Page 42 of Worst in Show

“There you are,” Leo says once he reaches us, as if he’s been looking for me. He’s in track pants and a fitted T-shirt that enhances a muscled physique my palms still remember from the close encounter in the bar. “Great minds think alike.”

“Don’t think so.” I gesture to his forehead. “Judging by how sweaty you are, I assume you’re coming back from a run, and my great mind would never have such a self-flagellating idea.”

To my surprise, he laughs, and I have to pull with all my might to keep Cholula from making a snack of his calf. She’s surprisingly strong for such a small dog.

“Wow, you really are one of the prickliest people I’ve ever met. And I’ve worked on Wall Street so that’s saying something. Were you always like this or is it reserved for me?”

“Just you.” I press my lips together.

“You’re funny,” he says. “Any updates on Harvey?”

“I wasn’t trying to be, and no, he has physical therapy right now, so I’ll be calling him later.” Squinting up at him, I’m briefly distracted by how his hair shimmers gold in the sunlight. Is that natural or does he get it colored? I wouldn’t put it past him. I take a deep breath. I did agree to a truce. “But thanks for asking, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” He looks at me expectantly as if waiting for me to say something else.

I shift from one foot to the other, careful not to step on Boris. “What can I do for you, Leo? I think I’m currently out of prospects for you to ruin.” Oops. Civility fail…

“Funny again.” He looks off into the distance. Then, after a beat, he says, “Well, basically, I feel really bad about yesterday.”

“Yeah?”

“But I’ve had an idea that might fix it.” He hesitates.

“I’m listening. Don’t suppose you’re closing the store and getting out of Dodge?”

“Ouch.” He touches his chest. “Solid Western reference, but no. Um, I just got off the phone with my aunts. Their farm is only fifteen minutes farther than the agility place, and they have plenty of space, so I’m going to use one of their fields to train Tilly.”

I scoff. It figures. “Way to rub it in.”

“No, you don’t get it.” A flash of frustration. “I wanted to see if you’d be interested in training there, too. We’d have to get our own obstacle course equipment, but if I know my aunts, there are boards and barrels lying about for us to use.” He looks serious and doesn’t avert his eyes under my scrutiny.

“What’s the catch?” I ask.

“No catch.”

“No, I mean, what’s in it for you? Why are you being helpful all of a sudden?”

He lets out an amused huff. “I promise there’s nothing. I just thought… You need a place to train as much as I do, right? And we’ve called a truce. Consider it my way of saying sorry. Tilly was the instigator last night.”

“Oh.” I switch the leashes from one hand to the other and then back again. That would help a lot. The door that was almost closed in my mind blows open a little wider again. “Even though we’re competing for the same prize?”

A crooked smile. “Like I said—a little competition never hurt anyone.”

“Well…” I look straight into his eyes. “As long as you understand I intend to whoop your butt at the show.”

“I would expect nothing less.” He scans the park and starts jogging in place. “I’m going out there in a couple of hours, so if you’ve got nothing else planned…”

“Um, no… Yeah… I could probably do that,” I hear myself saying. I could?

“Great!” He lights up. “Just come by around noon. Oh, and there’ll be food.” And with that he’s off.

I stare after him, feeling as if a microburst just picked me up and set me down wrong side up. “Huh?” I say to no one in particular. This may well be an even worse idea than asking him to teach me how to drive stick.

I must be out of my mind agreeing to this. Driving together? Having Sunday lunch at his aunts’ place? Training the dogs side by side? But I did say I’d stop at nothing to get Cho ready, and if it puts me back in the race for $15,000… I’m going to win this thing, and then I’m going to rub Leo’s much-too-handsome face in it. In a civil way, of course.

“Isn’t it going to be weird for your aunts that I’m coming along?” I ask in the car. All the dogs are hanging out in the back, and so far, there’s been no circus. Well, no circus except Boris letting out melodic howls every time an old-school country song comes on. My grandma only listened to the likes of Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, and Dolly so we think he’s singing along out of appreciation, but of course it could also be him trying to drown out the sound because he hates it. Tilly and Cholula are sleeping next to each other as if they’re litter mates.

Leo drives with one hand, the other arm resting against the center console. He showered and changed out of his running clothes, but he’s still dressed more casually than usual in jeans and a threadbare black Yale hoodie. He’s pushed the sleeves up his arms, and the muscles in his forearm tense and relax beneath the skin when he shifts his grip. I try not to notice.

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