by C. Coal
"She could've taken her back, couldn't she?"
He ruffled Princess's ears. "Maybe. But no way was I going to let that happen." He gave Princess the treat and winked at Amy. "I'd already fallen in love by then."
Amy felt her stomach flip. How could a man that gorgeous also be that sweet?
A woman in a pantsuit with her arms crossed tight across her chest pointedly cleared her throat and glared at them.
Amy blushed. She'd completely forgotten everyone else even existed.
"I'll be right with you ma'am."
He grinned at her and rolled his eyes.
She grinned right back. "Sir, that book is in our romance section against the far wall. Looks like we have two copies available. Let me know if you can't find it."
"Thanks." He flashed her his lopsided smile one last time and walked away.
Amy stared after him as the throat-clearing, pant-suited woman stepped up to the counter.
"How can I help you?" Amy asked.
"I was wondering if you were ever going to finish wrapping my books." The woman nodded her chin towards the books Amy had been wrapping when Princess jumped on the counter.
Amy forced a smile on her face. "Of course. Almost done."
As she finished the woman's books and helped another customer, she told herself, five more hours. Just five more hours and then all the holiday insanity would finally be over and she could go home, sit on her couch, and watch mindless television for the next two days.
(Her family was too far away for her to visit and she'd begged off being a third wheel at any of her friend's houses.)
* * *
At five o'clock Amy was busy straightening the front gift display when the man and Princess returned once more.
"Hey, Princess! What brings you back?" Amy called.
The man's eyes crinkled in the most adorable way and she couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry. I just couldn't resist," she added.
"That's okay. Just use my vulnerability against me. I share my deepest, most painful secret with you and you just turn into a joke. Fine. Whatever. Doesn't hurt at all." The way he smiled she knew he'd taken the joke in stride despite his words.
Amy bent down to scratch Princess's ears and give her a kiss. "So how can I help you?"
He glanced around, but no one else was paying them any attention. "Well, I realized I had one more gift to buy. But I'm not really sure what to get this person."
"Okay."
"So it's for a woman."
Amy felt a little jolt of sadness, but she should've known that a man like this would have someone special in his life.
"Okay. I'm going to need a little more to work with than that. Women are not one-size-fits-all."
"She's very beautiful."
"I hope you know more about her than that."
He blushed slightly. "She's also very intelligent. Clearly loves books. I thought maybe a book would be a good choice?"
Amy shook her head. "No."
"Why not?"
"Well…Do you know all the books she owns already? Because if you don't the chances of buying her one she already has are pretty high. As are the chances of buying some book that everyone else loves and finding out she hates it. Like me, for example. When I was a kid I had three different people buy me The Lord of the Rings and I could never manage to get through it. So, see? Books are probably a really bad idea."
He pursed his lips in the most beautiful way possible. "Hm. You might be right. Okay. Then what should I buy a woman who is beautiful, intelligent, loves books, hard-working, funny…."
"What about her hobbies? Interests?"
He shrugged.
Amy winced. She'd thought he was such an amazing guy, but the fact that he didn't know one specific interest or hobby of this woman's showed that he was a pretty oblivious guy.
But this was her job, so she'd help as best she could. "Does this woman like Princess?"
"Pretty sure she likes Princess more than she likes me, to be honest."
More proof the guy was pretty and self-absorbed if the woman he was interested in took more interest in his dog than him. Ah well. Thinking he was perfect in all ways had been a nice fantasy while it lasted.
Amy shrugged. "Then give her something with Princess's photo in it, maybe? Like a keychain or something?"
"I don't think she likes Princess that much. And it's still early days. It'd probably be a little odd for her to have a picture of my puppy at this stage."
Bryce bustled up, not even acknowledging them before he started speaking. "Amy, that woman back there needs three different books. She doesn't know the names of any of them and I can't figure out what she's asking for. Go help her." He was gone before she could even respond.
She shrugged at the gorgeous man whose name she still didn't know. "I'm sorry. I…I don't know what to recommend. I…I hear jewelry always works…"
She bent down to give Princess one last ear scratch.
"Would it work with you?"
"Me? Oh, no. The way to my heart is a box of dark chocolate caramel truffles from Holland's. Those things are to die for." She walked away. "Good luck! Whatever you choose to get her, I'm sure she'll love it."
She swallowed a little sigh of regret that the man she would've dreamed about if she'd had a spare moment for such things was not only interested in some perfect-sounding woman but a little self-centered and shallow to boot.
* * *
By eight forty-five, Amy had hit her limit. After two weeks of non-stop motion she could barely function. She leaned against the counter near the cash register and stared at some space on the far wall.
Her feet hurt so bad she could barely stand, but there weren't any chairs around.
Just fifteen more minutes and the holiday retail insanity would be over for another year. Just fifteen more minutes…
She'd already turned off the holiday music. Not that it mattered. Because the songs were still playing on a never-ending loop in her head.
The door chimed as someone walked in. She closed her eyes. Please don't let it be someone with a last-minute shopping list a mile long. Because she just knew Bryce would keep them open to help the person out. One, because holiday cheer and all that. And, two, because sales were what kept the doors open.
She glanced up.
"Princess! Back again."
He blushed slightly. "Uh, Ken, please."
She glanced over the edge of the counter. "Where's the actual Princess?"
"I left her at home for this one."
"Well, Ken. What can I help you with? Change your mind about buying a book for that special woman?"
"Actually, no. You gave me the perfect idea when I was here before." He blushed once more as Amy waited for him to continue. "I. Um. Here." He reached into his shopping bag and thrust a small red box wrapped in a golden bow at her. The sticker holding the bow to the box read, Holland's.
She took the box out of instinct, but held it in front of her, not sure what she was supposed to do with it.
"Go ahead. Open it."
"Wait. It's for me?"
He scratched nervously at his neck. "Yeah. I. Um. Yeah."
Amy stared at him, fascinated. How could a man as gorgeous as he was suddenly be so nervous?
And then it occurred to her that this gorgeous man that she'd been drooling over since the first time she saw him, had bought her a Christmas gift.
Her. She was the attractive, intelligent woman he'd been talking about earlier?
"Are there dark chocolate caramel truffles in here?" she asked, unable to suppress a happy grin.
"There are." He matched her grin for grin.
"You bought me a box of dark chocolate caramel truffles?"
He nodded. "Yeah. And a card. Oops. Here."
He thrust a red envelope at her.
Amy couldn't stop smiling as she opened the card even though she felt herself turning bright, bright red.
Inside was a very cute puppy picture with Happy Holidays printed ove
r the top. He'd signed it Princess and Ken.
Amy stared at the card, her hand shaking.
Ken cleared his throat. "I, um. I've been looking for a woman that Princess likes and that likes her as much as I do and…well. Um. Can we maybe grab a coffee sometime and get to know each other better?"
Amy stared at him. Was this really happening?
Had the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen in her life, and who had the cutest puppy on the planet, just asked her out?
Before she could answer, Ken said, "You probably have a boyfriend, don't you? Oh, this is so awkward. I'm so sorry. I…I should've thought before I just…"
"What? No. Stop. I don't have a boyfriend. I'm just…" She laughed, happiness bubbling up inside her like a fountain. "I was just surprised, that's all. It never occurred to me that you might like me."
He stared at her, plainly shocked. "But you're gorgeous. And smart. And kind. And…Why wouldn't I like you?"
Amy was wise enough not to argue with his assessment. Instead she said. "So, coffee. When?"
"Tonight? Or, some other day if that doesn't work for you."
Amy glanced at the clock. It was 8:55. Close enough to closing and she'd busted her butt for the last two weeks. They could clean up and close the register without her.
"How about right now?"
"Right now? Don't you have to close or something?"
"Bryce can handle it without me. Wait here." She ran into the back, grabbed her purse, and told Bryce she was cutting out early. She didn't wait for a response.
No way she was going to give the man of her dreams a chance to change his mind.
* * *
That decision to get coffee with Ken was the best decision Amy ever made.
It turned out that not only was Ken gorgeous (although she eventually realized that a lot of his attraction was in the eye of the beholder, because not everyone stopped breathing around him the same way she did), but he was also funny and smart and kind and full of crazy stories about the trouble he and his three older brothers had gotten into growing up.
And he wanted three kids just like she did and to live in a small town somewhere with lots of land near mountains and a lake. And to spend his free time with his family like his dad had when he was growing up.
In other words, it turned out he was the perfect man for her. And Princess was the perfect puppy, too. (Once you got past that whole sneaking out of her collar and running off thing.)
For years after, as Ken and Amy raised their kids and watched those kids going on to have kids of their own, she'd laugh to think about how one crazy puppy had changed her entire life.
And every year on her wedding anniversary (Christmas Eve, of course) she'd write a check to a dog rescue organization in thanks.
Because you never knew how one small gesture might change someone's life for the better.
Puppy Love On the Road
Katie sighed as she sank down to the floor of the hotel room next to her golden retriever puppy, Gunner. Another long, weary day.
When would it end?
Gunner crawled onto her lap and started licking her face, his whole body wriggling and his tail lashing back and forth in excitement as he tried to reach her nose. Katie couldn’t help but laugh as she tried to fend him off. Leave it to a six-month-old puppy to break her bad mood.
“Enough, enough.” She fell back, still laughing, as she tried to escape his kiss attack, but he climbed over her, determined to keep going, his back left foot landing painfully in the center of her stomach.
“Ow, stop,” she laughed as she scrambled backwards, Gunner in hot pursuit, stumbling on his oversized paws.
Only one way to stop him when he was all wound up like this. She reached for the red bag of treats on the desk and shook it in front of his nose.
He froze, eyes riveted on the bag in her hands, little black nose twitching in excitement.
“Sit.”
He sat immediately.
“Good boy.” As she reached into the bag, his tail thumped in excitement and he scooched closer.
“Hey now. Stay.” She held a treat before him in her closed fist.
He stopped moving closer, but she could see in the way he was quivering just how much he wanted to lunge for the treat in her hand.
“Good boy,” she praised and offered him the small, brown treat. He scarfed it, not even bothering to chew and she laughed once more.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, boy.” She ruffled the fur on the top of his head as he crawled into her lap and snuggled against her chest.
She buried her face in his soft yellow fur and tried to forget the day, the week, the month she’d had.
How had things gone so wrong so fast?
A month ago she’d had the perfect life. After years of basically living on the road, she’d finally convinced her boss to let her stop traveling.
(It hadn’t been easy. She’d had to show him charts and graphs and beg and plead and assure him that she’d be just as effective working remotely as she was on-site. Honestly, in this day and age with Skype and phone calls and emails it wasn’t like most of her clients even wanted her to come visit in person anyway.)
Once he’d said yes, she’d bought a small yellow two-bedroom house with a white picket fence and a big yard with an apple tree in the center and started to fix it up in her spare time. Spare time she actually had for the first time in her adult life. No more nights wasted in hotel rooms that all had that same almost-smoked-in smell and overly loud air conditioning unit.
And when her friend’s sister’s co-worker’s dog had a litter of pups, she’d jumped at the chance to add Gunner to the mix. Honestly, who could resist those sweet brown eyes? She’d always wanted a pup, she just hadn’t been around enough for it to make sense before.
She’d converted the back porch into a home office and Gunner had spent his days playing in the yard or nestled next to her, one little puppy paw touching her foot at all times.
It was perfect.
She’d never been happier.
She should’ve known it was too good to last.
And it was.
Three months later, the company decided to restructure. Her boss was fired. Her workload doubled. And in no uncertain terms she was told to get back on the road and meet face-to-face with all her clients. Clients who were furious at the shoddy workmanship and delivery delays that came with all the corporate “streamlining”.
She’d wanted to quit. To tell them no. She was happy where she was.
But she couldn’t. She had a mortgage now. And no money saved to tide her over until she found a new job. Assuming she even could.
So she sucked it up.
But she did make one demand: let her bring Gunner along.
It was easy enough. Almost every La Quinta allowed dogs. The hardest part was finding a doggie daycare in each city to look after him while she was working. But better that than boarding him five or six days a week.
Or worse yet, giving him up.
She couldn’t give him up. He was all that was good in her life.
Fortunately, they’d agreed.
So now here she was in yet another La Quinta in yet another mid-size mid-American town with a headache the size of Texas and a puppy who loved and adored her, asking herself what on Earth she’d been thinking and trying to figure out some way, any way she could go back to that picture-perfect life she’d had.
Especially after today.
Clint, one of her nicest clients, had yelled at her. He’d stood six inches from her face, his cheeks beet red and eyes open so wide she thought they might pop out of his head, and screamed at the top of his lungs, spittle flying all over the place. She’d never seen him so much as raise his voice before today.
And what could she do? She had no control over when the plant shipped its orders or what materials they used. She’d said sorry, but sorry wasn’t good enough anymore. Clint didn’t want to be calmed down or appeased.
He wanted he
r to fix the problem.
But she couldn’t.
And it was just going to get worse. She hadn’t even tried to tell him about the new price list. Not after seeing how upset he was already.
By the time he was done she was shaking so badly she couldn’t even drive. She’d had to sit in her van for five minutes with her eyes shut telling herself over and over again that it would get better.
Too bad she didn’t believe it.
She snuggled Gunner closer. “At least I have you, bud.” He licked her nose and she smiled, grateful that at least one thing in her life was good.
* * *
At ten o’clock, Katie turned off the home and garden channel—the only one she’d watch with Gunner around, he got too agitated by normal television with its loud noises and angry people—and pulled out Gunner’s leash.
“Ready, bud? One last walk before bedtime?”
Gunner took the leash in his teeth and started to pull her towards the door.
She laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
They walked out the back entrance of the hotel and ran down a large sloping hillside as big as a soccer field. Gunner did his business and then turned to look at her, his big brown eyes pleading as he tried to shake himself loose of the leash.
She glanced around.
The hotel was off a quiet street with almost no traffic. And the field was huge.
Plus, not like Gunner was that fast. She could chase him down if she had to.
She bit her lip; he tugged at the leash again.
“Okay. But stay close.” She unhooked his leash.
He dashed off across the field as fast as his little puppy legs would take him.
She waited, barely able to breathe, certain he’d just keep going and she’d never be able to find him again, but knowing she couldn’t chase him or he’d never stop. Just as she was about to give up and go after him he turned around and charged at her. Laughing she dodged to the side and they started chasing back and forth around the field.