Page 5 of Worst in Show

I frown at him. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Like that?” He points out the window, and there across the street are Tilly and Leo looking up at the Canine King sign. He says something to the workers before pulling out a key and letting himself into the store.

You have got to be kidding me.

Living History Illinois Flockify DM, Wednesday 07:33 PM

AlCaponesGhost25: Moderator here. Your post got flagged. If you are a registered company, you may not promote it on the server.

SingerQueen: Not a company and it’s been allowed in the past. New here?

AlCaponesGhost25: Me or the rules? As long as you are not a company, I’ll allow it.

SingerQueen: So magnanimous…

AlCaponesGhost25: Lol. And yes, I’m new here.

Two days after my run-in with Leo in the park, the store across the street is unrecognizable. Like all Canine Kings, the storefront framework has been painted black with the name contrasted in gold lettering to make sure no one misses the fact that this is an exclusive boutique even though it is a chain. And to think I used to enjoy visiting the downtown Chicago location when I lived there.

I shoot icy glares through the window where I stand half covered by the curtain, nursing a cup of coffee. From up here, I can see most of Leo’s store—the new shelves and display tables, a fridge undoubtedly filled with fresh, organic dog food, and a large chalkboard leaning against the counter. Everything looks neat and organized, if not completely done yet. As I’m watching, Leo emerges from the back, Tilly at his feet. He’s there all the time it seems—probably because they’ve moved into the apartment above the store. He studies something in his hands before placing a HELP WANTED sign in the window.

“Yeah, I bet you need help,” I mutter.

As if he hears me, he looks up, skimming our facade before finding the window where I’m standing.

I take a quick step back and hold my breath.

When I peek a minute later, he’s gone.

I’ve just put my mug in the sink when the bell at the front door downstairs jingles, announcing our first customer of the day. I peer through the railing to make sure Harvey’s got it covered, and… it’s him.

Leo looks around Happy Paws, and for a moment, I see it the way he might. A mishmash of cardboard cut-out animals in the window display, two old birdcages my grandma found at a flea market, stuffed dogs in cowboy costumes… I inhale the rich, musty smell of dry pet food as the radio plays faintly in the background. To me, it’s homey, but Leo looks like all his senses have been assaulted by a dressed-up monkey banging cymbals together. He’s above this, his flared nostrils say. His judgy nostrils.

But as I’m watching, Harvey steps out from behind the counter, and like that, Leo’s pinched discomfort transforms into a pleasant smile. The deception force is strong with this one. I should remember that. Fool me once, etcetera.

“Hello, there,” Harvey says in his usual jolly way. “How can I help you today?”

As quietly as I can, I squat lower to hear better. Leo looks around before stepping closer to Harvey. The dogs are resting near the bottom of the stairs. Cap and Boris ignore him, but Cholula lifts her head and growls at the uninvited visitor. That’s my girl.

“No, that’s no way to greet people,” Harvey admonishes her.

Cholula quiets down but stays vigilant.

“Hi,” Leo says, extending his hand toward my grandpa. “I wanted to stop in and introduce myself since we’re new neighbors. I’m Leo Salinger.”

“The Canine King.” Harvey nods but leaves Leo hanging a moment before shaking his hand.

I suppress a giggle when Leo startles at the firmness of Harvey’s grip. I’ve introduced a couple of boyfriends to him in the past, so I know this move.

“Harvey Morton,” Pop says.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Morton.”

Pop shakes his head. “Harvey is fine. Is the store coming along all right? I see you’ve been busy.”

“Slowly but surely.” Leo smiles again, and my fingers clench tight at his self-assured tone. “I’m inviting all the neighbors to the soft launch next Friday. We’ll have some drinks and appetizers, free samples, and live music. Hope you can make it.” He spots the corner where we keep our hamster cages. Currently Muffin and Ham Solo are our only two residents, and that’s fine by me. Cleaning out wood shavings was never my thing. Leo runs his palms down his shirt as if the mere sight of our facility makes him feel dirty.

How dare he insult Pop this way? I stand and grip the banister to propel myself downstairs. “You,” I say, loudly.

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