Page 24 of Marrying the Billionaire

My smile falters, forgetting how blunt she can be. Then again, I haven’t seen her since high school. What’s with running into everyone from a decade ago suddenly?

She studies me, a wrinkle forming between her brows. “Ah, shit. I did it again. I swear I didn’t mean for that to come across as snotty. I promised my therapist I’d work on that.”

I blink, taken aback by her change in demeanor. “Um, okay.”

She blows out a breath. “All right, let’s start over. Hi, Serena. Nice to see you. Yada, yada, yada.” She waves her hand in a rolling gesture. “Yeah, I was a raging bitch at Redmond, but can you help me find a dog for my stepdaughter?”

“I…” It takes me a moment to process her words. “Um, yes to the dog, but I never thought you were a bitch.” Opinionated, definitely. Straightforward and outspoken, sure. But she was never cruel.

She grins widely. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. I totally was.” Her head tilts, lips quirking up at me. “I guess not to you, though. I never understood why you got such a bad rap when all you did was mind your business.”

I shrug, not wanting to revisit memories I left behind long ago. Things already got stirred up at lunch the other day.

She claps her hands together. “Anyway, my new stepdaughter hates me. The biggest cliché, I know, but there it is. So to sweeten her up, I’m getting her a dog. It’s the only thing she’s ever wanted, apparently.” She rolls her eyes theatrically. “Tell me you’ve got one that’s already house trained and won’t tear up my furniture.”

“Well, we normally do an interview process to make sure you and the dog will be a good fit.” Basically to ensure they won’t bring it back in a week when they realize how much work a pet actually is.

She nods. “This isn’t just a whim. Even if Ava ends up flaking out on taking care of it, I’m prepared to assume full responsibility. I’m financially sound, have previous experience owning dogs, have my own home, blah, blah, blah. You know the drill. I’m here to scout out any contenders today and bring her back later if I find one.”

“Okay.” She essentially answered all the questions, although we’ll still need to do something formal if she’s serious about adopting. “Let’s go look at some dogs.”

“Perfect.”

I lead her to the kennel area, some dogs shying away from the front of their stalls when they spot someone new. My heart goes out to them and I make a mental note to spend some time later giving extra pets. Hopefully, continued socialization will eventually open them to trusting again.

“If you’re concerned about established habits and energy levels, you may want to consider an older dog who’s already gotten all their puppy-age destructive tendencies out of them.”

“Makes sense.” She eyes the dogs we pass, holding the back of her hand out for a few to lick through the metal bars.

“Off the top of my head, we have a couple that might be a good fit for you. Petey here is about five years old and came from a home with kids, so he’s already familiar with them. How old is your stepdaughter?”

“Twelve. Heading into prime sass territory.” She chuckles to herself. “Can’t blame her, though. I was the same way.”

She kneels in front of a stall with a fluffy tan mutt inside. “What about this one?”

“This is Sandy. She’s been here about a month.”

The dog cautiously inches forward, her beautiful brown eyes hesitant but hopeful.

“She’s six years old and we think she’s some kind of lab and cocker spaniel mix.”

“She’s got cute ears.”

Sandy sniffs at the back of her hand, then gives a small whine as she licks her.

“I’ve never seen her chew anything, and she’s always well behaved. A real lady.”

“Maybe she can teach me a few pointers,” she grins.

“Would you like to take her for a walk? We could go around the block together.”

She stands, biting her lip before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

I clip a leash on the dog’s collar and tell Sabrina we’ll be back soon, then head outside into the warm sunshine.

“I’m guessing you don’t let just anyone take dogs out for walks this fast normally?” Sandy strains at her leash as a squirrel darts across our path, and Claire quickly corrects her.

“No,” I admit. “But I know you. I can bend the rules a little every now and then.”

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