the bad guy.”
The dog didn’t move—he sat there all hunched, as if the weight of the world was just too much for him.
Jasper thought longingly of his quiet house, the sameness of his life when he was home. He had friends, but on his terms. He had relationships with women. Sort of. He just wasn’t like everyone else and wanting to be different didn’t change the truth.
The dog raised his head and looked at him. In that moment when their eyes met, Jasper would swear he saw down-to-the-bone sadness and despair. It was so real, so visceral, that he felt the anguish as actual pain.
The door to the exam room opened and a petite, pretty, gray-haired woman in a white coat entered.
“I’m Dr. Anthony,” she said with a smile. “For once all my techs are busy and I’m free.” She crouched down and gently patted the dog’s back. “Hey, old guy. How are you? Where’d you find him?”
“At an RV park a few miles from here. They told me he was abandoned a few weeks ago. Apparently he’s been avoiding people, except to beg for food, but he came right into my vehicle.”
Dr. Anthony petted him a little more, before running her hands up and down his legs and along his back as if gently checking for wounds or injuries.
“People can be cruel,” she said as she stood. She pulled a handheld device out of her coat pocket and turned it on. “All right, let’s see if you have a chip.”
Jasper found himself tensing, not sure if he wanted the dog to have one or not. Dr. Anthony ran the reader back and forth a couple of times, checking him closely, then straightening and shaking her head.
“No dice,” she said. “I didn’t think so. Someone who cares enough to get a microchip doesn’t walk away from their pet. Sally said you were going to take him to a shelter?”
Jasper hesitated.
Dr. Anthony gave him a sympathetic glance. “Look, it’s better for him to be there than on the streets. We have a good one nearby. They’ll take care of him. He’s not your responsibility. You did the decent thing, bringing him in. That can be enough.”
Which sounded like permission to do what he knew made sense. Great. He would take the dog there and be on his way.
He opened his mouth to ask for the address, but what he said instead was, “What if I wanted to keep him?”
“You sure?”
Jasper looked at the dog, who stared back at him. He thought about his house up in the mountains and how every now and then, the quiet got to him. He thought about the loneliness he’d seen in the dog’s eyes.
“No, but I think giving him a good home is the least I should do.”
Dr. Anthony smiled. “Okay, then. Are you from around here?”
“California. I’m heading home today.”
“Then I would suggest a brief exam to make sure he’s relatively healthy. I can give you a collar and leash and food that will be easy for him to digest. When you get to your place, find a vet and get him a more thorough exam. You and your vet can discuss what to do as far as vaccinations. He’ll need a few chew toys, maybe a ball and a bed of some kind. He’s an old guy, so he’s going to want to take things easy. Still interested?”
“I am.”
“Good. Now why don’t you put him on the exam table there and we’ll get started.”
“IT MIGHT JUST be okay,” wedding coordinator Renee Grothen murmured softly to herself as she surveyed the wedding reception. She wouldn’t risk admitting everything had turned out as planned until the last guest had left, but four and a half hours in, things were going really well.
Jim and Monica Martinez were a sweet couple with a fun firefighter theme for their big day. There was a long tradition of firefighters on both sides of the family and plenty of cute touches in the wedding and reception.
Monica’s dress laced up the back and instead of white ribbon to cinch her gown, she’d used bright red. The centerpieces were ceramic boot vases painted to look like firefighter boots, filled with red, orange and yellow flowers. There was even a walk-through fountain at one end of the reception area, created with fire hoses, a pump and a lot of engineering.
Renee walked around the perimeter of the indoor reception space, looking for problems. So far, so good, she thought with cautious optimism. The cake had been cut, the bar service was about to end and the tone of the party had faded from raucous to comfortably tired—exactly as it should. With a little luck, things would wrap up on time and without a crisis. This was Monica and Jim’s day—Renee wanted it to be as perfect as possible. While she always took care of her clients, she tended to unleash her mother bear instincts for her special couples and Monica and Jim certainly qualified.
She spotted Pallas Mitchell, her boss, walking toward her. It was nearly ten on a Saturday night and Pallas, a pretty brunette only recently returned from maternity leave, yawned widely. When she spotted Renee she held up her hands, palms up.
“What can I say? I’ve been home with an infant. These wild late-night hours are going to take some getting used to.”
“No one’s judging,” Renee told her. “As I said at seven, at eight and again at nine, go home. I can handle this. You’re barely back and you need to give yourself time to adjust to the schedule.”
“You’ve been running things for nearly six months. You need a break.”
In truth, Renee was a little ragged around the edges, but she’d loved handling Weddings Out of the Box while Pallas had been gone. She’d enjoyed the challenges each unique wedding presented and watching all the details fall into place on the big day.
“I had lots of help,” Renee pointed out. “Hiring college students on summer break was a good idea.” And what they’d lacked in experience, they’d made up for in energy and enthusiasm.
“Now that I’m back, things can return to normal,” Pallas said, covering another yawn.
“Go home,” Renee urged. “Please. I can handle things here. I promise.”
“Okay. I will. Thanks. Don’t you dare come in tomorrow.” Pallas’s voice was firm. “For once, we don’t have a Sunday wedding. Enjoy the break.”
“I will.” Renee would probably pop in to do a little paperwork, but she wouldn’t stay long. “Are you coming to The Boardroom on Monday night?”
In a wedding destination town, the rhythms of the residents were determined by weekend weddings. Happily Inc’s workweek started on Wednesdays as the businesses geared up for the dozens of nuptials that occurred in multiple venues. Which meant the town’s Friday night was actually on Monday.
The Boardroom, a local bar, hosted game nights on Mondays. Board games ruled and tournaments were heated and fun as friends crushed each other at everything from Candy Land to Risk.
Pallas shook her head. “I’ll admit to being a
