Page 21 of Worst in Show

“Forgot something?” he asks.

“Yeah, I meant to tell you…” I let my gaze rise higher and point. “You’ve got a broken light. Might want to fix it.”

On the way out, my eyes land on his A-frame once more. Talk to me about how I can meet your unmet canine needs. Without thinking, I crouch down and erase part of the sentence from the board. I dig around in my pocket and find a chalk stump left from lettering Happy Paws’ promotions this morning that I use to give the prompt a different ending. “Enjoy,” I whisper, standing to admire my work.

Talk to me about our interpretive dance class for dogs.

I spend most of Saturday morning going over Happy Paws’ financial records, and the tune playing in the back of my mind goes something like this: Broken light notwithstanding, Leo’s store is amazing. Ooh, ooh, baby.

It’s classy, organized, well-stocked, and, judging by the turnout, clearly something the people want.

I hate it.

If I ever had doubts about what this would do to our business, they’re now gone. Pet owners who’ve been loyal to us for years were at Leo’s launch. I guess all it took for them to leave us was some glitz.

Our predicament is even clearer after Harvey brings in the mail and there’s a second notice from the power company. We have enough money for next month’s rent, but after that, it’s looking dicey. To cover our expenses, we’d need to make October our strongest month in sales since… I skim the past year’s records. Since June two years ago. At my feet, Boris lifts his sleepy head a couple of inches and sniffs the air. Then he puts it back down on top of my toes. Okay fine. The dogs need me. Pop needs me. Challenge accepted!

I spend my lunch break on internet searches like “how to make your business successful” and “make money fast.”

“Finding anything?” Pop asks, stirring cream into a cup of coffee across from me.

“So far it seems our options are to donate plasma or start driving for a delivery service. If only I wasn’t prone to anemia and didn’t already have a full-time job…” I smirk.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, kiddo. We’ve always been fine.”

I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t share his conviction. “Maybe,” I say instead, “but in the meantime, we really need to get Happy Paws online. We need a website, and at a very minimum, an Instagram account, too.” After all these years, we don’t even have a digital list of our customers. Everything is in Harvey’s head. Why have I never questioned that?

I pull out an empty sheet of paper and start a new list. Internet goes on top and then Sell more pet costumes. I have an Etsy shop for my creations that I started a couple of years ago that I should revive to add to what we sell in store. It’s the only added source of income that comes to mind for October. There’s also our booth at Winter Fest, but we won’t see that extra income until December. I may not be vying for the blue rosette in the amateur dog show, but we do sell well there since people come from all over with their dogs to compete.

“Any luck with the costume people?” Harvey asks.

“Let me check again.” I open the Flockify server and click to my posts. “Only the Cleopatra so far.”

One new DM awaits me, and I open it. It’s from late Thursday night. I was too busy dealing with Leo’s launch yesterday to check. I almost feel bad I’ve kept my new friend waiting.

AlCaponesGhost25: You never told me what fascinating aspect of Illinois history brings you here.

“Another riddle?” Harvey asks.

What do I tell the guy? If he’s forgotten about me soliciting business, maybe bringing it up again would be a bad idea.

“Cora?”

I look up to find Harvey watching me, one eyebrow raised. “Huh?”

He chuckles. “Never mind.” As he leaves the table, he mutters something that sounds like “Martha would be proud.”

I return my attention to the screen.

SingerQueen: Would you believe me if I said all of it?

I only have to wait a moment for a response.

AlCaponesGhost25: Hot dog girl!

The weight of my to-do list slips off my shoulders, and I smile.

SingerQueen: Definitely not answering to that.