by Traci Hall
“That seems harsh.” Martin crossed his arms.
“I guess there’s some paperwork I have to sign, so I’m going to do that now. Courtney said she’d do her best to get word out, too. But I’m thinking we need flyers and a radio ad, anything to get people to spend their money with us next weekend.”
“Got it. The jars will be here tomorrow for the treats. Your mom and I were talking, and what do you think about a hand-painted stencil for the Happy Treats?”
Sarah nodded. “Sounds great. We can paint at the office.”
“Different colors for different flavors? Keep it visual.”
“Thank you, Martin. Yes. I like it.” She pressed her hand to her stomach, nervous because so much relied on selling a product she hadn’t even baked yet.
He came around the counter in her kitchen and gave her a hug. “You can do this. We can help.”
“I count on you more than you realize, Martin.”
“What are friends for? Do you mind dropping me back at the office, so I can get my car?”
“No problem.”
Thirty minutes later, Sarah arrived at Courtney’s office. “All right, Courtney. Where do I sign?”
Courtney got up from behind her desk. In slacks and a floral blouse, she was the epitome of professional. “Here. Listen, I made up some flyers, just simple ones, but I thought you could pass them out downtown? I’ll hang one up in the foyer and have a stack on the counter.”
Sarah’s eyes welled. She and Courtney had been friends since grade school. They knew this town, they knew the community. “I should have started this sooner. We’ve been busy, though, and I just thought the money would come in faster. But every time it came in, it went out—somewhere else.” I really wanted to do it myself.
Courtney put her hand on Sarah’s shoulder and squeezed. “I understand. Businesses take time to get up and running. I don’t want you to go anywhere.” She handed over a stack of flyers. “The city will put together a gift basket. Make sure you get donations, okay? Now go! We only have a week to pull this off. I know you wanted a formal dinner but talk about impossible. Next time, don’t wait so long to ask for help, all right?”
Her independence was kicking her in the ass.
Sarah started at the pier and worked her way up Commercial Boulevard, saying hello to old friends as well as new ones. She stopped at Ambrosia and ordered a pecan nutty bun and a mango iced tea. So far, everybody she’d talked to had been happy to donate.
“How’s business, Celia?”
Celia Langford was relatively new to the area and, like Sarah, had opened her own business. Organic food and delicious teas instead of unwanted pets, but still, the bottom line was the bottom line.
A cool blonde, Celia slid a napkin across the counter and smiled. “Good. I love it here.” There’d been an issue with the town’s owner, Randall Wallace, but she’d prevailed. Sarah admired her resilience a great deal and hoped to follow suit.
“How’s Dax?”
Celia and Dax Smith, owner of the local dive shop, had fallen head over heels for one another. Love at first bite. Sarah had known Dax and his family all her life and was glad to see him happy.
“He’s getting better. It was tough for a while, with his dad dying.”
“Dave was a good guy,” Sarah said. “I saw Darcy hanging out at the beach. Is she sticking around?”
Celia shrugged, her eyes warming with concern. “I don’t know. She’s taking it really hard.”
“If there is anything I can do, just let me know.” She sipped the refreshing fruity tea and looked around the shop. Customers filled the tables both inside and out.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to pass the message along.”
“So, how would you like to donate to my upcoming fundraiser? Or better yet, get into a bikini and wash some cars? You’d stop traffic.”
“Causing an accident is not my idea of a good time,” Celia laughed, poking fun at herself as she patted her hips. “But I will gladly donate a few meals for the cause. What cause are we talking about?”
“I need a new roof.”
“Ah.”
“Within the next two weeks. The fundraiser will be Saturday. Tell everybody you know, okay?”
Celia blew out a breath, her eyes wide. “That is cutting it close.”
“I know.” Sarah finished the last of her nutty bun. “I’m working on my time management skills.”
Laughing, Celia took her empty dish and tapped the counter. “Good luck.”
Next, Sarah went down the opposite side of the street, starting with the Greek restaurant. Before she realized it, she stood in front of the pet store.
Puppies dozed in the window front, each cubicle clean with a water bottle and a toy or blanket. A white and tan Shitzu blinked, shiny black eyes rolling back in its head as it went back to sleep. In the next cubicle was a Beagle mix, with long ears and brindle coloring. Adorable.
Should she go inside? She didn’t want Franco’s help, but she needed that new roof. They’d made love and that changed everything.
Pride is an ugly thing, Sarah, she told herself as she walked by the front door without going inside.
“Sarah!”
She immediately recognized Bella’s joyful voice and turned to look in the shop. Bella stood next to a plump woman with glasses and a smile that slipped as she recognized Sarah without the Pet Rescue uniform.
“Hi, Bella.”
The little girl skipped to the sidewalk. “I’ll be right here, Myra,” Bella called out, taking Sarah’s free hand. “What do you have, Sarah?”
“Just some flyers.”
“What for?”
“The fundraiser for Pet Rescue.”
“I want to come. Isn’t Daddy going to cook?”
No. She couldn’t be around Franco and focus on what needed to be done for her business. “I don’t think so. But you are certainly welcome to come and get your car washed.”
The enormity of what she needed to put together made her stumble and she quickly balanced herself against the building.
“Are you all right, Sarah?”
Looking up, she saw that Franco’s eyes were filled with concern. His husky tones sent shivers down her spine, in a way her body remembered well. She pulled away. It was fitting that he see her hot, flushed and overwhelmed. She was never at her best around him. “I’m fine.”
“Can I get you a bottle of water? Come inside, where it’s air conditioned. What are you passing out?”
He pulled her into the shop, her skin tingling where his fingers held hers. Glitter and glitz made her blink against the bling. Designer poochie carriers to rhinestone studded strollers, Franco had something for everybody.
He wasn’t acting any differently toward her. She needed to buck up and do the same. “You’ve added to the inventory since I was in last.”
Myra glared at her from the cash register. “We had just opened up, if I recall. When you gifted us with that stupid citation.”
Franco rested his hand against her lower back and cleared his throat. “We’ve moved on since then, Myra. And we no longer use cleaning products that might be harmful to the puppies, so everything worked out well.”
“Daddy, Sarah’s going to have a car wash.”
He scanned the flyer over her shoulder, then looked at her. “I’d be happy to cook. Whatever you need, Sarah.”
Her tongue was tied. Franco took the flyers from Sarah’s nerveless fingers. It was awful, terrible, that she wanted him. He was a dad, a business owner. An arrogant (but not really) Brazilian male. Rich. Gorgeous. Yes, arrogant, thinking he could buy happiness. My happiness.
Sarah crossed her arms at her waist. “If you could pass them out, I’d appreciate it. Martin is doing the barbecue. We’re talking hamburgers and hotdogs, not crab cakes with sauce.”
He frowned. “I don’t mind.”
“Martin will do it.”
Franco’s gaze cooled and he gave her a single nod. His touch left her back.
&
nbsp; She swallowed, sick to her stomach. She felt as if she was breaking something tenuous, which was ridiculous. They barely knew each other. But that wasn’t true, especially after today. They’d shared a magical day. This was reality.
He walked away from her and pointed to a partially empty shelf. “We’re waiting for your dog treats. We’ve got space as soon as you’ve got them ready.”
“You didn’t mention that she made them,” Myra said, taking off her glasses so she could glare at Sarah without anything in the way.
This time Franco didn’t come to her defense.
“Thank you.” She turned her back on his angry employee. “I appreciate that.” She had to sell enough to save her roof. Business. Practicality. No emotion. She exhaled.
“Since you don’t need me to cook, how else can I help? We would like to support our community.” Franco tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Right, Bella?”
Bella nodded, looking from Sarah to her dad as if sensing something wrong.
Sarah gritted her teeth. “Perhaps you’d like to donate something for our raffle?” If he said the roof, she’d scream.
“Definitely.” Franco stared at her, his expression unreadable. “A chi-poo puppy.”
“That’s too much.” She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling betrayed and confused. She hadn’t realized how bitter regret would taste.
“I want to. I told you.” He lowered his voice and held her eyes. “My money, my prerogative on how I spend it.”
“Right. Money buys everything.”
This was so not the place for this, yet she couldn’t help it.
Sarah’s vision blurred.“But not me.”
Franco winced.
She waved to Bella, called good-bye to Myra who obviously hated her, and left before she burst into tears.
Chapter Eighteen
Franco watched Sarah leave, her anger transcending any language barrier. Myra left her spot by the register and stood next to him.
“I think I’ve missed something?” she asked, her tone accusing. “Sleeping with the enemy?”
Franco sent his employee a warning look. “Myra.” He put his hand on Bella’s head. “Princess, will you see if you can find the box of dog brushes in the back?”
“Okay, Daddy!”
His daughter ran to the store room and Franco took Myra’s arm. “Listen. Sarah is not a bad woman. She is passionate about stopping illegal breeding practices. She stopped the mill operating out of this shop right before I bought it, and I can’t blame her for being vigilant. Her heart is in the right place.”
Myra scowled. “You like her. No, you really like her? Franco, be careful. She wanted to shut you down.”
“That was before…” He cleared his throat.
Myra’s eyes widened. “No. Tell me you didn’t actually sleep with the enemy?”
“She’s not the enemy!” Franco checked to make sure Bella was still in the back. “I care about her, Myra. But she won’t give me a chance.”
“Why?” Myra’s shoulders stiffened. “She’s an idiot. You’re terrific.”
“Thanks.” He shifted uncomfortably. “So, you heard her talk about the fundraiser she’s doing this weekend? It is for a new roof. Well, all I did was offer to pay for the roof being repaired, and she got very angry.”
Myra’s shoulders lowered and she sucked in her bottom lip. “Before or after, you know, you did the wild thing?”
“After.” He shrugged.
She looked him square in the face. “How soon after?”
“Right after. I didn’t realize how bad she needed it before, or I would have offered earlier!” Not that she would have accepted his help then, either. He bent his head toward Myra. “She had a problem, I gave her a solution. I don’t understand what went wrong.”
Myra sighed and shook her head. “You are such a man.”
“Yes, I am.” He crossed his arms over his slightly puffed out chest.
“Franco. I don’t know her—”
“Sarah. Her name is Sarah.”
“I don’t know Sarah like you do, but I’ve seen enough of her to realize she’s the kind of woman who wants to do things her way, by herself.” Myra fiddled with the dog shampoos on the shelf. “Stubborn, one might say.”
Franco nodded. “I like that she is independent. I want her to be independent with me. I can make her life better.”
“Right,” she said with a commiserating bob of her head. “But you can’t say it like that to her without setting off all kinds of alarms. I heard her say that you couldn’t buy her…”
His employee had excellent hearing if she got that over the barking puppies and influx of customers. “Sarah thinks that I use my money to get my way.” He shrugged. “Money is a tool. Why not use it for what I want?”
Myra held up her hand. “Excellent point. However, when it comes to women, and things of an emotional nature, money needs to be off the table.”
“I am not trying to buy her love. I offered to fix her roof.”
She slid her glasses back on her face. “Find out what is important to Sarah, besides the roof. Give her that.”
Franco pulled at his chin. What made Sarah tick? “She has to help unwanted animals. She champions the underdog, literally.”
“Why?”
He scowled, remembering the story Jennifer Murphy had shared with him. “Something happened when she was a little girl. She didn’t get to save the dog.”
Myra’s attitude softened a hair. “So that scared her? Kids take that stuff to heart.”
“She’s spent her adulthood making up for what she views as a failure when she was just a child.” Franco wondered if perhaps Sarah felt let down by the people in her life, and if that why she was so independent. “She takes care of things. By herself. But she doesn’t have to be alone. I want to be with her.”
Myra pointed at him with a red dog collar. “So you need to convince her that you are the type of man that can be a partner. Make her see that there is room for someone to stand at her side.”
Bella ran out of the store room with an armful of dog brushes. “I found them, Daddy. Where do you want me to put them?”
Franco breathed out his frustration. “Bottom shelf, please. Thank you.”
How to get Sarah to see his heart? “Excellent advice, Myra.” He snapped his fingers and scowled.
She grinned. “I never said it would be easy.”
*****
Franco didn’t call.
She didn’t call him, either.
Her days were crazy busy, but the first two nights were hell as she dissected every last nuance of their time together. I’m a grown woman, she told herself after another tear-soaked pillow and sleepless night, and I do not need anybody.
She’d replayed those last moments in her bed before he left, wishing things could have ended differently. Maybe she’d misunderstood when he said he’d wanted to take things slow, otherwise, why would he have looked hurt?
She’d tried to give him an easy way out. Offering to be just friends, and yet that seemed to piss him off.
Which had led to his telling her that he’d pay for her roof. Not to worry. He’d take care of it. I want you in my life. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.
Grr! Arrogant.
Paying for the roof, paying her off. Her stomach churned. She wasn’t a whore, to be bought and paid for.
She hoped deep inside he hadn’t meant it like that. What did she want from him? If he called her, and she answered, what would they say? It was safer to hide behind anger and hurt than step outside her comfort zone.
She went into the office Wednesday morning pleased to see the jars of treats stacked for display on the shelf by the front door. “Morning, Martin,” she called, waving at him in the kitchen by the coffee pot. “These turned out great.”
“The stencil was the perfect idea. Want a cup?”
“Sure.” Sarah eyed the jars critically. HAPPY TREATS stenciled in different colors along the side f
or different flavors of treats. Simple, but classic. “They don’t look cheap,” she muttered to the dogs at her feet.
Nashville meowed from the top of a stack of boxes by the front door. “What are these?” she asked, heading toward the smell of sanity in a mug.
“We already have an order for a hundred.”
“Who?” Sarah asked, hope soaring.
“de Silva’s Diamond Dogs.”
Hope crashed. Was she making a mistake? Did he think she couldn’t do this without his help? What if I can’t?
“I told Franco I’d drop them off.” Martin handed her a mug. “Since I wasn’t sure you wanted him here. Not that you’ve said anything,” he paused dramatically. “One way or the other.”
They hadn’t forced the issue. Tuesday morning, her mother asked about how the drive out west went and Sarah had burst into tears.
“I still don’t want to talk about it.” She brought the coffee to her nose and sniffed. “Thank you, for offering to deliver them.” She buried her confusion over her feelings for Franco in work, heading toward the desk and the computer. “I talked to a few of the boutique stores downtown and they want a couple dozen boxes each. Geez, only 1350 left to go.”
She blinked quickly and took a big sip of coffee. So much.
“Honey, I understand about heart break, but things were going so well. Dinner, snorkeling, driving out to look at the puppies...”
“There wasn’t ever a ‘thing’ between us. We are, were, just friends.” Sarah kept her line of defense high. Denial worked.
“Baloney. I saw you after he cooked you dinner. Sparks!”
“Attraction between two people doesn’t a relationship make,” Sarah drawled. “I’m busy, Martin. I’ve got to save this business, or we are all out on our asses. Including the new batch of kittens that came in yesterday. I don’t have time for day dreams.”
“Sarah, you have not asked my opinion, but I am going to tell you this for your own good. Life is too short, too precious, to hide behind doing good works.”
She whirled the office chair around and faced Martin. “Excuse me?”