Page 75 of Angel In Armani

As if in reply, Dougal bounced to his feet and swiped her face enthusiastically with his bright pink tongue.

Sara tightened her grip on the leash, but Maggie seemed to have a sense of humor about doggy kisses. She just grinned, wiped her cheek with her sleeve, and then patted Dougal again.

“Do you want to let him off his leash? There’re no gaps in the fence around the cages,” Maggie said.

Sara looked down at Dougal, who was practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Sure.” Maggie paused. “He’s not going to dig, is he?”

“No,” Sara laughed. “He’s never been a digger.” Dougal sniffed politely at her mom’s flower beds but he hadn’t actually dug anything up since he’d been a puppy. Even then the worst damage he’d ever managed was demolishing a pot of pansies one afternoon when they’d left him home alone for what he’d apparently decided was far too long. “He might pee on a few things.”

“Well, like I said, that’s not going to hurt anything.” Maggie turned back to the stuff she’d left piled on the benches.

“Are any of the grounds staff around?” Sara asked, adding her stuff to the pile.

“No,” Maggie said. “A couple of security guys are here but I already told them I was coming to the cages, so it’s unlikely they’ll come by. Why?”

Sara nodded at Dougal. “He’s not a fan of strange men. He won’t bite anyone”—at least, he hadn’t so far—“but if there are going to be guys around, it might be better to keep him leashed.”

“It will be okay,” Maggie said. “I’ll call the guys, tell them not to come over here. Let him go.”

“Are you sure?” Sara asked.

Maggie nodded. “It’s not fair to bring him out here and not let him run around some. Why doesn’t he like guys?” she asked as Sara bent and unclipped Dougal’s leash.

“That’s kind of a mystery. I got him as a puppy and no guy’s ever hurt him that I know of. Took him forever to warm up to my dad.”

Dougal bounded off, running in widening circles for a minute before he stopped and starting sniffing at things instead.

“What about boyfriends? Doesn’t that make it kind of tricky?”

“The last couple of guys I dated were when I was in the army,” Sara said. “He never met them. And there hasn’t been much time for dating since I was discharged. I’ve been busy with Charles Air.”

“Right,” Maggie said. “Your dad.”

Sara hoped she’d cut off that particular line of questioning. “So, how about we get this over with?” She waved a hand at the baseball cages.

Maggie laughed. “Gee, you sound so enthusiastic. Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.” She handed Sara a bat. “Have you ever actually played baseball?”

Sara studied the bat. It looked well used, the Saints logo painted across its widest part faded and chipped in places. “I think maybe softball a couple of times in grade school.”

“Well, same general principle.” Maggie picked up the other bat. “Hold it like this.” She demonstrated the grip, curling her fingers around the bat like it was part of her.

“Let me guess, you used to play,” Sara said.

“Yeah, I did in school. I was never a superstar. But it was fun. And these days, well, knocking a few balls around can be kind of therapeutic.”

“I prefer chocolate,” Sara said. “Or a good martini.”

“Oh, I do those, too.” Maggie bent forward and examined Sara’s grip on the bat. “That’s close enough. Now, headgear.” She picked up a helmet and passed it to Sara.

Sara leaned the bat against the edge of the cage and put the helmet on, turning to check on Dougal. He was sniffing happily around the enclosed grass.

“Do I need to call him back in?” she asked Maggie.

Maggie shrugged. “He’s probably okay. Does he like fetch? Maybe he’ll bring the balls back for us.” She picked up one of the buckets of balls.

Sara eyed them doubtfully. “A baseball might be kind of a mouthful. And hard on the baseballs.” Though Dougal would probably manage it if he could. He was kind of ball-crazy.

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