The Dog Town Collection Page 2

  The guy looked at Arden. “Your friend is… interesting.”

  “Isn’t she?” Arden laughed again. “Rocky’s got her addled.”

  “A Tibetan mastiff in Dorset Hills,” Remi murmured, still on her knees. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Just visiting,” the guy said.

  Remi stared up at him, shading her eyes. “It’s so hot.”

  His eyebrows rose again. “Pardon me?”

  “Rocky shouldn’t be running with you. His fluffy coat is meant for a cold mountain climate.”

  The guy rolled his eyes. “It was just a short lap up and down the boardwalk.”

  Sticking out her hand, Arden said, “I’m Arden, and the dog authority is Remi.”

  “James. Well, I’d better get Rocky back and put him in the freezer.” He grinned at Remi. “Kidding.”

  Remi summoned her nerve, knowing she might never get another chance. “May I take a photo?”

  “Uh… I could use a shower first,” he said.

  “Of your dog!”

  Taking her phone, James nudged Rocky over to stand beside her. Leo ambled into the shot as well. After taking the photo, James typed something into the phone and handed it back. “Now I have your contact information in case these scratches go septic.”

  “He’s joking, Rems,” Arden said. “Aren’t you, James?”

  “Probably.” He backed away slowly. “How’s this, Officer Remi? Slow enough for Rocky?”

  “Perfect,” she called after him. “Sorry about your face.”

  When he was gone, Arden shook her head. “I wouldn’t count on him asking you out, Remi. You were a little hard on his ego.”

  “Fine with me. Not my type anyway.” She didn’t think much of someone who’d put his own needs before his dog’s. Plus, who needed a breed that expensive? It was like driving a Corvette when any beater would do.

  “Rich and stunning is exactly my type,” Arden said. “But they’re as rare as Tibetan mastiffs in Dorset Hills.”

  “Well, you can have him. I can only focus on one thing at a time, and right now, that’s getting ahead in my career.”

  Arden checked her phone. “Let’s grab Marcus’ coffee so that he’s in a good mood later. Leave Leo with me when you pitch him, okay?”

  A wave of anxiety washed over Remi. “I need Leo. I don’t want to be alone with that beard.”

  “My friend, you got this,” Arden said. “No one keeps Remi in the basement.”

  Chapter 2

  “Absolutely not, Remi.” Marcus pushed his chair back from his desk to put more distance between them. “Hannah Pemberton?”

  “Well, yeah.” Remi was perplexed. Normally Marcus would fall all over a lead like this. “Hannah’s here for a few days to open an exhibit of her mom’s art. She’s a great prospect.”

  Sweat had beaded on Marcus’ forehead. It was the price he paid for his prime office. The southwest windows soaked in the sun all afternoon and the ancient ductwork couldn’t keep the place cool.

  “I agree,” he said grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk to pat his forehead. “Hannah’s such a good lead that we need an experienced client manager on this.”

  Ah. Shut down already.

  “I’ve done lots of client meetings, Marcus.” Remi slid forward on the plastic chair. “I know how this works.”

  “You’ve gone out with Julia and Michelle a few times. Fostering leads is an art that takes time to learn.”

  “I have some history with Hannah Pemberton. That will give me a head start on building a rapport.”

  Marcus’ beard moved up and down, as it always did when he was swallowing what he really wanted to say. “Then I’ll send you along with Julia. You can sing backup.”

  “I’ve been singing backup for six months, and I’m ready to be the frontman. Or woman.”

  Remi had nothing against Julia Berens, the foundation’s most experienced client manager, except that she oozed quiet confidence and competence. Clients seemed to melt into puddles of dollars with little effort on Julia’s part. Remi simply couldn’t compete, and she needed this opportunity. What’s more, she was hoping Hannah might shed a little light on a long-ago event that still gnawed at her. She’d need time alone with her to work her way around to it.

  “If you’re set on client management, we’ll step up your training, Remi. Right now, I need you doing exactly what you are doing. You’re a terrific researcher.”

  “I appreciate hearing that.” Remi perched on the edge of the chair. He’d obviously chosen uncomfortable hard baskets to deter people from lingering. “But I’m ready to come out of the basement.”

  “We don’t have enough workstations right now.”

  “I meant figuratively, but now that you mention it, Collin’s office has been sitting empty since he left in June.”

  Marcus had backed himself into the wall, so he stood perfectly still. “I’m going to recruit in the fall. Summer’s a bad time to hire.”

  Remi kept pushing. “I’ll compete for it if I have to.”

  “It takes years to climb the ranks, Remi, you know that.”

  “I’ve been here for nearly eight years and no one’s put in more overtime than me. I’ve asked to move out of research during my last two performance reviews.” Her voice had a desperate edge but she forged on. “I’ve earned this, Marcus.”

  His salt and pepper eyebrows, kept slightly bushy to match the beard, drew together. “What’s going on? This isn’t like you.”

  “I’ve changed. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  “Remi.” He was trying to be gentle, which was so out of character that it made things worse. “You’re afraid of the bike courier.”

  “Because he’s almost run Leo over a few times. Stupid road warriors.” The kid was always showing off and doing donuts around her. The more she protested, the faster he spun. Arden said he had a crush on her, which was ridiculous, since she was nearly twice his age. “What does that have to do with Hannah, anyway?”

  “All I’m saying is that it takes nerves of steel to woo wealthy donors. It’s a natural gift.”

  “Interpersonal skills are learned, and I’ve been studying. All I need is more experience.”

  “Not with the Pembertons. They’re too important. Money like theirs could fund an entire wing of the hospital.” He edged toward the door. “As director, I have to make decisions about how to use my talent. And I need you in research. For the moment, you’ll have to accept that decision.”

  She stared down at her hands folding and unfolding in her lap. Without Leo, she never knew what to do with her hands. They were a giveaway.

  Since she didn’t respond, Marcus tried again. “We’ll talk more after Labor Day. Okay?”

  She glanced up, blinking to clear her eyes. The tears hadn’t escaped, so it wasn’t a total bust. Meanwhile the sweat had finally meandered though Marcus’ beard and started dripping onto his blue shirt, which had been freshly pressed in the morning. “Okay,” she said.

  “Fine, then.” He slipped out from behind his desk and held the door open.

  Leo trotted into the office and plopped himself at Remi’s feet. She took it as a sign to stay where she was.

  Marcus said, “We’re good, right?”

  She reached down and let Leo’s velvety ear slide between her index and middle fingers. Then she picked him up and eased back into the seat. The chair wasn’t designed for average-sized women with a canine accessory.

  Taking a deep breath, she started again. “I hear all you’re saying, but I really want this. I’ve followed Mavis Pemberton’s career closely, and I went to school with Hannah. If Michelle or Julia have as much in common, I’ll stand down. Otherwise, this project feels meant for me.”

  Leo rested his muzzle on the side of the chair, wasting his entreating gaze on Marcus. Looking down at the dog, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t use the dog on me. It won’t work.”

  “I can’t control where Leo looks. He’s just worried because I�
��m worried.”

  Marcus sighed. “There’s no need to get worked up about one lead. You’ll find another.”

  She crossed her legs to signify she wasn’t leaving. “This is the one I want.”

  “Remi, come on. It’s not like you to dig in your heels.”

  Leo felt the tide turn before she did. His slim tail started thumping against the chair. Remi pressed forward on the strength of that wag. “It is like me… now. I’ve learned so much here and I’m ready for more. That’s all.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, probably to block out Leo’s soulful gaze. “Fine. I’ll make first contact with Hannah and you can go with Julia as backup.” She started to protest and he raised his hand. “Take it or leave it. We can’t afford to mess up opportunities like this, especially not with a new mayor. Health care doesn’t seem to be Bill Bradshaw’s priority, so our days of plucking money off trees may be coming to a close.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Just go easy,” he said. “This is a meet and greet, that’s all. No hard sell. Till the soil, plant the seed, add a bit of water and let sunshine and time do the rest.”

  “Till, plant, add champagne and fun,” she said. “Got it.”

  “Champagne! Minimum viable investment, please.”

  “Hannah likes clubbing. It’s in my dossier. You always say you’ve got to meet the donor where she lives.”

  “There’s no club scene in Dorset Hills. Besides, you’d have a panic attack in a club. You hate people.”

  “Old Remi hates people. New Remi likes them, thanks to Leo”

  “Well, you’re not taking Leo along when you meet Hannah Pemberton.”

  “Why not?” She opened the portfolio on his desk. “Look at the photos. She’s a dog lover.”

  “You’ll seem nervous and weird, that’s why. Keep things light and easy.”

  “Leo’s my universal ice breaker. Honestly, Marcus, you’re the only person in town who doesn’t like dogs.”

  “Untrue.” He stepped through the door and closed it. After a minute, he opened it again. “Out. Both of you. And make sure you bring back a couple of leads from the fundraiser tonight so I know you’re taking this seriously.”

  “Back to the dungeon, Leo,” she said, setting him down. “But not for long.”

  The door hit her, quite literally, on the way out.

  Chapter 3

  Arden swept into the quadrangle behind the community center ahead of Remi, her extroversion on display in the form of ruby red lipstick and a jacket to match. The grand entrance gave Remi a few extra seconds to put her game face on. A wave of anxiety had collided with a wave of excitement and left her momentarily dizzy. She used to hate fundraisers; now she tried to see them as treasure hunts. Somewhere in this crowded space was a potential donor. All she had to do was make pleasant conversation with guests and establish a connection. If the connection took root, it might sprout into a beautiful flower down the road. Often it took years to nurture a lead to fruition. Fortune favored the patient fundraiser.

  She stared around the space, getting her bearings. The quad had been converted from a grubby play area to a pretty oasis with a canopy, potted palms and colorful paper lanterns. There was a thriving industry in this town turning unlikely locations into dog-friendly festivals. It was a rare week that didn’t feature an event of some sort—some black tie, some casual and some in outlandish costumes.

  Leo, with four white paws dangling over her forearm, gradually infused her with confidence. He was the canine epitome of arm-candy, and hands immediately began reaching out to touch his ears. Remi focused on those hands to stay grounded. There were big masculine hands, delicate, bejewelled hands, older veined hands, and finally… a black glove with a neon orange middle finger.

  Uh-oh. Only one person in Dog Town had the nerve to wear gloves like that. Cori Hogan was short on many things—tact being one of them—but she had nerve to spare. Barely five feet tall, and a ringer for Audrey Hepburn, Cori nonetheless easily managed dogs that outweighed her by far. She was arguably the best trainer in town.

  Well, she was the best trainer in town, but people liked to argue about it because she was imperious if she liked you and downright rude if she didn’t.

  Remi figured she was more or less on Cori’s good side, but panic prickled in her chest anyway. Every encounter with Cori was a test, and it felt like she failed most of them.

  “Hi Cori, I’m surprised to see you,” she said, hastily attempting to disengage Leo. He held onto her arm like a sloth clinging to a branch. This was his favorite way to socialize—lazily airborne.

  Cori’s presence shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The purpose of the event was to raise money for a training center in one of the less privileged neighborhoods in Dorset Hills. The programs would be subsidized for people who couldn’t afford all the bells and whistles of the premier training Leo had received. It was exactly the type of cause Cori and her friends supported. In fact, they worked tirelessly in dog rescue—sometimes in plain sight, and sometimes on the sly. Remi didn’t know much about their clandestine activities, but if half of the rumors of their rescue exploits were true, they deserved medals. At least in Remi’s opinion. The new mayor probably wouldn’t agree.

  Cori looked up at Remi with sharp brown eyes. “Newsflash: you’re breaking my fundamental rule of dog training.”

  “Four on the floor. Right.” Remi tried harder to shake Leo loose so she could set him down.

  “He’s not a handbag, Remi,” Cori said. “We wouldn’t have rehomed Leo with you if we knew you’d treat him like one.”

  “Yes, we would.” Bridget Linsmore, a tall and effortlessly elegant woman, was standing behind Cori, smiling. At her side, as always, was her similarly tall and elegant black dog, Beau. “The whole point of dog rescue is to place the right dog with the right person. Never has there been a better match than Remi and Leo.”

  “You’re missing the point,” Cori grumbled. “She’s treating Leo like a spoiled baby. When a dog starts believing his own good press, he also starts ignoring the rules of civilized canine behavior.”

  “Leo behaves perfectly,” Remi said.

  “For a purse,” Cori said. “Although a purse would be more cooperative. He’s passively resisting your attempt to offload him.” She put one gloved hand on either side of the dog and his resistance evaporated instantly. Once his white paws touched the floor, his mouth opened in a sloppy smile. “Say it with me, Remi: D. O. G.”

  Arden had turned to watch Cori, her red crescent mouth flipped into a frown. “Leo’s fine, Cori.”

  “When I put his leash in Remi’s hand, he was better than fine.” Cori rested her gloved hands on the hips of her black jeans. “His obedience was impeccable. Is it still impeccable?”

  The orange flipping fingers made her point silently. The gloves had become Cori’s trademark relatively recently, and now she was rarely seen without them. After Mayor Bradshaw took office, the Dorset Hills rescue network got nervous. Little had changed on the surface, but everyone seemed to sense a seismic shift in the town’s culture. It felt like the sweet, welcoming Dog Town air had lost some of its effervescence.

  Arden wasn’t surrendering to Cori without a fight. “Leo’s a good dog. I see him nearly every day.”

  “All dogs are good dogs. It’s the owners that cause problems.” Cori’s eyes narrowed as she scanned Arden. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Bridget stepped forward, and a barely perceptible twitch of her fingers guided Beau into position in front of Cori. His feathery black tail fanned apologetically, and his eyes showed a thin white arc as he gazed up the trainer. He respected Cori but took his orders from Bridget.

  “It’s a party, Cori,” Bridget said. “Let’s put pleasure before business tonight.”

  “Everything’s business.” Cori’s hands dropped from her hips to her sides, as if she couldn’t resist both of them. “Whatever. I’ll follow up with Remi for a booster session soon.”

&
nbsp; “Great,” Remi said. “I’m always happy to brush up.”

  The contract with Bridget’s rescue organization stipulated that Leo could be reclaimed any time she saw fit. As Dog Town’s famous matchmaker to the mutts, Bridget could pretty well call the shots on any dog she placed. Her annual Thanksgiving rescue pageant was one of the biggest attractions in a year full of noteworthy events. Given what Bridget had said about them being a perfect fit, it seemed unlikely she’d reclaim him, but there was no hoop Remi wouldn’t jump through to keep Leo.

  “If the dog behaves for the rest of the night I might let you off the hook,” Cori said. “Only because I’m crazy busy.”

  “Or just crazy,” said a woman with gorgeous red hair, as she joined them. It was Andrea MacDuff, an up and coming real estate agent in Dorset Hills and one of Bridget’s best friends.

  Cori flipped her neon fingers at Duff in a double salute, and Remi used the opportunity to escape into the crowd. She only had an hour or so to make inroads if she was to bring back the fundraising leads Marcus had demanded. It would be harder without Leo in easy reach of friendly hands.

  Arden introduced Remi to an older gentleman who’d recently opened a small art gallery in an alley off Main Street. For a small city, Dorset Hills had an inordinately high number of visual artists. The resulting shops, galleries and public installations were definitely one the upsides of the transition from the stodgy Dorset Hills of her youth to the charming tourist attraction it was becoming.

  As the man stooped to pat Leo, a voice rang out over the din. “Remola?”

  Remi stooped too, hoping the word wouldn’t land. It circled, dove and suddenly her shoulder was in the talons of her mother.

  “Hey, Mom,” she said, rising and leaning in for an air hug. Her mother preferred not to crush her clothes with public displays of affection. Betsy Malone was as social as Remi was shy, and the only reason she didn’t attend more such events was that she didn’t much fancy Bill Bradshaw and the way he was steering the town.