“What do you mean?” I ask, resisting the urge to check my watch.
Precious minutes are passing by and with each one, I can feel my work pile growing larger and larger. At this rate, I probably won’t be out of the office until four in the morning only to return by seven. Maybe I should just sleep in the building if I can. The city streets aren’t the safest to be milling about in the twilight hours.
“Well, first of all, I never would’ve allowed you to just waltz your dog right into my house! What if he and Sadie and Lola hadn’t gotten along? What would you’ve done then?”
Again I see her point, but shrug anyway. “All right. Fair enough. That was an oversight on my part but look at them, they’re fine.”
Summer glances over her shoulder, lifting her brows just slightly at the ample distance between the dogs and the uncertain way they’re all regarding one another. She shakes her head and lets her arms fall so her hands rest stubbornly on her hips. My chest puffs reactively, meeting her defensive stance and readying myself for an argument. I don’t have a choice but to stand my ground for Rosco’s sake.
“Second of all,” Summer continues in her melodic but deliberate tone, “I don’t know anything about Rosco. I never offer to watch a dog in my own home until I have detailed reports of his health, last vet visit, and I’ve done an interview with both him and the owner.”
“Rosco goes to the vet on First Street. You can call for the records—”
“It’s almost eight o’clock at night, they’re not open! They won’t be open tomorrow either. I won’t be able to contact them until Monday.”
“I promise you he has zero health issues or allergies. Rosco is as healthy as a horse. I even brought some of his food if you want it. And why would you need to interview him? What the hell does that even mean? You know dogs can’t talk, right? Do you think you’re some kind of dog whisperer?”
“It’s not a real interview,” she explains with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just to make sure that he isn’t aggressive toward me. I would just pet him, get to know him a little, walk him around and see how he connects with me. And for the interview with you, it would just be about his habits and fears and background.”
“Rosco is afraid of most things, but he’s a good boy. He went through a lot before I adopted him, but he’s never so much as bared his teeth at anyone.” I glance at my watch, flinching at the hour. She’s right, it’s almost eight.
She appraises me silently, gnawing so hard on her plump lower lip that a red mark lingers for a moment before disappearing.
“Hear me out, Summer. I have to go to my office and Rosco is going to be stuck in my apartment all night and most of the day tomorrow. That’s not fair to him. I’m desperate here.”
In truth, I’d never leave Rosco alone that whole time. I’d stay with him and try to do what work I could from home, but there’s no way that I could maintain my same level of productivity in that case and I have an important meeting to prepare for.
She groans, head falling backwards to expose the length of her tan neck. She glares at the ceiling before shaking her head and running a hand through her damp hair. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but all right. I’ll make an exception just this once. Do you hear me? It’s only the one time. I’ll watch him until tomorrow, but after that you do things my way. Got it?”
My feet lurch, carrying me toward her. She’s smaller than I am, her head staying tilted back to meet my eyes. The scent of her shampoo is thick and fragrant in the air.
“You have no idea how grateful I am for this. You’ve saved my hide, Summer.”
“Don’t thank me yet, buddy,” she responds, though her voice cracks just slightly. She swallows hard, eyes following the line of my strong jaw. Something flickers in her gaze, the same thing that swells in my own core at just the sight of her curved, lithe body. “If Rosco doesn’t behave himself, I’m taking him right back to you and you’re on your own, got it?”
“Got it. But he’ll be fine. Mrs. Donnell said Rosco never gave her an ounce of trouble and she walked him all up and down the city. The only thing I should warn you about is that he’s a bit of a bed hog, and he does snore. Sometimes he has bad dreams, too.”
“Tonight he’ll have to sleep in a kennel. I keep an extra in case of emergencies. I don’t know him and neither do my dogs so I can’t risk having him wandering around my home alone all night. It’s mostly dog proofed, but you never know what they can find.”
“Sure, of course. I understand. He’ll do fine in a kennel. Back home, I keep one out for him to retreat to when he needs a little break.”
She nods jerkily, taking half a step back. Her spine bumps against her wall, making her stumble toward me again.
“Tonight will be fine,” she reiterates, “but you should check around for other arrangements in case things don’t work out here. Has Rosco ever really been around other dogs?”
“Not really,” I answer honestly. “But I’ve taken him to the dog park a few times and he’s enjoyed it. He has a lot of energy, though I guess you wouldn’t know it right now.”
I look back toward my dog, taking note of his rigid stature. He looks visibly uncomfortable, panting with nervousness.
“It’s because he doesn’t know me or this place and he can tell you’re going to leave him,” Summer says. “To a dog in this situation, every time you leave he’s going to wonder if you’re coming back to get him.”
She frowns at Rosco and I can all but see her heart melting in her chest. Good thing he’s so cute, or I might not have been able to convince her to do this favor for me.
“Thank you again for watching him tonight. Here’s all my info. I’ll be at the office all night and tomorrow. Give me a call if you have any questions about Rosco.”
With a nod, she takes my business card and gives it a once over, an eyebrow lifting. “Oh. CEO? This is that big new skyscraper, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” I respond, swelling with pride. I worked relentlessly to build a company deserving of such a building. “From the very top floor, everyone looks like ants.”
Instead of the usual admiration that lights people’s eyes when I talk about how successful my ventures have been, Summer regards me with uncertain condescension. Again, she proves how different she is. Again it catches me off guard. I feel my pride wither even before she speaks.
“You must work a lot,” she acknowledges simply.
“That’s right.”
She doesn’t say anything, but she looks at Rosco as though she’s trying to make a point. Irritation pulses though my veins, but I don’t argue with her. I do work a lot, but I also provide Rosco with a life filled with endless treats, toys, and food. When I have time, I lavish him with attention as well.
When I don’t react, she clears her throat. Without a word, she slides the business card into the pocket of her tiny shorts and gestures toward the door. It’s time to leave.
I turn around and bend down to Rosco’s level, welcoming him against me. He presses his forehead to my chest, his tail still stuck deep between his legs. He doesn’t whine, though his fearful silence might be even worse than a pleading sound. I know he doesn’t understand why I’m leaving, but I don’t have a choice.
“I’m coming back, boy,” I whisper in his ear, hoping that on some level he understands me. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll always come back. You’re my buddy. Summer is going to treat you right.”
His fur is smooth and soft under my hands as I rub his sides and then scratch his favorite place under his left ear. He lifts his head to gaze deeply into my eyes, as though he’s begging me not to leave.
“Who’s going to buy you that fancy food you like so much if I’m not making the big bucks?” I tease him gently.
I feel Summer’s eyes on me, suddenly remembering that I’m not alone with my best friend. I clear my throat and stand, noticing the previous condescension in her eyes is gone and replaced instead by faint understanding.
; “I’ll be going then,” I mutter stiffly.
She nods and walks me to the door, opening it. When I step out into the hall, I turn back around to face her. Rosco remains frozen on the other side of the living room, staring at me with slightly lifted ears.
“You lock the door this time, got it?” I tease tiredly, suddenly more worn down than I’ve ever been in my life.
Summer’s face hardens again, my attempt at a playful snipe backfiring. She glares at me, not speaking but slamming the door shut. A second later I thankfully hear the bolt slide into place.
Chapter 4
Summer
The moment the door swings shut and Cooper is gone, Rosco suddenly remembers that his large paws aren’t frozen to the soft carpet. He bolts up, pacing and sniffing every corner of my small home. In his flurry of movement, I can almost see how Cooper was able to walk into my bathroom without meaning to, not that I was about to admit that. I’m just thankful my surprise intruder turned out to be harmless.
Rosco makes his way to the front door, pressing his whole body against it and whining sharply. It’s a call that rips through his furry throat, one that comes from his heart. Again and again he thrusts himself into the door, trying to force it open so that he can chase down his master. I can already tell that for Cooper, Rosco would run any length and jump any hurdle.
Though heartbreaking, it’s not the first time I’ve seen a dog react that way to their owner leaving. Usually, I’ve prepared ahead of time to soften the blow and ease the transition. Distraction is key, whether that’s giving the dog something to chew or play with or just snuggling them close. This time, I was so blindsided that I didn't have time to brainstorm on how to help Rosco adjust.
In a lot of ways, dogs are like little children. They are inquisitive, sweet, and needy. They need stability, they need love, and they need time to adapt when life throws them big changes that are hard for them to comprehend. To young children and to dogs, every time a cherished person leaves their sight, they have no idea when that person will return. You can’t explain it to them, you can’t reason with them, you just have to comfort them and make them feel as safe and secure as they can be.
That’s why it’s so important to me that the dogs become acclimated to me before I take them under my care. I would never normally allow a dog to be dropped off in this hurried situation. I don’t know exactly why I agreed. Maybe it was the thought of the poor dog being alone all day or the fact that the cologne Cooper was wearing was more intoxicating than any booze I’d ever sipped. The musky scent went straight to my head, making the room feel like it was swaying. I could barely think straight the entire time he was here.
Had I really just let a man stroll right into my apartment and then agreed to watch his dog?
“What is wrong with you, Summer?” I mutter aloud.
I kneel down, lightly clapping my hands together as I call Rosco’s name. He turns, watching me with suspicious blue eyes. Sadie and Lola trot eagerly to me, nuzzling against me and licking my hands. I stroke them, hoping to show Rosco that I’m not a danger. After a few minutes of watching me with dread, gazing at the door with hope, and regarding my own dogs with lukewarm curiosity, he finally ambles over.
Rosco takes the long way, circling the living room like a shark so that he can carefully gauge my body language. I would’ve offered him a treat, but without talking to his vet, I didn’t want to risk any allergies. For tonight, he would have only the food that Cooper left for him.
“Hi, Rosco,” I whisper, voice low and level as the large Husky finally approaches.
He sits at my side, keeping an eye on me. I lift a palm toward him, keeping it carefully within his sight. He sniffs my hand before allowing me to pet him. He doesn’t press against my hand, he doesn’t close his eyes with pleasure. The dog simply allows me the honor of petting him, as though telling me that he will never like me the way he likes Cooper.
“I know you’re not too happy about being left behind, but it’ll be all right. Tomorrow we’ll go for a walk. How does that sound?”
I always found myself talking to the dogs as though they can understand me. And while I know that they can’t comprehend every word I say, I also know that my tone goes a long way. It was so sweet to see that Cooper speaks to Rosco like a friend rather than an animal. It almost made me like the smug CEO. Almost.
Rosco’s stiff posture softens as he slowly inches closer and closer until he leans heavily against my side, his snout resting against my shoulder. He’s searching for comfort and has realized he will only find it with me. I rub his back, sighing softly. The poor boy is confused and afraid, but fortunately I see no signs of aggression in his turmoil. Though I wish I could let him sleep in bed with me and my dogs tonight, the best thing for him is the security of the kennel.
I glance at my watch. So much for my relaxing night. I might as well just get the dogs fed and ready to sleep.
Despite standing up with careful slowness, Rosco still darts away at the movement. Giving him as much space as he needs, I fill the dogs’ bowls. I have plenty of spare bowls and pick a blue one for Rosco that matches his eyes. Knowing that some larger breeds can be possessive of their food while eating, I separate Lola and Sadie from Rosco before setting the bowls down. After letting Rosco sit with his dish for thirty minutes, the big dog still hasn't so much as sniffed the food. This doesn’t surprise me with how sad he’s been acting since Cooper left. Many dogs manifest their sadness in different ways, from not eating to eating too much, being lethargic or destructive. You never know how they’ll react to stress. Rosco probably wouldn’t even eat if starving and there’s little I can do to convince him. At least it’s only for one night. He’ll be fine until Cooper came to get him tomorrow.
I pick up his bowl and set it aside, so I can try again later. I stroke his soft ears as he stares into my eyes, begging me to bring his master back to him.
“You’ll see him tomorrow,” I promise him. “Let’s get you in the kennel.”
His ears prick just slightly at the familiar word and I gesture him toward the roomy metal cage. He sniffs it, tail going between his legs, but eventually walks in. I kneel down and lock the cage, reaching my fingers in to pet him one more time before letting Sadie and Lola out of my room.
They’d scarfed down their food and were now curiously checking on Rosco. The three dogs sniffed one another between the metal separation of the kennel.
Leaving my bedroom door open, I climb into bed and stretch out, my arms and legs wearily flopping against my soft mattress. During the summer it’s too hot for a comforter, especially with my two furry radiators joining me, so I just have a simple cotton sheet instead. I listen for the sound of Lola and Sadie trotting over, expecting them to leap up into bed, but I only hear them roaming the living room before settling beside Rosco’s kennel, as if they know he’s lonely and they want to keep him company.
Dogs truly are the gentlest beings in the universe, and I’m proud to know that I’m the owner of two such sweethearts. I’m glad now that I took Rosco in instead of turning him away. If I hadn't, he’d be laying on his own master’s bed, sad and alone. At least here he can have some company. Maybe he and my dogs will even become friends.
At some point while I’m planning which route will be easiest for Rosco to walk in the morning, I drift asleep. It’s a restless sleep, from which I half rouse with every small sound or movement in the living room. It’s always like this with a new dog that I’m watching. I can’t help but be nervous about how they’re doing. Still, I fully wake only when Lola and Sadie jump onto my bed in the early morning, licking my face and begging for breakfast.
Sleepily, I trudge into the living room and let Rosco out. He stretches and greets Lola and Sadie with a sniff, his usually low-lying tail lifting to half-mast and wagging slowly. Apparently, Rosco is a morning dog.
This time, when I separate the dogs and feed Rosco, he is more willing to eat. He scarfs down a few handfuls before pushing away his bowl with his s
nout. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress and it delights me.
After waiting for Sadie and Lola to finish up as well, I gather all the dogs for our morning walk.
“We’re going to take the route down through the park,” I explain, laughing when Rosco joins in as Sadie and Lola jump and dance around at the sight of their leashes. As it is with many dogs including my own, walks appear to be his favorite thing.
Despite Rosco’s cautious cheeriness, I know that Cooper must not be far from his mind and I don’t want to overwhelm him.
“I think that will be the least intimidating route for you, Rosco. There’s not a lot of cars or people this early.”
He barks happily as if he agrees.
Once all three dogs are leashed and ready, I head out the door and make a swift right. The morning sun glints off the windows of the buildings surrounding me, the summer sky cloudless and blue. It’s going to be a beautiful day. Maybe, if the weather stays this flawless, I’ll take the dogs to the dog park. Rosco would probably appreciate some time off-leash to wander and stretch his long legs. Though Cooper said his Husky is energetic, he’s been quiet and still for much of the time with me. Now, he trots enthusiastically, his ears up and tongue lolling. The sun must feel nice on his thick fur.
When we reach the park, however, the gates are still locked. I read the posted sigh and sigh. “Maintenance,” I grumble, rolling my eyes and looking around. “Well guys, looks like we’ll just have to take the long way down the—”
Before I can finish speaking, a car blazes by, the horn blaring loudly. In a flash, a startled Rosco rips away from me, tearing the leash from my hand. He barrels down the road, his tail once again tucked and the long blue rope slithering after him like a snake. He moves like a sleek gray missile, so fast that I can hardly see him by the time I start charging after him with Sadie and Lola.
I shout his name, desperately willing him to stop, but he refuses. He whips down alleys and back corridors until I have almost no idea where we are. He only stops when he hurtles headlong into a chain link fence.
Cooper: A Clean Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Boyfriend Series Book 2) Page 3