Page 83 of Hound Dog
“She’s fine,” I said, putting my hand to Haylee’s knee. I meant it to be comforting, but the moment my palm came into contact with her leg, the molecules between us zipped up tight, buzzing with chemistry. “I stopped by when you didn’t answer my text, and she told me you were here.”
Haylee exhaled in relief as she finally pulled her phone out. “Thank goodness. I must have forgotten to turn my ringer back on after my lessons this morning.”
Addy slurped the last of her bloody mary, eyeing me from across the table. “Okay,stalker. What are you doing just showing up at her house? Maybe she didn’t want to talk to you.”
I glared at my sister an extra-long moment before I grabbed her fork and stabbed a few of her potatoes.
Despite her protests, I popped them into my mouth before answering. “I’m not a stalker. Nick wants to pick up Birdie today before his shift, and we have…”Shit.I couldn’t say we had a matchmaking appointment with Simon. “Uh, well, my friend wants to meet one of Meryl’s other dogs this afternoon.”
I gave Haylee and Enzo each a pointed stare.
“Iknow,” Haylee said. “I have that in my calendar. I would have been home in plenty of time.”
“How’s Meryl doing, anyway?” Enzo asked, and I could have kissed her for the change in subject.
Haylee rolled her eyes. “She’s impossible. Half the time I don’t even know why I’m here staying with her. She refuses my help ninety-nine percent of the time. Most days, she shoos me out of the house, saying that she needs her alone time. Since Finn brought her that little wheely thing, she thinks she’s back to being totally independent. Yet, when she tries to cook herself dinner, she nearly burns the house down.”
“I’m pretty sure Meryl’s lack of cooking skills has nothing to do with her hurt ankle.” I snorted a laugh and reached for another potato.
Before I could spear another, Addy slid her plate out of reach and glared at me. “Get your own brunch.”
Haylee sighed and slid her plate over to me. “Here, have mine. I’m full anyway.”
I didn’t hesitate or wait for her to redact that offer before diving in. I finished what was left of her eggs Benedict in a few bites before I stood. “What do you say? Ready to go find a home for Princess?”
She lifted a brow. “Your friend is interested in Princess?”
I shrugged and slid a quick glance at Addy before answering, “What can I say? The heart wants what the heart wants.”
Haylee stood beside me,both of us crammed behind my hotdog cart, staring across the park where Simon sat at a picnic table with Princess sitting beside him.
“I can’t believe it,” Haylee said, the words leaving her with a gush of air. “Princess hates all men.”
“Obviously notallmen,” I said, staring and equally in shock as the Shih Tzu mix hopped on her hind legs and delivered a kiss to Simon’s cheek.
“Well, she definitely wasn’t a fan of yours.” She grabbed my bandaged hand gently and winced on my behalf. “How bad did she bite you?”
“It’s just a flesh wound,” I said in my best Monty Python impression.
For real, though, that damn dog drew blood.
A man and woman approached our hotdog cart, smiling. “Can we have two banh mi turkey dogs?”
Haylee grinned and got to work, grabbing the tongs. “You got it,” she said.
I had to admit, her idea for today’s hotdog was inspired. Banh mi veggie dogs were easily the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten with the pickled vegetables on top with cilantro, hoisin sauce, and mayonnaise? It was chef’s kiss good.
After they had paid and left, Haylee examined what was left and gave a low whistle. “For a fake business, we’re doing awfully well selling these dogs. There’s only about a dozen left.”
“Shhh,” I hushed her, looking around. “Have you learned nothing about this town, yet? There are earseverywhere.”
I turned my attention back to Simon who was doing surprisingly well with the ladies. He had women coming up to him every few minutes to pet Princess and talk with him. But unlike most of my other clients, he was the one who kept turning them down.
When a cute redhead approached him, I unmuted my microphone. “Okay, Simon. She’s pretty, but not too pretty, just like you said you wanted.”
Apparently, a woman who was too beautiful intimidated him. “She’s not too dressed up.” That was his complaint about the last girl… ‘too fancy’ were his exact words. “And, I mean, okay, I’m sort of far away, but from where I’m sitting her nails look like they’re a normal length.” And not scary talons, as he’d described his other dealbreaker.
That one I’d give him. I slept with a girl once who had these crazy long, pointed fake nails. That shit nearly sent me to the hospital.
