Page 82 of The Problem with Dating

I smiled down at Feliz, who still looked at me with those perfect eyes. “Don’t worry, buddy. Scrooge is gone. It’s just you and me now for the rest of the day. Though, he’s not that bad once you give him a chance.”

Feliz began wagging his tail as if he understood me, and I started blow-drying his coat, using the pet brush from my backpack to make sure none of his fur ended up matted. After I cleaned up his mess in his crate to make a comfortable place for him and leave Alex’s home smelling less like crap, I set Feliz’s food up, which he scarfed down within minutes.

Walking him over to The Pup Around the Corner was easy, too. Clearly, Feliz could tell I wasn’t out to hurt him. Though every now and again, someone would cross our paths, and he’d try to take out their ankles. But then again, I, too, wanted to take out people’s ankles sometimes.

“Oh, who is this cutie?” Keri asked as I walked into the shop. She smiled at Feliz, and he lunged toward her with the most intense barking I’d seen the guy showcase. “Whoa!” Keri gasped, jumping backward. “Feisty, huh?”

I tried to calm Feliz, but he kept trying to shoot toward her, completely zoned in as if he wasn’t only going for her ankles, but he wanted to rip her throat out. He was acting even worse than he had when Alex first met him.

“Feliz, it’s okay. It’s just Keri,” I explained, pulling him closer to me and lifting him into my arms.

“Dogs like me!” Keri chimed in with her bright smile. “It’s okay, buddy.” She stepped toward us, and Feliz almost shot straight out of my arms to attack Keri. “Maybe he needs time to warm up. I’ll go get Lucy in the back. She’s better with the smaller dogs.”

I agreed with her. The moment Keri left the room, Feliz calmed down. Lucy came out and had no issues taking him in the back for extra tender love and care. While they worked in the back, I headed to my office to do paperwork.

Oh, paperwork and how much I hate you.

The books were behind, clients weren’t catching up on their tabs, and I couldn’t help but think that Mr. Parker was rolling over in his grave at how bad I was at the business side of things. I felt strongly that I was letting him down, but I had no clue how to reverse it at all. I couldn’t give them pay cuts, either, because I knew my employees already worked harder than they should’ve. If anything, they deserved raises.

I’d already shaved my cut as much as I could, too. If I decreased my salary any more, I couldn’t be able to afford my apartment.

I wished I could’ve ignored the hard parts of life. Shoved it deeply in the back of a dresser drawer and never thought of it again. But the problem with shoving your issues into a dresser drawer was that they built up more and more each time until they overflowed, forcing you to deal with the mess you made.

I was almost at the dealing part of the issues.

Almost.

I was also quietly praying that the Fall into Fall Festival would help raise enough money for The Pup Around the Corner. It was my last hope. Even if we could raise five thousand dollars, I’d be grateful.

“If you keep furrowing like that, you’ll get forehead wrinkles,” a voice said. I looked up to see my father standing in the doorway of my office. He tapped his forehead. “Trust me, I know.”

I shoved the paperwork into the drawer. “Don’t worry, I use wrinkle cream,” I joked, pushing out a smile to try to combat my anxiety. “What’s going on, Daddy?”

He grimaced and lowered his brows. “You tell me. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing. Just work stuff. I’m good.”

“Liar.”

Liar.

I smiled more. “It’s fine. It will all work out.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to ask for help, baby girl. Sometimes, by asking for help, that’s the way it all works out. So if you need your papa to write a check—”

“Daddy,” I cut in. “I’m good. I promise.”

What a lying promise that had been. He knew it, too, but he didn’t push. I knew how hard my father worked for every cent he made. A hardworking construction man, he built his business from the ground up. My sisters and I tried to convince him to stop working so hard, but he’d always say, “What if my girls need something? I want to make sure I have it to give.”

You couldn’t talk a good man out of providing for his family, no matter what.

“What brings you in today?” I asked, gesturing to the basket he held in his hands.

“Ah, yes. A lunch date. Before the annual picnic auctions. I had my date with Avery yesterday, and today is yours. I need at least thirty minutes of your time so you can eat with the first man who loved you.”

My chest filled with love at how adorable my father was. Every year, he’d have picnics with each of us girls. It was a reminder of exactly what he’d said—one of the best loves we’d ever known.

I knew I was blessed to have a father who cared for me the way he did. Some people dreamed of such a thing—I lived it.

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