Page 54 of Shattered Chords

“We have a meet and greet area if you’d like to spend some time with him there.”

At that, I laughed. “Sure.”

Several minutes later, we were ushered into a small room. The pup was the size of my palm and even Sherri seemed stunned when he allowed me to settle him in my lap.

“Most shelter dogs take time to warm up to a newcomer,” she explained as I rubbed the pup’s belly.

He was warm and alive and he felt awfully cozy, and I suddenly had the urge to take him home with me. So that’s exactly what I did.

I went back to the reception area, whipped out my wallet and my ID, paid the adoption fee, and left the building with my new housemate and some supplies.

In the car, the pup became anxious. He barked thinly and whirled on the seat next to mine, so out of fear of terrifying him even more, I put him in my lap and decided to wait for him to calm down.

We sat like that in the parking lot for nearly twenty minutes. I sucked on my candy and the dog fidgeted. I’d been given a leash and a bag of treats, but putting a collar on him seemed wrong.

“What am I going to call you, huh?” I asked, scratching between his ears. He, of course, didn’t say anything, so I went on, “You know, buddy, me and you are the same. My family didn’t want me either. My mother thought I was defective too. And guess what? Fuck her.”

The pup stared up at me with his huge sad eyes and then nuzzled my palm.

“You’re all right,” I said, then added, “How about we call you Snowflake. Sound good?”

He didn’t protest.

“Okay. Looks like you’re not opposed to it, buddy. Snowflake it is.”

To that, he barked and licked my knuckles.

Apparently, we were getting along just fine.

8 Camille

My nerves had gotten the best of me.

I was on my second glass of wine and my final trash container. Although they were emptied this morning while I was at the boutique, I brought them home, hauled them to the back yard, and scrubbed them inside and out as if the life of the entire human race depended on their cleanliness.

I’d left work after lunch, with Harper in charge of customer service and Renn in charge of the interviews. We were nearing a busy month again and desperately needed help, so at the end of last week, I’d posted an online ad that Dream Bride was hiring, and by Monday, we’d been slammed with the applications. Renn volunteered to sort through them and do the first round of interviews to narrow it down for me.

I’d liked that idea. My head hadn’t seemed to be in the right place these past few days because of Dante Martinez, who had his first lesson with my daughter today at six. Surely, he didn’t care how clean my trash containers were, but I didn’t know what else to occupy my hands with while he taught my kid how to play a guitar like a real rock star.

“Just don’t hover, okay?” Ally said from the patio, her tone snappy.

I was hosing down the recycle bin and my T-shirt was drenched and stuck to my chest and back like a second skin. Any chance I’d had of making an impression on Dante Martinez was now ruined by the smell of cleaning supplies and sweat.

Good thing impressing a self-centered rock god wasn’t on my list of priorities.

“I’ll try,” I told Ally.

The sun was crawling across the cloudless sky toward the western horizon, about to disappear behind the branches of an oak tree, but the heat was still unbearable. My lungs struggled to breathe and if not for my horrible anxiety, I’d be hiding inside by the AC.

“Well, it was your idea to do it in the living room.” My daughter crossed her arms on her chest. “Some privacy would be nice.”

“I’ll keep out of the way,” I promised, reminding myself to check the French door in the den and ensure it was open. It wasn’t that I didn’t fully trust my daughter, but I definitely didn’t trust Dante Martinez.

“You better.”

“I will. Just not too loud, okay?” I reminded. Ally’s room was the only one we’d soundproofed, and while our neighbors, the Johnsons, could hardly hear her practice when she played there, the living room was an entirely different story. It faced the Finleys’ patio and they were notorious for complaining about each and every noise.

“Sure.” Ally uncrossed her arms and marched back inside.

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