Page 32 of Getting Lucky

“It’s me, Beatrice.”

Beatrice shook her head in a manner that said she wasn’t appeased. “Don’t get me started on that boy. You puffed him up something good by hiring him.”

She might like to call Dustin “boy,” but Beatrice was younger than him. Not by much, but her hair was still black, interrupted by the occasional strand of silver, her dark skin barely wrinkled.

“Beatrice, this is Iris. She’s our new volunteer. And Iris, this is Beatrice. Without her, nothing would get done around here. As a rescue, we’re dependent on fundraising, and Beatrice is the one who keeps the lights on and the doors open. If you’re interested in the business aspect of the shelter, she’s the one you want to talk to.”

She hadn’t thought Iris would be interested in that, necessarily, but she only had two full-time employees, plus a part-time night manager, and she introduced all of the volunteers to them. There was another reason she’d brought Iris back to meet Beatrice, one she hadn’t fully admitted to herself.

When she’d been down, Beatrice had pulled her up. She’d helped her establish all of this. This shelter. This life. And Iris was clearly struggling too.

“I’m glad to meet you, Iris,” Beatrice said, her annoyance toward Dustin dissipating. “I work at home more often than not, but I’m always here on Thursday afternoons. And if you have any interest in the numbers, I’d welcome your help one afternoon.”

To Maisie’s surprise, Iris brightened. “Yes, I’d love that. I want to be a business major in school, and Ilovedogs.”

“Good for you,” Beatrice said. “Most kids don’t know their a—butts from their elbows when they start college. If you know what you want going in, you’re ahead of the rest. Are you coming in every Thursday afternoon?”

“And Tuesdays,” Iris said, giving Maisie a rebellious look. They’d only talked about Thursdays, but she wasn’t about to say no.

“Why don’t you come by next Thursday when you get in, and you can be my new protégé.” She smiled up at Maisie. “Maisie here was my first protégé, and she’s not doing too poorly for herself.”

Something like curiosity flashed in Iris’s eyes, but she shut it down quickly.

“I’d like that,” she said simply. And then, as if remembering some distant lessons of etiquette—lessons, Maisie gathered, Jack had probably taught her rather than her mother—she added, “Thank you.”

“That’s settled then,” Beatrice said. “Now, I’ll let you two go, but Maisie, you and I are going to have a serious discussion about putting locks on the office doors.”

Maisie just waved her off, knowing she actuallylikedDustin. They both did.

“See you later.”

Iris didn’t talk much as they headed out to the Jeep and piled in, but she scrunched her nose against the dog smell.

“I’m surprised you’re not used to it after being in the kennels for so long,” Maisie commented.

“I’m not sure it’s the kind of thing you can get used to.”

Which was something Maisie had said herself more than once, so she just nodded. “Fair enough.”

“What did Beatrice mean,” Iris said, “about you being her protégé? Do you work on the numbers too?”

Maisie pulled out of the lot, heading toward the Buchanan house. “No, but I had to learn some things to open the shelter.” She shot a quick glance at Iris. “When my parents died, they left me that property.” Iris’s eyes rounded, but she kept going. “Well, they left it to my sisters too. They were going to flip the building and sell it. Beatrice was my mom’s best friend, and she left her job to help me start the shelter. I think she did it because she wanted to take care of me. That’s what she meant.”

Iris was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I’m sorry they’re dead.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t really have parents either,” Iris said, picking at something on her shirt. Maybe an invisible thread, but given she’d been walking dogs for almost two hours, it could very well be a rogue tuft of fur. “I only know who my dad is because I went through my mom’s phone and found his number. I…I tried to meet him, but he refused to see me. He said he only wanted to hear from me through his lawyer.”

Maisie wanted to hug her then, and maybe toss some puppies at her, but she held back, both because she was driving and because doing any of those things would surely result in Iris pulling away.

“That sucks,” she said, because it did. “But you have a brother who cares a lot about you.”

“Yeah, sometimes too much,” Iris said, looking up at her. Maisie only spared a quick glance at her, but there was something sharp in her eyes. A sort of scrutiny like she was studying Maisie for cues.

“Maybe he’s trying to make up for both of your parents.”

“I guess so,” Iris said, “but it would be nice if he could just settle for being my brother.”

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