Page 37 of Love in Training
“I had to turn down a standard poodle from the waitlist last week when he snapped at Henry’s Frenchie.” She points to the top of my bookshelf. “Why is his Kong toy up there?”
I follow her gaze to the ugly cone-shaped rubber thing she ordered. “He just kept flinging it around. It broke my favorite coffee mug.”
“It should settle him down if you’re filling it with stuff he likes.”
I blink. “I’m supposed to put something in it?”
Lydia releases a slow breath, the way she’s been doing since she and Anton started childbirth class. Then she reaches on her tiptoes to retrieve the dog toy and carries it to the kitchen.
“You can fill it with food, treats, peanut butter... if you stick it in the freezer overnight, it will keep him busy even longer.” She rummages through my pantry, pulling out ingredients, then systematically loads them inside the red toy. When she’s done, she offers it to Rufus, who immediately stops pacing. He circles the apartment once with it in his mouth, but does not whine. Then he jumps on the couch with it and starts working to get the food out.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I had no idea peanut butter was the answer to all my problems.”
“It’s good to entertain him, but I doubt it will help if he’s left alone,” she says, hoisting herself awkwardly onto a barstool. “How’re you holding up with work?”
I plop onto the seat next to her, relishing the momentary lack of noise. I didn’t even realize how pervasive the whining was until it stopped.
“Uh, pretty sure Randall knows I’m not sick. But he also knows I have a lead on a big potential story, so I think that’s keeping him off my back.”
“The one about Unmatched?” she asks.
I flinch when she says the name, even though she doesn’t. No memory stays with you quite like telling your best friend you found her husband on a cheating app.
“Yeah, that one.” I swallow. “Actually, the founder’s wife got in touch with me.”
Her eyes widen. She folds her hands protectively over her belly. “That sounds significant.”
I nod. She knows I don’t like to share tons of details when I’m working on a story, but right now it’s a relief talking it over with someone I don’t need to explain it to. Sadly, Lydia has more intimate knowledge of Unmatched than most people.
“I’m still trying to figure out the best approach.”
“And the safest one?” she adds.
I nod without meeting her eyes. “I have to admit, I’m a little freaked out. I mean, it seems like there’s a level of safety in exposing the guy. But I don’t think I should count on that.” I grit my teeth. “I just don’t want to blow the opportunity. Randall promised me a raise, but also...”
“Also?” she prompts when I trail off.
“I don’t know.” I exhale. “He keeps whispering in my ear about my potential. He even suggested I’m good enough forDenver Editorial.”
“You are,” she says without hesitation. “Even I can see how a story like this would do big things for your career. But you’re right to be careful.”
One of the best things about Lydia is that she never purports to know what’s best for me. She’s been as freaked out as Theo about some of the harassment and email messages, but she never suggests I write about something else. She knows where my passions lie. And while it’s clear she worries about me, I appreciate her faith in my choices.
At least when it comes to anything besides dogs.
“But I can’t do any of this if I can’t leave my apartment.” I cut a glance at Rufus, who’s still licking at the peanut butter.
She crosses her arms over her belly, clearly weighing several options before meeting me with a reluctant gaze. “I hate to say it, but the trainer you met with was probably right. You need a behaviorist.”
I bristle. When I look at her, she bites her lip, and that’s all I need to understand exactly what she’s thinking.
“No.”
“He’s the best in town, Caprice . . .”
“I don’t care. I amnotasking that guy for help.”
“Maybe you could just do a consultation?”
