Life on the Leash

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Life on the Leash Page 23

by Victoria Schade


  “At least it’s not raining,” he said with a shrug. “Although seeing you wet might be a good thing.”

  Cora shook her head. “This is going to be a long night.”

  “Hope so,” he replied. The driver jumped out of the car and opened the door for them.

  “This is the classiest limo I’ve ever seen,” Cora said, not bothering to hide her wonder. “I bet no bachelorette party has ever set foot in this thing.”

  “Mercedes S600 Pullman. They call it the ‘dictator mobile,’ so we’re in good company.”

  Cora climbed into the cream-colored interior. “Wait a second, there are only four seats. You said there would be eight of us total.”

  “Yup, my crew is meeting us there, but we’ll probably all pile in here to get to the after party. I thought you and I could drive around town first and check out the lights.”

  Cora realized that Charlie’s buffer of friends weren’t going to be a buffer at all. He was already breaking the rules.

  He interrupted her thoughts, placing his hand on top of hers. “You look beautiful.”

  Cora turned to him. He was staring at her with barely concealed hunger.

  “Thank you. You do, too.”

  He laughed at her.

  “I mean, handsome. You look handsome.”

  “Do you realize that’s the first compliment you’ve ever paid me? I used to get jealous of Oliver because you complimented him all the time.”

  “I always complimented you on your performance!”

  “Oh, sure, you told me I could do a mean down-stay, but you never complimented me.”

  Cora was confused. “Well, that wouldn’t have been . . . appropriate. I mean, what would you have wanted me to say?”

  “That you were wildly attracted to me because I’m so devastatingly hot.”

  Cora rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, Madison would’ve loved that. Super professional.”

  “I seem to remember someone being exceedingly unprofessional in my bedroom a few weeks ago . . .”

  Cora blushed.

  “And hey, we’re done with training now, so the employee-employer boundaries no longer apply.” Charlie leaned toward her, and she caught her breath. “Sorry, but I can’t wait any longer. The hell with the pact.”

  Cora readied herself to meet his kiss, even though it didn’t feel right in the fading light of day, sitting behind a driver who was pretending not to watch in the rearview mirror. Their lips were inches apart when the car lurched to a stop. Charlie had to throw his hand on the seat in front of him to keep from falling.

  “Sorry about that,” the driver said over his shoulder. “The end of rush hour traffic. We’re going to be here for a bit.”

  Cora looked out the windshield and saw a line of brake lights snaking ahead of them, and then peered out her window to orient herself, only to realize that they were just three blocks from her apartment. On the sidewalk, just beyond the row of parked cars, she could see someone struggling with two large dogs.

  She looked closer at the filthy dogs and noticed that one of them was being walked on a knotted plastic garbage bag instead of a leash. The other had a belt fashioned into a makeshift leash. “Homeless guy with his dogs,” she said quietly. “I always feel so bad for them.”

  Charlie looked over her shoulder at the trio. “The dogs or the guy?”

  “All of them.” Cora watched the man struggle to hold on to the dogs. Most homeless people seemed to have a spiritual connection to their dogs, as if the rigors of living on the streets formed a bond stronger than any pampered pet dog could offer its owner. These dogs, though, seemed disconnected from this man, almost as if they were trying to water-ski away from him. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Maybe they weren’t his at all. Was she watching a dog abduction in progress?

  She turned her attention to the man. He was a short overweight African American man in a T-shirt with his jacket knotted around his waist. A red jacket.

  “That’s Joe!” Cora shrieked. She looked at Charlie. “Joe Elvis! I know him!” She started banging on the controls on the door handle, trying to open the window.

  “Joe,” she shouted out the window once she got it down. He turned in a half circle. “Over here, in the car!”

  “Hey girl, I been looking for you!” he called back, grinning widely, as if he wasn’t at all surprised to see her leaning out of the limo window. “Lookit at what I found.” He gestured to the dogs. “I don’t know where they live. They ran away during that storm, I think.” The two dogs dragged him toward the limo.

  Cora couldn’t tell where the mud stopped and the dogs began, but she knew the lean pair were pointers of some sort. Then it hit her.

  She was looking at Blade and Hunter Feretti.

  Weeks had passed since she’d been at their house, but there was no mistaking them. German shorthaired pointers weren’t common DC dogs, and two of them in the same household were rarer still. The dogs radiated the same frantic energy she had picked up on when she met them, but now terror had entered the mix. They were far from home.

  Hunter edged toward the car and strained at the end of his leash. Joe was having a hard time handling both dogs, and Hunter’s filthy front paws were just inches from the door.

  “Whoa, watch the car!” Charlie shouted at Joe.

  Joe ignored him. “Can you help me, girl? My aunt won’t let me have dogs in the house, and I don’t know what to tell these boys. They look real scared.”

  Cora answered before she thought it through. “Yes, yes, of course I will.”

  Charlie pulled his phone from his pocket. “I can fix this quickly, and we can get going; we don’t have time to mess around tonight. I’ll call my guy at Animal Control.”

  “No!” Cora shouted too abruptly, and Charlie looked up from his phone as if her tone had offended him. She softened her approach. “I have a contact, too, but give me a second.” She didn’t want to get anyone else involved.

  “Sorry, but we’ve got to move,” the driver said, gesturing to the open road in front of him.

  “Can you just pull over for a sec?” Cora asked.

  Charlie looked at his phone. “Cora, we need to roll, we’re already behind schedule.”

  “I know, I know, but I don’t want to leave Joe on his own.” Joe stood in the street a few feet from the gleaming car with the dogs pacing and panting nervously. She looked at the driver. “Just for a second, sir.”

  He edged his way to an open space near a hydrant, and Charlie sighed in frustration. “What can you possibly do to help, Cora? The smartest thing to do is get AC to take over. They come meet this guy, scan the dogs for ID chips, and get them back to their owners. Happy endings for all.”

  Cora sat in silence, contemplating her next move. These weren’t just any lost dogs, these were the Feretti dogs. Turning them over to Animal Control would indeed bring them home—no doubt they were chipped—but that would make it a hero-less reunion. Cora knew that Joe would never feel comfortable being associated with their rescue, so that left the position open. If she could get in touch with Dalton Feretti through Mia and Vaughn and hand the dogs off to him in person, it would add a new dimension to her audition. She would no longer be just Cora the dog trainer, she would be Cora the savior of Blade and Hunter.

  She turned to Charlie. “You know what? Let me just help Joe get these guys settled, and I’ll take a cab to the gala. I’ll be thirty minutes late tops, before the cocktail hour is over, I promise.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he snapped, the smile on his face at odds with his tone of voice. “Cora, it’s starting to rain again, you’re going to get soaked. And those dogs are filthy. Why can’t you hand them off? You don’t have to be, like, the personal savior of all animals, you know.”

  “That sounds kind of weird coming from you,” she replied curtly.

  “No, what you’re doing is weird. It makes no sense.” He leaned back in the seat and crossed his arms.

  Cora couldn’t believe how
Charlie was acting. “I’m sorry, I just have to do this. Joe is my friend and he needs help. The dogs need help. It’s barely sprinkling, I’ll grab one of the umbrellas and take care of these guys super quick.”

  He shook his head again, as if he was worried that his perfect arm piece might be muddy and ruined by the time she got to the gala. “This is insane. But do what you have to do. Whatever.”

  “I’ll be there before you know it. Promise.”

  Cora climbed out of the car, and Blade and Hunter launched themselves at her.

  “Whoa, boys, be careful!” Joe admonished, pulling them away so that they couldn’t jump on her.

  “I’ll see you in a bit. I’ll text you when I’m on my way,” she said to Charlie through the open window. He nodded but didn’t say anything, pouting like a little boy who hadn’t gotten his way. The car eased back onto the road just as the sprinkle of rain turned steady. Cora sprinted behind it in her delicate heels.

  “Umbrella!” she shouted after it as it pulled away, waving her hands. “Can I get an umbrella?” She saw Charlie’s shadow shift in the backseat and the car pause in the middle of the street, but then continue on.

  “Well, there you have it. I guess we better walk quickly,” she said to Joe as the rain picked up, trying not to think about Charlie.

  “I always do,” he said with a smile as he struggled to hold on to the dogs.

  “Let me take one of them.”

  “This boy is more chill, he won’t get your dress all dirty,” he said, pointing to the dog on the belt leash that Cora could now identify as Hunter. Joe looked at Cora out of the corner of his eye. “You look real pretty tonight, girl.”

  “Thanks, Joe. Not for long if this rain keeps up.” Cora was trying to process what had just happened with Charlie and figure out what to do with the dogs, all while attempting to keep dry. The rain subdued Hunter and Blade, and though they walked at the very end of their makeshift leashes, they weren’t uncontrollable.

  Joe untied his red windbreaker with one hand and held it out to her. “Put this on your head like the church ladies do.”

  “Thank you, Joe.” She stopped and tied the sleeves under her chin so that she looked like “Little Edie” Beale.

  “Yup, you look pretty in everything.”

  They moved down the sidewalk in silence, each concentrating on the dogs in front of them.

  “Where are we taking these boys?”

  “My place.”

  “What about taking them to the adoption place, like your boyfriend said?”

  “Nope, I have a better idea.”

  Cora was thankful for the empty sidewalks. The four of them were an Instagram-worthy spectacle, and Cora didn’t feel like answering questions about why she was walking mud-covered dogs in an evening gown with a dirty windbreaker tied around her head. Plus it meant fewer witnesses for whatever she decided to do.

  “Here we are,” she said, stopping in front of her building.

  “Okey doke, here ya go,” Joe said, handing the trash bag leash to Cora.

  “Wait, don’t you want to come up?” Cora wasn’t sure if she’d be able to navigate the dogs up the stairs in her heels and dress.

  “I have to get home now. Can I have my jacket, please? Bye, boys, see you later!” He turned and walked swiftly away as soon as Cora handed him his windbreaker, seemingly uncomfortable breaching their sidewalk-only relationship.

  She led the dogs up the stairs and down the narrow hallway, wondering how she was going to manage four dogs in the apartment and remain clean. The golden foil woven throughout her dress provided excellent wicking from the rain, and though she was damp, she hoped that her look was still recoverable. If a fight broke out between her dogs and Blade and Hunter, however, there was no way she’d be able to police it in her gown and heels without getting filthy. Plus, Maggie and Darnell had left for dinner, so she was on her own.

  Cora peered up and down the hallway and knew she had no choice. She laced the dogs’ makeshift leashes around her neighbor’s doorknob and quickly kicked off her heels and stripped off the dress, praying that there would be a traffic lull on their typically busy floor. She ran a few feet down the hall in her strapless bra and tiny thong, holding the dress up in the air with one hand and shielding her naked backside with the other. She stood on her tiptoes and hung it from the exit sign by the stairwell, then ran back to the two puzzled dogs.

  “This is going to be interesting,” she said to them, quietly putting her key in the lock and ignoring the fact that she was once again exposing her butt to the world. She opened the door and led them in cautiously, hoping that she could race them to the bathroom and close them in before Fritz and Josie roused.

  Fritz popped his head out of the family room right as they made it to the bathroom door. “Hi boy, no worries. Just stay right there,” she said soothingly. Blade and Hunter spotted Fritz and gave a few tentative whisper barks, as if testing their voices, then launched into a ferocious display. Fritz backed away silently.

  “In we go!” Cora sang to them, clinging to the uncomfortable leashes and aware that her response could impact their reactions. The dogs spread their legs and held their ground in front of the bathroom door, raising a terrifying ruckus Cora was sure her neighbors could hear.

  The noise summoned Josie, and she jumped in front of Fritz and barked back at them, as if guarding her tired older brother.

  “In we go! In we go!” Cora chanted in a chipper voice over the uproar as she struggled to lead the straining dogs through the bathroom door. She didn’t know what they were capable of and needed everyone to remain safe. But they dug their claws into the floor and resisted every inch of progress.

  She finally got them in and slammed the door behind her. They left muddy footprints and body smears everywhere, even on Cora’s legs. She could hear Fritz and Josie inhaling at the seam in the door, trying to assess the interlopers.

  “You boys have got me sweating,” she said to them as they examined the tiny bathroom, their fury trumped by the allure of new smells. She peered in the mirror. Her rain-smeared smoky eyes now made her look like she’d just woken up after a bender, and the smooth waves Darnell had coaxed from her hair were lost in a mass of frizzy ringlets beneath the unraveling fishtail braid. “Oh no. I think I’m unrecoverable.”

  She sat down on the edge of the tub, the porcelain cooling her naked butt as she watched the dogs survey the room. Blade, the more skittish of the two, made his way over to where Cora sat and wagged his stumpy tail at her, the plastic bag still coiled around his collar. She reached out to pet him and he took a half step away, tail still wagging. He wanted her to connect but didn’t have the confidence to allow her to do so. Hunter pushed in front of his brother and placed his head on Cora’s bare legs. She stroked his crusty fur and ignored the dirty stripes he painted on her thighs.

  “You two could be my golden tickets,” she said to them.

  She needed to call Mia—with her help, the handoff would be easy to arrange. She would do her best to fix her makeup and hair and change back into her dress. Wouldn’t the story be that much better if she laughingly told Dalton Feretti that she was on her way to an ALPF gala when she discovered the dogs? It would be fine for her to have less-than-perfect hair and makeup, as that would underscore her narrative of being the dogs’ guardian angel during the storm. Her heart thudded in her chest as she ran through the scenario.

  Nervous, Blade settled down in the narrow area in between the vanity and where Cora sat on the edge of the tub, his head resting on top of her toes. Hunter plopped into a sit beside her and pawed at her to get her to pet him. Despite the stress of the situation, or perhaps because of it, both dogs were glued to Cora in their own way. She wondered how often they were able to just be with a person, in silent and companionable meditation, as they were now. How often did someone trace the edges of their soft ears or rub their muscular shoulders?

  “Let’s get this thing off,” she said as she started unwinding the belt wr
apped around Hunter’s collar. She stopped abruptly when her fingers hit plastic. There, beneath the coiled leather, sat a little black plastic box resting on his throat.

  The shock collar.

  Hunter wiggled his rear end and panted with his face pointing to the ceiling, almost as if he wanted her to examine it. Cora reached toward him slowly.

  “Ou, chouchou. I’m so sorry. She hurt you, didn’t she?” Hunter flinched as she put her hand on the collar and lowered his head toward the ground as she removed it. Cora inspected the area beneath where the box had sat. Hunter’s fur was patchy, and the skin beneath was an angry red. Tears filled her eyes, and she spent a few minutes stroking Hunter, trying to make up for all the wrong that had been done to him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

  She turned her attention to Blade. “Mon loup? Please let me get it off of you. Please?”

  Cora eased off the edge of the tub and sat cross-legged on the ground next to Blade, who opened one eye and peered at her but didn’t move away. She reached for him slowly, whispering nonsense baby words. When her hand finally made contact with the buckle on the collar, he jumped up and sprinted behind the toilet. He knew exactly what the collar represented.

  Pain.

  She sat on the floor, leaning against the tub, hugging her legs to her chest. She knew better than to chase after Blade. It would take time and trust before she could remove his collar, even though it could no longer shock him, because he didn’t know it. She pulled one of Maggie’s expensive towels off the rack and used it to cover herself, her near nakedness becoming uncomfortable as Hunter tried to drape himself across her legs. Blade watched her from his hiding spot next to the toilet. It seemed like he wanted to get closer, but her breach of reaching for his collar had derailed their burgeoning bond.

  Cora envisioned handing them over to Dalton and Simone. Would they notice that they weren’t wearing their shock collars? Would Blade duck his head when Simone reached for him? Would Hunter resist going back out to the yard?

  She knew that returning them was the right thing to do from an ethical perspective—they did in fact belong to the Feretti family. She also knew that returning them would be an incomparable coup from a business perspective—how could they not want her to host the show after her act of heroism? Bringing Hunter and Blade back was the right thing to do, but seeing the scope of their suffering, both physical and mental, made it feel like anything but.

 

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