Page 21 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

I end the call and glance over at Baxter, who has stopped chewing to look at me.

“What?” I ask. “So what? I like her a little bit. Don’t worry. It won’t get in the way of your training.”

He cocks his head in confusion.

“Also, I’m gonna do better,” I say with a sigh. “I promise.”

Can I keep that promise, though? I don’t know, but up till now I believed my dad gave me Baxter because he wanted to serve me another opportunity to screw up. The truth I’ve been glossing over, though, is that he cherished Baxter. He wouldn’t turn his dog over to someone who would harm him.

Maybe, just maybe, my dad actually believed in me. And it’s time I started doing the same.

CHAPTER 12

EMILY

The chime of the coffee-shop door signals the start of another monotonous afternoon shift. I clock in and get to work on stocking and cleaning; it’s always best to not let it wait until the hour before closing.

I’ve done all this a hundred times before, and my movements are mechanical, thoughts of Isaac’s unexpected apology lingering. He seemed sincere enough, his eyes searching for forgiveness I’m not sure I have the right to withhold. But Baxter… poor, misunderstood Baxter. Can Isaac truly commit to what that dog needs?

This isn’t the first time Isaac has promised he would do better, and I shouldn’t care. After all, I’m getting paid very well to show up, and at least I can help Baxter a tiny bit, even if his human isn’t on board.

So why does Isaac’s behavior get to me so? Why does it feel like I’m holding my breath, lingering on his promises, praying that he’ll follow through? Praying that he might even fall in love with Baxter and end up being a dog person after all?

That’s the missing piece, isn’t it? The one thing that stops him from being a perfect man.

“Emily!” My coworker, Dante, snaps me from my reverie with a wave of his hand. “Your phone’s buzzing like crazy.”

“Oh. It is?” I blink at the counter, where I didn’t even realize I’d put my phone. Usually, I stashed it in my purse in the office desk.

I reach for it, meaning to silence it and put it away, then pause when I see it’s Isaac sending multiple texts. What now?

“Check it,” Dante says.

“You sure?” I bite my lip.

“Do we look busy?” He grins at the counter, where not a single person waits.

“Thanks. I’ll be quick. It’s one of my clients.”

I step into the tiny office and unlock the phone to find multiple messages from him — photos, actually. Each snapshot showcases Baxter in a different setup: tongue lolling happily as he sprawls across a sunlit floor, ears perked in curiosity at a bird outside the window, paws tangled in a colorful heap of chew toys.

Each picture makes me smile, sends my heart fluttering. The images portray a side of Baxter that’s all too easy to love, and these aren’t pictures taken by someone who hates this dog. If I didn’t know better, I would think that the photographer had ten thousand other dog photos on his phone.

Maybe Isaac isn’t just another rich guy who thinks he can buy his way out of responsibility. Maybe he finally understands thatBaxter isn’t just a pet, but a commitment — one that requires patience, consistency, and a whole lot of love.

“Ooh, that’s a big smile,” Dante comments, coming into the office for a Sharpie.

I roll my eyes. “It’s a client.”

“A special client?”

I turn the phone so he can see the picture of Baxter.

“I like blondes too.” He winks as he leaves the office.

I laugh, shocked at how light and joyous I feel. I also know that I can deny it all I want, but it’s getting harder every day to fight my feelings for Isaac. Especially when he’s sending me adorable dog photos, which are the key to my heart.

Putting the phone away, I straighten my apron and head back to the front. It sounds like Dante has customers, and I can’t — and don’t want to — hide back here all day thinking about Isaac.

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