Page 13 of Worst in Show

Leo is facing the bar when I reach him. I tap him on the shoulder and clear my throat.

“Oh. Hey,” he says.

“Why are you here?” I ask, not bothering with a greeting.

“Cora, was it? This is Marcus. Marcus, Cora.”

Somewhere beneath the scruffy chin and receding hairline is the former captain of the lacrosse team. He regards me with interest. “With the dogs, right? I’ve seen you around. Moved here a couple of years ago?”

“Yes to the dogs, but I grew up here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I was a year under you in high school.”

He squints, looking me up and down. “Nah, I would have remembered you being under me.”

Gross. I pretend I don’t hear him and turn back to Leo, who to his credit mutters, “What the fuck, man?” and slaps Marcus on the shoulder.

“There are literally thousands of other places you could have chosen for Canine King,” I say. “Why here?”

Leo crosses his arms. “We did our research. It’s the best location for foot traffic in the fastest growing area. Plus there was an available apartment right above it.”

“And what did your research say about there already being a pet store on the block? That can’t be great for you.”

Marcus is unable to take a hint and tilts his head forward. “Seriously, I can’t place you at all. What did you say your name was?”

“Cora,” Leo and I say together.

“Give us a minute,” Leo tells him. Then he takes a few steps sideways toward the passage leading to the restrooms, indicating for me to follow. “Sorry about him.”

“It’s fine. I know how to handle myself.”

“I never said you didn’t.”

We stare at each other for a long moment.

“Look,” Leo says after a while, “it’s not personal, it’s business. And it’s not like our target customers are the same.”

“People with pets?”

“Canine King is exclusively for dogs. And unlike you guys, we curate the store for a specific clientele that—”

“Oh my God, do you even hear yourself?”

His expression hardens. “My point is our researchers didn’t consider your little mom-and-pop shop an obstacle to Canine King’s success. Either they’ll both make it or they won’t, but I expect Canine King will come out on top either way. Serious dog people want a serious retailer. I will carry the organic brands they seek, the right supplements, designer bowls and beds, and locally sourced treats. In my store, they will be able to get in and out, efficiently finding what they need—everything has its place and there’s no superfluous clutter.”

This must be what a kettle feels like at boiling. My neck is steaming beneath my hair. “And I suppose that’s all that matters. You coming out on top. High school all over again, basically. Marcus is still the douchey flirt who can’t hold his liquor, and you’re still the entitled sportsball star–slash–homecoming king who never has to bother with common courtesies like thinking about other people because it’s always always about what’s in it for you.” I’m sucking in a breath, relishing some slight satisfaction at the surprise on Leo’s face when Micki grabs my elbow from behind and leans in close.

“Red alert. Sweaty Lips just entered the building.”

“No.” I look left and right, and then I spot him. We went on one blind date two years ago, where he called his mother to check in every half hour. And as if that wasn’t enough, the image of his sloppy open mouth coming at me in the car after he drove me home is forever ingrained on my brain—hence the nickname. Unfortunately, he did not see the date for the failure it was and has pursued a second one with some regularity since, but now it’s been over six months since I last saw him. I’d been so sure he moved. “Damn it,” I mutter.

“What is it?” Leo scans the room.

“Hi, I’m Micki.” She sticks her hand out to him.

“Um, Leo.” He shakes her hand. “Something going on?”

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