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  Tariq stood and held out his hand. Bob pushed to his feet and grabbed it. The men gave a solid shake, and Izzy gritted her teeth. She got up and snapped her portfolio shut. “Since you seem to be leaning toward selling, can we officially put your lots on the market? It would give your tenants time to look for new facilities.”

  Tariq snorted. “Give them time to clean up their act?” He shook his head, one shiny lock escaping the rigid left-of-center part. “No, I’d recommend keeping this off-list until the last minute. Then we’ll inspect all your units and see if we can catch anyone violating the terms of their lease.”

  “Yeah, I don’t want a lot of phone calls from my tenants right now.” Bob scratched his bristly jaw. “I’ve worked hard for forty years, and now I want as little fuss as possible.”

  “Of course.” Izzy escorted him out of the conference room and to the front door of the office. “But please don’t get your hopes up about avoiding lease buybacks. It’s not as easy to prove a breach of contract on your tenants as Tariq might have implied. And you could lose more in legal fees than you would gain in sales price.”

  “Well, that’s why I hired you people. To figure this stuff out for me.” Pulling sunglasses from his shirt pocket, Bob stepped outside. “We’ll talk again in two weeks.”

  She waved goodbye through the closing glass door, then turned and dropped her smile. Digging her nails into her palms, she marched through the office and back to the conference room where Tariq was shuffling some papers into a folder.

  She shut the door behind her with a decided thwack. “Where the hell do you get off trying to steal my client? Not only that, but feeding him a line of BS that would lead to five different lawsuits?”

  He sat back at the long table and raised an eyebrow. “Calm down. There was nothing I said that wasn’t technically true. No need to get your panties in a bunch.”

  Izzy figured if she blinked enough times, the red haze in her vision would eventually dissipate. It didn’t. Tariq shifted, looking uncomfortable, and Izzy almost felt sorry for him. She’d been told that a righteously pissed-off Izzy was a sight to make men’s knees tremble.

  She took a step forward. “You didn’t accidentally run into my client,” she said in a voice that started low but kept on rising. “Nor did you accidentally tell him your half-assed ideas. It was a blatant attempt to steal him away.” This would be her biggest commission to date. One that she’d earned, damn it. She’d put in all the hard work. No way in hell was Tariq going to steal her daughter’s college education fund. She poked a finger at his face. “Now, if you want to see someone’s panties get in a bunch, try something slimy like this again. I can assure you that I will twist your tighty whities so hard, you’ll be choking on your own balls!”

  “Izzy!” The voice came from behind her, and with shoulders slumping, Izzy slowly turned around. Yep. Her boss had just heard that.

  She could all but feel Tariq gloating behind her. “Hi, Liz. What’s up?” Could she bluff her way through this?

  Liz set her jaw. “You and Tariq. In my office. Now.”

  Apparently, she couldn’t.

  She ignored the other agents’ curious glances as she and Tariq followed their boss to the back of the office. Liz closed the door behind them. “Have a seat, you two.”

  Izzy planted her butt in one of the chairs in front of Liz’s glass-topped desk as Tariq took the other. Their boss circled around and took her own seat. “Now. Care to explain what’s going on?”

  Izzy had a whole truck-load of grievances she’d love to dump on her boss. But the no-tattling rule she’d learned as a child held true today. Complaining about her coworkers rarely accomplished anything except making her look unprofessional.

  She smiled tightly. “It’s nothing Tariq and I can’t work out ourselves. Just a difference of opinion when it comes to client management.”

  “I heard you threaten Tariq.” Liz picked up a pen and tapped it against the palm of her other hand.

  To his credit, Tariq also seemed to play by the old-school playground rules. “That was just a joke. Izzy didn’t mean it as a threat and I didn’t take it as one. We’re fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Liz tossed the pen down and scooted her chair closer to her desk. “Because there are certain steps I’d be required to take by law if one of my employees is harassing another.”

  Izzy’s heart pounded. Yes, she’d shot her mouth off, but she couldn’t lose her job over it. Could she? “Tariq and I are good,” she said quickly. “Really, you just heard something out of context.”

  Resting one ankle on the other knee, Tariq settled deep in his chair. “Yep. Izzy and I are so good, we’re teaming up on the Burker project. Fifty-fifty split of commissions if the sale goes through.”

  Izzy gasped, but quickly recovered. “We haven’t yet decided on the commission breakdown.” She ground her jaw. “But we are teaming up.”

  “Great.” Liz tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and settled back into her leather chair. “I like it when my agents work together for the common good. And, Izzy, seeing as you’re so busy with Ana, getting some help on such a big project was smart.”

  Tears of frustration burned behind her eyes, but she nodded. She always put in a full day’s work, even if some of that time was spent working from home. But everyone at the office seemed to see her as the single mother who slacked off to attend to her daughter. And on the home front, Ana and Izzy’s friends thought she spent too much time at work, making her feel like she was failing in the motherhood department. The tug-of-war between parenting and her career was frustrating and exhausting. She was failing Ana for a job where her sacrifice didn’t seem to be appreciated.

  She stood and lifted her chin. “I have to get back to work on that ‘big project.’ If you’ll excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, she strode from the office and made a beeline for the bathroom. She would not cry. At least not in front of anyone.

  A head full of tight gray curls popped up in her way. “There you are, missy,” Eugenie Shaw said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Wrapping her left arm around her middle, Izzy released a long breath. “Hi, Eugenie. What can I help you with?”

  “I’m here to help you.” The older woman tugged on the brim of her cloche hat. “I need ten minutes of your time.”

  Ten minutes when she was already behind on her work. Tariq brushed past her, giving her his stupid little smirk, and that was it. She needed a break from the office. To hell with more missed time. “How about a walk?” She went to her desk and pulled out her purse, tugging the long strap over one shoulder.

  “Sounds good. Debbie’s outside with the dogs.” Eugenie pulled a piece of candy from her pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth. The scent of peppermint accompanied her next words. “We can take them around the block.”

  Pushing her sunglasses up on her nose, Izzy held the door open for Eugenie and followed her out into the morning sun. She bent and greeted Shep and one of Vi’s pups. “Hi, Debbie. How’s this little guy working out for you?”

  “He’s a dear.” Debbie scooped him up and rested him on her impressive bosom. “And he loves to play with Uncle Shep.”

  “Harass and annoy, more like,” Eugenie muttered. Still, she ran a finger along the puppy’s silky ear. She took Shep’s leash from Debbie’s hand and marched down the sidewalk.

  Izzy fell into step next to her, with Debbie strolling behind. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” She smiled hello to Mr. Jones, who was sweeping the sidewalk in front of his clock shop. He nodded and narrowed his eyes as Shep and his thirty pounds of hair waddled past.

  “We’re starting a blog for Forever Friends, and I want to interview you for it.”

  Izzy sighed. More publicity for something she didn’t earn. On the other hand, if she was going to be losing part of her commission on the Burker deal, she was g
oing to need all the PR she could get. And wouldn’t it just piss Tariq off when client after client called wanting the woman who rescued dogs as their real estate agent.

  She set her shoulders. “Sure. Fire away.”

  Eugenie pulled out a tablet and started tapping away. “What were you doing in the vicinity of Newgate Apartments at approximately three in the afternoon on the Monday you found the dogs?”

  Izzy’s step hitched, and she looked at the woman warily. “Is this an interview or an interrogation?”

  “Who, what, where, when, why, and how,” Debbie said from behind. “Kids these days don’t know how to write proper articles anymore and forget the big six.”

  Izzy attempted a light laugh. “But this is for a shelter blog, not some hard-hitting news piece. Surely you just want some fluff information.”

  Eugenie tipped her hat up and eyed her. “Is there some reason you don’t want to tell us why you were there? I’ve heard that some agricultural sales go down in those abandoned buildings, if you know what I mean.”

  They turned the corner, and Shep sniffed at a fire hydrant.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Izzy said. “I was going to Bert’s across the street when I heard the barking.”

  “It would have made a better story if you had been buying drugs.” Debbie put her pup on the ground to follow Shep. The little guy didn’t move. She scooped him back up. “A down-and-out user whose life turned around when she found starving dogs. Now that’s a story.”

  “Would have been more believable, too.” Darting a glance at Izzy from the corner of her eye, Eugenie sniffed. “Did you know Bert uses margarine instead of butter? Disgraceful.”

  So that’s why their coffee cake tasted funky. “Margarine is better for heart health,” she said weakly. “Now. Next question.”

  “Can you describe the condition of the dogs when you found them?” Eugenie tipped the screen of her tablet out of the glare of the sun.

  “Not good.” Izzy swallowed, hating to remember how skinny Vi had been. She was definitely filling out now. Usually ignoring her own food and stealing what was left unattended on the table. Or the counter. And though Izzy didn’t have proof, she swore that dog had learned how to open up her refrigerator and rifle through the contents.

  They rounded the corner and headed toward her office. Izzy looked at the glass office door that would take her back, back to where she earned her paycheck, back to where she spent too many hours away from Ana, and she suddenly didn’t want to return. Didn’t want to work next to that snake, Tariq. She wanted to go home to her dogs and to be there to welcome Ana when she came home from school.

  She turned at the door. “I’ve got to get home. Why don’t you email me your other questions?”

  “Okay, hold on,” Eugenie grumbled, and passed the leash to Debbie. Holding her phone up, she said, “Say cheese,” and took a snap of Izzy. “Send me pictures of your dogs now so everyone can see how well they’re doing.”

  Izzy nodded agreement.

  “And I suppose we’ll see you at the banquet?” Eugenie asked.

  “Yes, I’ll see you two there.” The banquet was another obligation, something her guilt and her boss had pressured her into. But Brad would be there. And he could make anything fun.

  “Three.” Eugenie patted her hip, and Shep waddled over to her side. “Judge Nichols is taking me, and Debbie’s joining us.”

  Debbie didn’t look happy with that arrangement.

  “Then I’ll be sure to say hi,” Izzy said. “We single ladies need to stick together.”

  “You’re not going with Brad?” Debbie cocked her head. “I thought you two were…”

  “No. He hasn’t asked me.” Which, now that Izzy thought about it, was a bit odd. He’d asked her out almost every night, and she was starting to get used to it. Did he not want to commit to a date more than two days in the future? Was he worried he’d be bored with her by then? Her stomach pinched. Now she really wanted to see her dogs. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go grab some things at my desk and run. I’ll see you later.”

  She hurried to her desk and picked up some work. She nodded goodbye to Cindy, ignored Tariq, and escaped to the parking lot. She climbed in and tossed her stuff on the passenger seat.

  Leaning her forehead against the steering wheel, she counted off all the ways this day was sucking. Tariq horning in on her client. Her boss hearing her threaten said horner-inner, potentially putting her job at risk.

  Brad not being as interested in her as she’d thought he was.

  God, she was an idiot. She didn’t want a relationship and hadn’t yet decided if “fun” with Brad was worth the risk. But here she was mooning over him like some fifteen-year-old ninny. She was a mature woman, a mother, and it didn’t matter if Brad grew tired of her in a week, like a video game he’d already played out.

  She thunked her head on the wheel. It didn’t matter.

  Her brain wasn’t doing a good job of telling her body to suck it up. She still felt queasy, and a tiny spot behind her breastbone ached with the thought of Brad’s exit from her life. Sighing, she started her SUV and headed toward what she knew would make her feel better. In a very short time she’d learned that when everything else in the world was falling apart, her dogs would always be there to cheer her up. Even mopey, distrustful dogs like Vi.

  Unlike most things in life, it turned out her dogs were worth every penny she spent on them.

  * * * *

  Brad shook the bank manager’s hand but couldn’t match the man’s smile. His mother used to tell him that if he smiled when he was sad, his mood would turn around. But it wasn’t in him today to fake something he wasn’t feeling. Stalking to his truck, he shrugged off his blazer and tugged at the knot of his tie, yanking it off his neck. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he tossed the garments and his folder of financial documents next to him and gripped the steering wheel.

  Damn it. He’d needed that loan. The plumber had capped the busted pipe, so they had water flowing everywhere else but the exam room. They could limp along, but that would only last for so long. The plumber estimated eighty percent of the pipes needed to be replaced. And if Brad wanted the job done right, they should be replaced with copper.

  Brad didn’t need the job done right, not when he rented, but he would need a fully functioning exam room. And he didn’t have the twelve thousand the plumber had estimated for repiping even with the cheaper material, not if he still wanted to feed his dogs, pay his rent, and buy medical supplies.

  His stomach rumbled. Just another thing to be pissed about. Dax had snagged the last goddamn doughnut that morning, and Brad hadn’t had time to eat between running home to shower off the night’s filth, organizing the shelter’s P&L and balance sheet, and making the appointment with the banker. He’d been grateful the bank manager had been able to fit him in that morning, but maybe it would have been better to wait to be disappointed. Another day of hope would have been a wonderful thing.

  Another rumble filled the cab of his truck. “Fine, I hear you.” Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed Izzy’s number. When she answered, he didn’t waste any time. “Have you eaten yet? I want to take you to lunch.”

  “No, but I really don’t have time—”

  “There’s always time to eat.” He checked his watch. “But if you’re worried, I can bring something to your office and we can eat there.”

  “I’m at home. But—”

  “Even better.” He cranked the engine of his truck, and the tension in his shoulders started to ease. If just her voice worked like a relaxant, he couldn’t wait to see her face. “I’ll get some sandwiches at Soup’s On.”

  “But—”

  “I know they’re known for their soups, obviously, but they do great sandwiches, too. You should know that, Izzy,” he chided. “The restaurant is in Pineville, your neck of the woods.
”

  “Pineville is in everyone’s neck of the woods. Crook County is all neck. We’re not big enough to have any other body parts.”

  Brad chuckled. Damn, he couldn’t wait to see her.

  She sighed. “Brad…”

  “Please, Iz.” He didn’t like the pleading sound in his voice but was too tired to paper over it. “I want to see you. Maybe get your advice on something.”

  She was silent for a moment, then, “All right. See you in a bit.”

  Brad cranked his window down as he drove and hoped the wind brushing across his face would knock the cobwebs from his brain. The all-nighter of physical labor was catching up with him, but he hadn’t been lying about wanting Izzy’s opinion. He had to be realistic about his upcoming fund-raiser. It wasn’t going to be enough to cover all his bills. But maybe she had some other ideas on how to raise money.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have scoffed over her philosophy of socking money away for a rainy day.

  On autopilot he bought the sandwiches and made his way to Izzy’s house. She lived on an unassuming street, but all the residents kept their small yards neat and their houses coated with fresh paint. Pulling into her driveway, he cut his engine and rested his head against the headrest. Her house was one of only a couple on the street with a second story. The outside was painted a light blue, with navy shutters surrounding every window. It was nothing like the six-bedroom Tudor he’d grown up in, but what Izzy’s place lacked in square footage, it more than made up for in warmth and welcome.

  This was a house a kid was lucky to be raised in.

  Climbing out of his truck, he trudged to the front door. His feet felt as heavy as lead blocks, but he was eager to see Izzy again, so he pushed them to move faster. He raised his hand, but the door swung open before he could knock.

  Izzy opened her mouth to speak, her cheeks a delightful shade of pink, but pushed past him with a scowl as a plump bundle of fur rushed past and made a break for the porch stairs. Jasmine paused at the top, poked one paw in the air toward the next step, drew it back, tried another before Izzy scooped him into her arms.