Page 31 of Love in Training
“Achievement unlocked,” she says, sounding a little guilty. “We had to start turning people away after the holidays.”
“Wow, that’s...” I inhale deeply through my nose, glancing at the dog calmly sniffing the sidewalk beside me. Whoapparently only loses his mind when I leave. “That’samazing, Lydia. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” she says, excitement palpable through the receiver. “But even if I could squeeze him in, I doubt Rufus would be ready for daycare tomorrow.”
“Oh . . . um, why?”
“He needs some established normalcy first,” she says, like this should have occurred to me. “The poor dog lost Kyle, then lived with a foster for who knows how long. Then your brother swept in and flew him across the country, and now he’s living with a woman he doesn’t know or trust.”
“Why wouldn’t he trust me?” I frown, thinking about the creepy dude in the hall yesterday, and the way Rufus stood by the door and growled. “I thought dogs had instincts about people.”
She snorts. “Sure. What do you suppose Heartthrob’s instincts tell him about you?”
I scowl. I tolerate Lydia’s dog slightly better than I tolerate her husband.
“I’m just saying,” she says more gently, “Starting daycare will be too much for him right now. First, you need to get to know each other better.”
“Okay, fine. We’ll start having date nights. But in the meantime, I need to be able to go to work, and this crate thing is not happening.”
“What do you mean?”
I grit my teeth. “I mean, I fed and walked him this morning just like you told me, and then I put him in there and left to do an interview. But according to my neighbor, he acted out scenes fromThe Exorcistthe whole time I was gone.”
“Oh . . . that’s a problem.”
“Exactly.” The dog rounds the corner and I follow with a sigh, waiting while he lifts his leg on a lamppost. “Lydia, I have to beable to leave him. I’m working on this story, and I just—I have a meeting tomorrow at nine. Ihaveto go to work.”
“Right, okay. I just need to think...” Her tone doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. “Any chance you can work remotely for a while?”
I’m about to tell her exactly why that isn’t an option when my phone vibrates and I glance at the screen. A glimmer of hope blooms in my chest. “Hang on. Darius just sent some kind of possibility. I’ll call you later.”
CHAPTER
TEN
It starts sleetingas soon as I pull up the address my neighbor sent. I’m huddled under a tree, about to turn tail and head back into my building, when I realize the place Todd’s sister recommended is only a few blocks over, off Logan Street. I look down at the heels I never changed out of, then glance at the dog. Lydia assured me he wouldn’t be able to destroy anything from inside the crate, and my apartment didn’t directly suffer this time, but I think she underestimated his ability to destroy my life. I don’t know how I’ll be able to get to work this week without getting evicted, and I’m not about to sacrifice my career—or my apartment—because of an animal I don’t even want.
Rufus looks up from the end of the lead with his tongue hanging out, like he’s just a normal dog and not a demon sent from beyond the grave by my ex to cause further pain. I curse Kyle under my breath, wondering for the billionth timewhyhe did this to me. Then, as the sleet eases up, I tug on the leash and head for a place called K9 Academy.
It doesn’t look like much from the outside when I find it. Just a door on a storefront in the middle of the block. There’s a sign, but it isn’t decorated with bones and paw prints or anything. Just black-and-white lettering and the profile of aGerman shepherd. I’m actually relieved it isn’t overly cutesy. Lydia’s businesses are one thing. But if this place had been called Pawfect Poochie and decorated with pink poodles or something, I’m not sure I could have convinced myself to go in.
Rufus seems eager to check it out as we approach, nose to the ground, sniffing carefully all the way up to the door. I don’t know if they even take walk-ins, but I need someone to teach this dog not to flip out whenever I leave, so in we go.
Inside the door, we find a retail section full of toys and treats and a small reception desk. Beyond that, on the other side of a low wall, is a vast space that feels like a warehouse. The place must span several storefronts. It’s bigger than I expected.
Rufus’s interest skyrockets as soon as we step inside. I adjust my grip on the leash, wrapping it around my wrist a few times as he does his sniff-every-corner thing, tail wagging fast like it’s some kind of game. I can hear voices coming from the warehouse area, but can’t see around the racks of toys and treats at the front of the space. As we make our way toward the empty desk, however, I spot a group of people on the other side of the wall, standing in a wide circle with dogs on leashes around a man giving some kind of instruction.
I brighten. They must be holding a training class right now.
Everyone is quietly focused on the guy speaking, and since no one’s here in reception, I open the little gate next to the desk and slip through with Rufus to join them. As soon as it latches behind us, the tiny white dog closest to us breaks away from the circle and starts lunging at the end of its leash, barking hysterically.
The instant this happens, Rufus transforms from curious companion into a hound straight out of hell, flying to the end of the lead, snapping, snarling, and barking. A number of the other dogs react similarly while their owners struggle for control. And it’s a damn good thing I have a firm hold on the leash because ittakesallmy strength to keep him from swooping into the group and devouring every living creature in the room.
“Rufus, no!” I yell, trying to yank him back toward the reception area.
The woman with the little white dog is screeching. Several other people are struggling with their pets. And the trainer from the center of the group, who doesnothave a dog, comes storming toward me.
“What are you doing?” he snarls. “You can't walk in here with him like that.”
