by Maggie Marr
“I can fix that!” Tessa dipped her hand into a cardboard box next to the exam table and plucked out two latex gloves. “Put these on. It’ll get rid of the smell from your hands.”
Sophia’s lips tightened and the emotion in her eyes flattened out. “This is what my life has become? Eating power bars in a vet clinic because I accidentally hit a dog with my car?” She pulled one glove onto each hand and reached out toward Angie.
“Not because you hit the dog.” Angie said. “Because you drove away. Shows an absence of compassion. A character flaw.” Angie held out the power bar but then released it into Sophia’s hand.
“You don’t like me much,” Sophia said. “Have you always been mean to pretty girls? Or is it something new?”
I jerked my head back. Where was the repentant woman who felt badly about using the C word to describe Angie? Now Sophia was picking a fight? My sister might be wheelchair bound, but I didn’t ever take her on. Angie was unable to walk, but she was mighty and fierce.
Angie rolled closer to the exam table. Sophia took a bite of the power bar. They eyed each other like two wary bitches ready to war.
“My dislike for you has nothing to do with the way you look. Girls like you? Beautiful? Entitled? You’re a dime a dozen in Los Angeles. My dislike for you has everything to do with how you treat people and animals. You’ve got a meanness in you, Sophia Legend, and if you weren’t related to one of my best friends there is no way I’d let you within three miles of Pawtown.” Angie eyed the power bar that Sophia held in her hand. “And, by the way, thank you, thank you are the words you’re looking for.”
Sophia’s face remained hard but something broke in her eyes, as though Angie had reached through and plucked at Sophia’s heart.
“Thank you,” Sophia said.
“Come to my office once you’re finished here.”
I followed Angie out of the clinic and into the sunlight.
“Damn.”
Angie turned her wheelchair toward me. “She’s scared.”
“Scared? Of what? She’s like an anaconda. What’s she got to be scared about?’
Angie shook her head from side to side. “I don’t know, but she’s putting up a front because she’s scared of something and I intend to find out what. I’m cooking tonight. Tofu piccata. Come by around six. I’m asking Sophia to come too.”
“Wow, Miss Mean has decided to lighten up on the model.”
“I don’t pick on people who are afraid. You know that. There’s something going on with her. I’m going to give her a little benefit of the doubt. Besides, she did a bang-up job cleaning kennels. Never once complained. I figure passing out qualifies as enough penance.”
Angie started to roll across the walkway toward her office in the administration building. “Besides,” she called. “I’m not the one with the problem when it comes to Sophia.” She spun her chair around in a near wheelie. “Don’t think for a minute we didn’t all see how attracted you are to little Miss Runway in there.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied. I forced my face to remain flat with no expression. I had been an actor, I could pull this off.
“Ha! Nice try, buddy. I taught you that facial expression. Not buying what you’re trying to sell. Just watch yourself, baby brother. A girl like that is your weakness. Beautiful and scared. You could get yourself into all kinds of trouble.” Angie spun her chair around and wheeled toward her office
My heart thudded in my chest. My big sister knew me too damn well.
Chapter 10
Sophia
The afternoon was better than my morning had been. No pee, no poop, and no passing out. Angie’s office I could handle. The place was cramped and small and horribly decorated … which meant it wasn’t decorated aside from hundreds of pictures of animals getting their forever homes. Plus two cat trees. One in front of each window in her office. Cats I could handle. Cats I could pet. I walked over and stroked a good-looking fella with grey and black stripes.
“So you do like animals. Just not dogs.” Angie wheeled into her office. Beside her a black and brown dog sat when she stopped her wheelchair. Angie closed her office door. “This is Delilah, she’s part of my pack. She’s well trained and she likes people.” Angie looked straight into my eyes. “She won’t hurt you.”
My heart thumped against my ribs. That was not nearly enough reassurance for me. A muzzle on that dog’s snout wasn’t enough reassurance for me. My gaze bounced from Delilah to Angie. Did she know? Had she figured out my secret? I’d hidden my fear pretty well. Until today. But I didn’t pass out because of Austin. I passed out because I hadn’t eaten in days and I’d been working my ass off.
“How long have you been afraid of dogs?”
“I’m not afraid of dogs.” My gaze trailed from Angie to Delilah. She ambled across the office and settled into a big lump on the dog bed. No matter how sweet or gentle or well trained Delilah appeared to be, she still had teeth, like every dog. Big, long, sharp, teeth that hurt when they sank into your flesh. “I just don’t like dogs.” I tilted my head and glanced toward the cat tree filled with felines. “I prefer cats.”
“Really? So you don’t mind if I open up the door and let in the other five dogs that normally spend their afternoons in here?” She spun her chair and reached for the doorknob.
My heart ka-thwapped. “Please don’t.” I backed away from the door and bumped into a chair. Five more dogs? In here? The office was barely big enough for me and the beast snoozing beside Angie’s desk. Put another five dogs in this room and I’d be perched on top of the cat tree.
“Okay,” I said. I scraped a broken nail over at what was left of my manicure. “I don’t like dogs.” My gaze bounced from Angie to the wall of happy people hugging their new pets. “And”—a big breath filled my lungs. Damn, this was hard to admit—“and I’m afraid of them.” I met Angie’s gaze. “But there are a lot of people who don’t like dogs.”
“Right.” Angie rolled to her desk. “But people who dislike dogs don’t usually agree to do a reality show at a dog shelter.”
“No, they don’t,” I admitted. Nor did most people’s approval rating plummet from the highest of highs to those reserved for Justin Bieber. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. I’d gone from a Twitter account with a million followers to death threats because I’d accidentally hit a dog with my car. A satisfied groan escaped Delilah, who was curled up beside Angie’s desk.
Angie looked at me. “She always let’s out a little moan just before she settles in for a nap.” She leaned forward and stroked the top of the dog’s head. It was obvious Angie really loved that dog. Affection shone from her eyes.
“Not liking dogs doesn’t make me a bad person,” I said.
Angie pulled her gaze from her pup and refocused on me. Her eyebrows crinkled. “Of course not, but not liking dogs, running over a dog, and then faking that you like dogs to be the star of a reality show does call your integrity into question.”
My fingers curled and my ragged nails pressed into my palms. “How do you get off saying something like that to me?”
“You mean the truth?” A giant smile split Angie’s face. “Sophia, haven’t you figured it out? I have nothing to lose.” She waved her hand toward her lap. “I nearly lost everything five years ago. Now, I’m free. I can say whatever my truth is to whomever I want and if they don’t like it”—She lifted her shoulders and tilted her head to the side—“well, then, there’s the door.”
Her voice was calm, with no hints of meanness or attitude. No, her tone simply conveyed a truth, an honesty, a realness that I didn’t experience in L.A. I could deal with this woman. I could respect her. Who knew? I might even begin to like her.
“I’m sorry for what I said at the fundraiser.” The words flew from my mouth. I was sorry, and not just for my own self-interest, but because the person I’d been that day was me at my worst. I had said and done the worst possible things and I needed to ap
ologize.
Angie’s jaw dropped open. She quickly looked away from me and reached for a folder on the far corner of her desk. She waved a hand toward me.
“Forget about it. I have.”
Had she? I knew I wouldn’t if I were her. I’d said a horribly mean word that obviously didn’t describe this woman at all. I’d been brushing the bottom of my own personal barrel when I’d let loose the word “cripple.”
Angie met my gaze and I sensed that she appreciated my apology, but she wouldn’t or couldn’t give me the satisfaction of knowing that first, I’d hurt her, and second, that my apology had taken the sting from my unforgivable words.
“Look.” She took a long deep breath. “What I want is for Pawtown to survive and to thrive. The best way to get there is for this reality show to be a success. I’ve got you, a model, who we’re supposed to rehabilitate in public by basing a show about shelter dogs around you. Now I find out that the woman who is supposed to be the star of the show is afraid of dogs? It’s kind of messed up. Just how long did you think you’d keep this a secret?”
“Until the show was over?”
“Ha! You’re not that good an actress.” She looked askance at me. “Are you?” She rolled to her desk.
The corner of my mouth ticked upward. I wasn’t an actress at all. Not yet. I was still working on being a pretty face with a great body and a runway career. “I have some pretty good DNA when it comes to acting.”
“I’ll give you that one.” She placed her elbow on her desk and rested her chin on her fist. “I think there’s a way to make this show even more compelling than we originally pitched.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fear.”
My stomach twisted.
“Everyone is afraid of something and everyone has to confront at least one of their fears during their lifetime.” Angie pointed a finger at me. “Watching you confront your fear of dogs? On TV? That would make for an amazing show. Plus it’ll skyrocket your approval rating right back to where you and Choo want it.”
My stomach lurched. Riiight. While the words Angie said might be true, my throat tightened and I feared I might vomit. My biggest fear revealed on national TV for the entire world to view? To consume. To know and possibly make fun of? Me cringing and cowering and maybe even crying. My God, what had I been thinking? My gaze darted toward Angie’s office and all the pictures of the dogs.
I wasn’t just afraid of dogs, I was terrified of them.
Why was I here? Suddenly breathing was not something I remembered how to do.
Angie rolled from her desk and toward me. “Long slow breaths. It’s anxiety.” She stopped beside me and put her arm on my shoulder. “In—” she inhaled all the while her eyes locked with mine—“out.” I did as I was told and mimicked the slow rise and fall of her chest. The soothing rhythm. Her smile. Her warm eyes. Her nodding to me that, yes, I could remember how to breathe.
“That’s it. Breathe. Just breathe. Everything else will take care of itself.”
Trick
“How’s our girl doing?” I walked across the indoor training ring at Pawtown, my boots sliding through the sand that lined the floor.
“She was doing real good for a while, but today?” Luis glanced over toward Rose. “It’s two steps forward, one step back. I was just about to take her to the kennel. We’ve been working for about an hour and I’d say she’s had about as much of me as she can handle for today.” Luis wore a heavy-duty pad over both his arms. This was the first step.
For the first two weeks there was no guarantee that Rose or her brothers wouldn’t forget about the good treatment they were getting now at Pawtown and regress. Rehabilitating an abused dog took lots of time and patience. Luis had to build enough positive memories and trust with Rose to overcome what she’d experienced from humans for her entire life. Rose sat a few feet from me in the dusty ring. She panted. She was on a long lead. Her gaze locked with mine, but she made no attempt to come near me or to look away. Her body language indicated that she was, as Luis had said, done for today. But she didn’t growl or raise her lip.
“You think she’d let me get close?”
Luis shook his head. “I don’t know, man. Now isn’t the optimal time to try. She’s tired and probably hungry.”
I nodded. Timing was always a big part of the battle early on with the red-collar dogs. “Text me when you’re getting ready to work with her tomorrow. I’d like to come by and watch. See if we can’t develop a rapport.”
“You always did like the tough ones, man.”
Luis’s statement applied to just about every female in my life.
“How’s that new volunteer doing?” Luis asked. “She passed out today?”
“Sophia? Yeah. Angie was working her too hard.”
“I can see why, heard she called your sister a crip. Damn, man, that volunteer got a death wish? I’m surprised Angie didn’t assign her to scrub red-collar kennels with a t-bone strapped to her back.”
A laugh burst over my lips. “That’s too cruel even for Angie.”
“I know man, but that word? Angie is a lot of things but I don’t ever think of her as a cripple. Strong. Brilliant …” Red flushed up Luis’s face and he stopped talking, as though he had other words he wanted to say about Angie but suddenly remembered he was talking to me, Angie’s brother. He walked toward Rose. “Come on, girl. Let’s head home.” Rose trotted toward Luis. She sat at his feet and looked like the best-behaved little lady you’d ever seen.
I looked at Luis. “Wonders never cease.”
“Don’t let her fool you. She’ll still jump up and rip out your throat. She’ll wait until you’re relaxed. Makes it easier that way.” Luis pulled the leash closer to his side. “What’s so tough about Rose is that she’s smart and a bit conniving. We gotta know for certain we’ve gotten the mean out of her. You know? Can’t just trust it with this one. Have to know it in here.” He tapped his fist to his heart.
Together they walked toward the door. Rose was a beautiful dog with an easy gait. Sad that people had damaged her so deeply, just so that they could watch her kill other dogs. That was messed up. A whole lot of things in this crazy world were messed up. My phone rang and I slipped it from my pocket. A smile slid over my face.
“Hey, Dillon,” I said. “What’s up?”
Chapter 11
Trick
After a long day I showered and finished feeding my pack. I hiked across Pawtown over to Angie’s house. After my conversation with Dillon about the Pawtown reality series, I wanted to talk to Angie. Her place was lit up. The bright-white outdoor yard lights that she’d strung over the long wooden table in the backyard were on. Angie’s place was usually the spot for Pawtown staff parties and late nights. Not the kind of parties that compared to my pre-Pawtown life in Los Angeles, but definitely a good time with some good friends. I pulled open the front door. My stomach grumbled. Her meals were always better than the frozen pizzas and entrees in plastic trays that I dined on in front of my TV.
“Hey Angie!” My voice rang through the house. The response was … silence? Strange. Angie’s pack didn’t come running to the door. No tippity tappity of doggy paws on wood floors, no barks, no slurpy tongues over my hand. Not even Angie yelling at me to take off my shoes. “Anyone here?” I circled the kitchen. Voices trailed in through the open back door. I headed through the kitchen and out to the backyard. On the patio Angie was in her chair and Sophia sat beside her. In the yard all four of Angie’s pups were lined up. Prim and proper and on their very best behavior.
What the hell was going on? I leaned against the doorjamb. Everyone, including the dogs, continued as though they had no idea I’d arrived.
“Finster won’t hurt a fly.” Angie said. “Finster, come.” The scrubby looking terrier that probably had some beagle in his pedigree stood up and slowly, with his tail wagging, ambled toward Angie. “Sit.” Finster did as he was command
ed. Angie kept an obedient and well-trained pack. The wagging tails and barks might look like chaos when someone walked through the front door, but when Angie said “sit” every one of her pets dropped their asses to the floor. “Finster, be gentle,” Angie said. She leaned in real close and rubbed her nose against Finster’s snout. It looked like he nodded and smiled. Angie jerked her head toward Sophia. Finster walked to Sophia and sat about a foot from her.
Sophia’s body tightened and her eyes widened. She pulled her fingertips down her neck and eyed Finster. “What do I do?”
“Put your hand out flat, palm up, with that doggie treat on it, and then he’ll take it from you.”
Sophia’s eyes widened. “With his teeth?”
“He’ll probably use his tongue. He won’t bite you. You don’t taste as good as the kibble.”
Sophia attempted a smile, but it didn’t take. Her lips curved up, but fear still inhabited her eyes. Finster cocked his head to the side. Charlie, another one of Angie’s pups, who sat in the yard, whined. He’d spotted me and his tail thumped against the grass.
“Charlie, hush.” The whining stopped. If Angie realized that I was here, she didn’t let on. She was completely focused on Sophia and Finster.
Wait? What the hell? Why all the formalities? This kind of introduction only happened when … My jaw dropped open. No? No way.
I rubbed my hand over the scrub on my chin. Angie’d been right. Sophia was afraid of dogs. Fear explained every bit of Sophia’s behavior at the Pawtown event in L.A. and her anxiety attack around Austin today. Plus, I’d be willing to bet it had something to do with her passing out today.
“Okay.” A deep breath rattled through her chest and her hands were curled into fists in front of her body. “I can do this. I know I can.”
She set her jaw, opened her fingers, and flattened out her hand. Slowly she stretched her hand toward Finster. She pulled back her head and squinted her eyes as though preparing for Finster to gobble her fingers. Finster looked at Angie and Angie nodded. He stuck his nose toward Sophia’s palm and swiped his tongue across her skin and grabbed the kibble.