Forever Home Page 8

  Ana’s lower lip quivered.

  Dax slid his butt on the concrete to sit closer to Ana. He didn’t touch her but displayed his solidarity with her all the same.

  Izzy advanced a step. “When we get home, we are going to have a conversation about what you can and can’t do. Number one, you can’t decide not to go to practice without telling me. Do you have any idea how worried I was when Mr. Gallagher called and said you were missing?”

  “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” Tears rolled down Ana’s face. “I didn’t think he would notice I wasn’t there. And I was going to walk home before you got back. I didn’t think you’d know I was even gone.”

  “You didn’t think, that’s for sure!”

  Brad stepped forward, his chest tight, and squeezed her shoulder. He knew Ana deserved a dressing-down, but her tears were killing him. Dax’s clenched lips said he felt the same way. Maybe it was a guy thing, not being able to watch a little girl cry.

  Izzy glanced back at him, and hissed out a breath. Her shoulder softened from rock hard to only semi-tense beneath his hand. “Okay, get your things together and we’ll discuss this at home.”

  Ana nodded, her face a picture of misery, and hiccupped.

  Dax rubbed her back. “Vi hasn’t been eating much, and Ana is the first person she’s taken a treat from. Can she feed her a couple more?”

  Brad narrowed his eyes. For someone who’d only been working at Forever Friends a day, their new volunteer was acting like he knew an awful lot about their dogs. Even if he was right about Vi, Izzy wasn’t going to appreciate the interference. In fact, any second now, she was going to tear—

  “Five more minutes.” Izzy walked to the group and dropped to her knees beside Vi. Plopping down onto her thigh and hip, she tucked her heels up under her. She gave a quick tug to Ana’s ponytail, then stroked Vi’s back. The dog tolerated it but didn’t seem impressed with the effort.

  She and Ana fed Vi two more biscuits. The black-and-white pup, whom Ana had named Jasmine for some god-awful reason, crawled to his mom and chewed on her ear. Izzy scooped him up and cradled him under her chin.

  Brad widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. A smile tugged at his lips. Izzy might not know it, but she’d just sealed her fate. She was now, and forever more, a dog person. And Vi and Jasmine were homeless no longer.

  Brad joined them on the ground, sitting cross-legged. “You finish the website yet?” he asked Dax.

  The man sent him a sour look but pushed to his feet. He placed one of his puppies back in the basket but kept ahold of the other one. The pup lay over Dax’s forearm like a wet towel, his little legs hanging down on either side, his head sacked out on Dax’s wrist. “This guy is going to keep me company,” he said, and walked out of the kennels.

  “How often do you have practice, Ana?” An idea had popped into Brad’s head, and he liked to run with his ideas.

  “Tuesday and Thursday. Games are Saturdays.” She swiped the back of her hand under her nose.

  “What do you do after school the rest of the days?”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes Aunt Lydia picks me up and takes me to her winery. Or I take the bus home.”

  “We have some nice neighbors who keep an eye out for her.” Izzy smoothed a lock of hair behind Ana’s ear.

  Brad glanced at Izzy, hoping to gauge her reaction. “Well, how about you come here some days after school? We’re always looking for volunteers to play with the dogs and walk them.” It seemed the perfect idea. Ana would love it. She’d be watched over. And Izzy’s gratitude could only mean good things for him. Fun, naughty things.

  Except she didn’t look grateful. She pressed her lips together and breathed heavily through her nose. It was a struggle, but Brad kept his gaze above her heaving chest. She was delightfully jiggly in certain places, and heavy breathing looked good on her.

  “Uh, problem with that idea?” he asked Izzy.

  “Can I, Mom? Please, please, pul-leeease!”

  “What about your homework?” Izzy asked.

  Hanging her head, Ana tugged on a loose bit of rubber on the sole of her sneaker. “I need your help on that stuff anyway. You know I’m no good at reading. I don’t get much done before you get home.”

  Brad’s heart cracked open a little. “I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I’m a whiz at math and science. Former engineer and all.” He leaned forward and scratched Vi’s chin. “And I’ve even been known to read a book or two. When it’s not busy here, I can help Ana with some of her homework.”

  Cradling Jasmine with one hand, Izzy pushed herself up. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  Brad followed her across the room. Stephanie leaned into his thigh, and he gave her a good chest rub. “You don’t like the idea?”

  “You’re running a business here.” Izzy shook her head. “Not a daycare. Ana will be in your way.”

  “I was serious about needing volunteers. We just got Dax, but we can always use another dog walker. It’ll be great.”

  “You don’t know that.” Jasmine wriggled in her hands, and Izzy stroked his fur. “It’s a crazy idea.”

  “A fun idea.”

  “Impulsive.” She slid a sideways glance at her daughter, and bit her lip.

  Brad stepped in close. “Look, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll let you know. No harm, no foul. But it’s something she could put on her college applications, right? She volunteered at a dog shelter.”

  Izzy raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “You did not just drop the college application card. She’s nine.”

  “Never too early to think about it.” If he knew Izzy at all, he assumed she’d been thinking about Ana’s education since her birth. “Come on.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “You’re like the little red devil on my shoulder.” She blew out a breath. “Fine. She can come here. But I need to give you something in return. Childcare is expensive, and you can’t just give it away.” Softly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she stared into the distance, then nodded once. “How about I help you with your marketing? With the awards banquet, and with a campaign going forward? That’s a big part of my job. Not to toot my own horn or anything,” she said dryly, throwing his words back at him.

  Brad chuckled. “That would be great. But I had something else in mind if you’re determined to pay me back.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” she muttered.

  His grin widened. “You have a dirty mind, Isabelle Lopez. But you’re wrong.” Sort of. Of course he wanted her. But he wouldn’t trade for it. Turning her by the shoulders, he faced her toward her daughter and Vi. “What I want is something I think you’d secretly like, too.” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “See how happy your daughter is with Vi? And Vi needs a home. At her age, she could be stuck at the shelter for a very long time. With no one to love her. No babies to take care of. No one for her to love.”

  “That’s low.” She cocked her head to the side and slightly jutted her chin. A sure sign of annoyance, but as it exposed more of her smooth neck to his view, Brad didn’t mind all that much.

  He brought his nose close to her throat, close enough to feel the heat rolling off her skin. She still smelled of flowers, but there was also a hint of something citrus. “Give her a chance and she’ll be your best friend,” he said in a low voice. Time to turn the screws, for a good cause, of course. “And she’ll be someone to watch over Ana when you can’t be there. Teach her responsibility and compassion.”

  “You’re evil.” Izzy turned her head, and the hair twisted into a neat little updo brushed across his jaw.

  He stepped closer, fitting his front to her back. Skimming his hand down her arm, he rested it on her hip and squeezed.

  “Does evil win this time?” There were so many things he wanted to talk this woma
n into. And out of. But a dog was a good first step. Vi would be good for Izzy, and Izzy for Vi.

  “Yes, damn you. I’ll take the stupid dog home.” She turned, and her breasts brushed his chest. Her eyes flared, and she quick-stepped back. She held up Jasmine, as a barrier or something else, Brad didn’t know. “And I’m taking this one, too. She can’t have all her puppies taken away from her.”

  Brad valiantly tried to hide his grin. Really, he did. But it was no use. He hooked his elbow around Izzy’s neck and tugged her toward her daughter. “You’re such a softie. I knew it. I can’t wait to see Ana’s face when you tell her.”

  “If you have any earplugs, you should put them in.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Now, about this marketing offer…”

  He completely deserved the elbow she planted in his ribs.

  Chapter Seven

  This was a mistake. Ana had a hard enough time when they read together each night. She’d been diagnosed with a mild form of dyslexia at age six and hated it when Izzy forced her to read before going to bed. But Izzy insisted. Not only did Ana need to improve, but it was time together that she treasured. They would lie snuggled together in Ana’s twin bed, no distractions, and Izzy wasn’t willing to give that up.

  But now they had distractions. The new cell phone was bad enough. Not wasting any time, Izzy had headed for the mall in Clarion Township and bought her daughter a phone. Ana had wanted one just like Izzy’s, down to a matching purple cover. After Izzy had installed an app letting her and Ana know each other’s whereabouts and told her daughter in her best stern-mom voice that any texts, calls, or internet browsing were subject to maternal scrutiny, she’d turned it over to her eager daughter. It had been in Ana’s hands ever since.

  Except when her new puppy was there instead.

  The dogs were an even bigger distraction than the new phone. Exasperating. Furry. Adorable. Distractions.

  Jasmine pounced on Izzy’s sleeve, wriggling his little black butt as he bared his tiny fangs.

  Ana giggled, tossing her book to the side to pull the puppy away from his new chew toy.

  Izzy dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling. “We haven’t even read five pages yet. These dogs can’t get in the way of your learning.”

  “He’s just a baby. He doesn’t know any better.” Sliding down on her pillow, Ana held Jasmine over her head, making zooming noises as she pretended the pup was flying.

  Izzy gave up. She took the book from Ana’s bed and snapped it shut. “Is he going to sleep in your room tonight?”

  “Every night.”

  “You know he has to sleep in his crate until he’s house-trained, right? He can’t sleep in your bed.”

  Ana pouted. “Can’t we just put a diaper on him? Locking him up seems mean.”

  “He’ll be fine.” And Izzy would be up all night. There was no way Ana would be woken just by a puppy whining. Rocket fire wouldn’t rouse that girl. And at her age, she shouldn’t be getting up in the middle of the night anyway. It was up to Izzy to make sure her carpets didn’t get piddled on.

  Which led Izzy back to her original thought. Taking the dogs was a big effing mistake.

  “Say good night to the dog,” she told her daughter, waited for the inevitable five minutes of cooing, cuddles, and kisses. Then she placed the puppy in the crate Brad had given her and turned off the lights. “Night, baby.”

  “I’m not a baby anymore.” A yawn punctuated the words, and there was no heat like there usually was when Ana said them. Sliding her new phone off her nightstand, Ana tucked it against her chest. Izzy figured the phone and dogs would buy her a good week of Ana thinking her mom was the greatest before the preteen attitude returned.

  She dropped a kiss on Ana’s forehead, then crept out of the darkened room. The lights were still on downstairs, and the glow coming from below was enough to find the staircase and make her way down.

  Vi was curled into a ball against the front door. Her brows twitched, and she eyed Izzy warily. At least that one she didn’t have to worry about training. Vi was guarded enough not even to want to make a sound, much less a mess. She’d eaten a couple bites of food, which was a step forward, but trust would be harder to come by.

  Kneeling by the dog’s side, Izzy cautiously stroked her back. “I’ve got your dog bed set up in the family room. Want to come join me while I work?”

  Vi huffed out a breath and closed her eyes.

  A no, then.

  “Suit yourself.” With one last scratch, she rose and walked into the family room. It was combined with the open-design kitchen, painted in a soft peach, and Izzy’s favorite room in the house. A sliding glass door led to her small, half-moon-shaped backyard, and when she worked at home, she preferred to set up on the family room’s scarred wooden table and look out onto her rose bushes rather than sit in the small bedroom that she’d turned into a home office.

  The motion-sensor floodlights flashed on, and a deer, motionless, was illuminated on the back lawn. His ear twitched, and he darted away, leaping over the four-foot fence. After ten seconds, the lights blinked off.

  That was another reason she liked to work with a view outside. The wildlife in rural Michigan was spectacular.

  There was half a cup of coffee in the pot from this morning, and Izzy poured it into a mug and stuck it in the microwave. She’d lost a lot of work time this afternoon, first looking for Ana and then getting prepared for a houseful of dogs. She needed to make up some hours.

  Settling at the table, she woke up her laptop. She sent an email to Mrs. Gianapolis, apologizing and asking for another meeting. Then she got to work. She’d promised, grudgingly, to help Brad with his PR, and from what she saw of his website, he needed it. Aside from the site, which looked like it hadn’t been updated in twenty years, Forever Friends had no social media presence. Not even an Instagram account. How was he not posting pictures of cute dogs all day long? People ate that stuff up.

  Shaking her head, she jotted down notes on ideas for marketing, the issues she saw with his current setup, and suggestions for improvements. A half hour later she received a text from one of her coworkers. Cindy had only received her real estate license two months ago and was still learning the ropes.

  Izzy rubbed her forehead. Cindy needed help with a new client she was meeting Saturday morning. It was a more complicated deal than the newbie had ever been involved in, and she was offering to split her commission if Izzy partnered with her for the sale.

  It would be a good commission, even split two ways. But Ana’s soccer game was Saturday morning, and Izzy had her own showing that afternoon, which would mean a whole weekend day away from Ana.

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Crap. She couldn’t turn down the money. And she liked Cindy and wanted to help her out. Her stomach churned, and she pushed her coffee aside. Ana was going to be disappointed. Again. But if she wanted to keep playing soccer, Izzy needed to keep making money to pay for the league. Life was a series of trade-offs, and cold hard cash was usually the best bet. A mother couldn’t buy food for her daughter with fun times and weekends together.

  Pushing her regret aside, she texted Cindy back. She’d meet her bright and early Saturday morning at their office.

  She rested her face in her hands and prayed the adoption of Vi and Jasmine was enough to earn her forgiveness for this latest absence. The back of her throat ached, and she tried to swallow past it. Nine-year-olds didn’t understand about 401(k)s and college funds. Mortgages and property taxes. They did understand how crappy it felt when Mom didn’t show up to cheer them on at soccer games.

  Izzy could only pray that Ana would realize that all the missed games, all the afternoons Ana came home to an empty house, everything Izzy did, it was all for her.

  And if Izzy reminded herself of that enough times
, maybe she’d figure out a way to forgive herself, too.

  Chapter Eight

  Brad didn’t know whether to curse Izzy or fall before her on his knees in gratitude. It had only been a day since she’d agreed to help, and already she’d created a Facebook page for Forever Friends, complete with an event page for the banquet, convinced the local radio station to advertise the fund-raiser for free, and emailed him a detailed list of all the other social media accounts he needed to create, with instructions.

  She’d also sent over the two infuriating women who were currently camped out in his office. Izzy had said they would be able to help fix his website, but he knew better. This was his punishment for convincing her to adopt Vi and Jasmine.

  Deborah Garcia held up the half open bag of cheese puffs. “Are you sure you don’t want any?” she asked, and rubbed at a patch of orange dust on the paisley blouse that stretched tightly across her round body. With her head lowered, Brad could see through her thinning hair to the pink scalp below.

  “I’m sure.”

  Eugenie Shaw, Debbie’s partner in crime, turned from his computer screen. “Hit me.” She opened her mouth, and Debbie popped an orange puff between her lips. “Thanks.” She turned back to the screen and shook her head, her steel-gray curls quivering. “The problem goes deeper than just your website design. You’re using the oldest web host known to man, and your operating system is four upgrades behind.”

  Brad scratched his jaw. “I know I’m out of date.” Hell, this was the computer he’d had in college. “But I don’t think I need a fancy website. People just need to know what we are and our phone number and address. I’m not selling a product.”

  “Wrong, boyo.” Eugenie tapped an orthopedic-clad toe on the ground. “You’re selling yourself. Your image. And if you want to move these poor dogs out of here, you’ve got to do a better job with your image.” Bending over, she scratched behind the ear of a mutt that had to be four-fifths hair. Eugenie had brought her own dog, Shep, with her, but he seemed happier lying at her feet than playing in the kennels with the others. “I’ve thought about getting another pooch, but I think Shep would be jealous.”