hannah cry. That had to be top of the list of don’ts for client management.

  Without warning, Leo gathered himself and leapt from Remi’s lap into Hannah’s. She gave a startled scream, but her hand came down to anchor him. He turned twice and then curled up on her dress.