Page 10 of Taming Georgia

“So, that’s your plan?” Paige tilts her head to the side.

“Yep!” I put emphasis on thePsound, making it pop.

“You’re going to volunteer at an animal shelter?” she asks again.

“Yes, Paige. A pit bull rescue.”

“I didn’t even know you liked dogs.” She scrunches her lips together.

“Of course I like dogs. Who doesn’t like dogs?” I pull the brush through my hair one last time before wrapping a band around my ponytail.

She pours the kale smoothie that she just made from the blender into a to-go cup and tightens the lid.

“There are actually many people who don’t like dogs. Some are allergic to them. Some think they smell. Some hate drool.” She shrugs.

“They only smell if you don’t bathe them. Not all dogs drool. But, yes, those who are allergic to them might not be too fond of them. Most people love dogs. I mean…dogs are adorable.”

Paige grabs her purse from the table. “Hey, I’m not trying to rain on your thunder. I’m just saying that it’s an odd choice for a job. I never pegged you for one to shovel out dog crap.”

“First of all, the expression israin on my parade.” I raise an eyebrow.

One of Paige’s most endearing quirks is her ability to mess up the most well-known phrases.

“Secondly, I’ve done much crazier things to help out someone or something than shoveling a little dog poop. Have I told you about the time…”

She raises a hand to stop me. “Please, no. I need to get this smoothie down without gagging. I can’t hear one of your gross stories right now.”

“Fine.” I laugh. “I’m just saying, dog poop isn’t that bad.”

“Well then, you go, girl!” She raises her smoothie as if to make a toast. “You go save the world, one dog at a time. Whatever makes you happy,chica. I have to go give a marketing presentation on summer trends.” She starts toward the back door.

“But it’s still winter. Why are you already working on summer?” I question.

“Gotta stay ahead of the curve, my dear. Time is money, my friend. Strike while the rod is hot.”

I can’t help but laugh. There is no one in the world quite like Paige. I completely understand why London loves her so much.

“It’sstrike while the iron is hot, and I’m not sure that fits what you’re trying to say,” I yell after her.

“You know what I mean,” she calls from the back door. “Have a great day with your dogs, George.”

“Have a great day with your rods,” I say in response before the door closes.

I’m a ball of nerves as I approach the entrance of Cooper’s Place. I changed my jeans three times before making a final decision. It might be silly to fret over an outfit to volunteer at an animal shelter, but I’m just as excited to start here as I would be if starting a corporate job.

I think the jeans and black V-neck shirt I’m wearing are perfect. I look presentable yet ready to work. I’m always proud to work someplace I can help. Although I’m not making a six-figure salary, much to my father’s displeasure, these kinds of jobs aren’t without reward. I’m paid in a currency that’s much more important to me—self-worth.

I get that I’m still viewed as the little rich girl who can volunteer instead of holding a paying job because she has her daddy’s money to fall back on. I also know that a lot of people out there wish they could help causes the way I do, but instead, they have to work to put food on the table.

I’ve felt guilty about it my entire life. But helping others relieves some of the shame that comes with being the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Wright who wouldn’t give five dollars to a homeless man even if it meant he wouldn’t starve. There is an exception to their Scrooge-like ways, and that’s donating a large sum at a fancy ball or benefit where others can applaud their generosity. My parents are all about that.

They give because it makes others think highly of them. I give because it makes me feel good about myself. Sometimes, I don’t know how I came from them.

I step into the brick building, and a giant dog barrels toward me. My eyes widen, and I freeze.

But as soon as he reaches me, he bombards me with kisses, incessantly licking me.

“Cooper! Coops! Stop it, boy.”

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