Page 23 of Marrying the Billionaire

Serena

“Serena?”

I lift my head to find Wendy, our executive director, staring at me, a wrinkle between her brow.

“Yes?” Wait, did she ask a question? “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

She smiles kindly. “I was asking if you’d like to be on the interview panel for our new adoptions coordinator.”

“Oh, yes, I would.”

“Great. Those are taking place next week on Monday from ten to twelve.”

I sit up straighter in my seat, glancing surreptitiously at the other board members, wondering how long I’ve been daydreaming, but no one is paying attention to me.

As chair of the board, I’m supposed to set the example, but it’s hard to focus on the animals today. I need to figure out what to do about Archer.

We’ve attended two other events since Monday’s benefit - a concert at the New York Philharmonic on Tuesday and a plated dinner for the Susan G. Komen Foundation last night. But there’ve been no more kisses after my disastrous attempt Monday. I’d been so into it, thinking it was my chance, that he’d finally feel the same attraction to me. But when I’d realized he was barely kissing me back… God, could I be any more of an idiot?

My cheeks heat just remembering the embarrassment, and I tilt my head down so no one else sees.

Wendy continues to speak, now about a litter of puppies surrendered to us this morning and a foster family she’s sure would be a great fit until we can find a permanent home, and I itch to go downstairs and play with them. Puppies make everything better.

I really should stay in the office and figure out how I’m going to break the news that almost all our funding is disappearing… but I at least have two more months until the start of the new fiscal year to figure it out.

And for now, I need puppies.

After the meeting ends, I head into the kennel, one of our regular volunteers, Sabrina, already in a stall with our arrivals.

“How are they doing?”

“A little skittish at first,” she says, giving the smallest puppy of the bunch a gentle pat, “but resilient. They’ll adjust well.”

I carefully open the gate and step inside, bending down and holding a hand out. The bravest of the trio pads over cautiously and sniffs at my outstretched fingers, nose wet and rough. Checking underneath, I discover it’s a boy, and smile as he gives a tiny lick to my pinkie.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

He wags his stubby tail, his pink tongue sticking out adorably.

“Looks like he’s taken a shine to you,” Sabrina says as she refills the water bowls. “Do you have any dogs at home?”

“No. I’m-” I stop, realizing how I was going to finish that sentence.Not allowed. Dad’s never been fond of pets. Even after moving into my own apartment, he wouldn’t hear of me getting one. Well, now I see why, since he always considered ithisproperty.

But it’s still not like I have a place of my own. Yes, Archer said it’s my home too, but I’ve already disrupted his life enough. I won’t push my luck.

“I get my fill of puppies when I’m here,” I tell Sabrina. “All the cuteness and none of the full-time responsibility.”

“That’s how I feel about my grandkids,” she laughs. “Oh, and speaking of responsibility.” She motions to where one puppy is relieving himself in the corner. “Let me clean that up.”

She steps out to grab a roll of paper towels, and as she comes back in, the bell chimes over the front door.

“I’ll get that.” I’d rather deal with a potential adopter than puppy pee.

I walk into the main area, my feet slowing as I recognize who walked in.

“Claire,” I smile. “How are you?”

She takes off her sunglasses, smirking. “I wondered if you’d be here. So it’s not just your name on the door? You actually help out too?”

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