“The big guy is Athos.” He gestured to the German shepherd. “The Labrador is Porthos, and—”
“And let me guess, the Chihuahua is Aramis.”
He smiled in return. “Good guess.”
“The Three Musketeers.”
“After watching them together for a while, I could come up with no better names.”
“Did you get them all at the same time?”
“Yes, and…” His smile faded. “And all were meant to be bait in dog fights.”
She glanced back at the dogs resting on the porch. Only Aramis seemed to be aware of their presence. He lifted his little head and sniffed the air. Satisfied with what he found, he plopped is head back down on the deck.
“When they were rescued, they were all slated to be put down for different reasons. Aramis there was deemed in too bad a shape to survive. Athos had become extremely aggressive and Porthos is said to have psychological problems.
“Even though they thought I was crazy I talked the rescue shelter into letting me adopt them. I brought them home and worked with them. With a little love, time and attention I made them into the worthless fleabags you see before you.”
She laughed. “Wow, what an improvement.”
His smiled faded. “Actually, it is.”
He crossed the yard and once he came into their line of vision all three dogs rose to greet him. “My point is that with a little love, time and attention I think any dog can be retrained.” He sat down on a stair and the dogs surrounded him, with Aramis wiggling past the two bigger dogs to climb onto Dusty’s lap. “You just have to give them a sense of security and safety. Something these dogs had never had.”
Mikayla followed him to the porch and the three dogs wandered over to sniff out the stranger. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t give you the impression that I doubted your level of compassion. I don’t. It’s just…” She paused, petting Porthos’s soft gold head and thinking of how much to say to this man who was still a stranger. “Just like you chose their names because it suited them. I named her Angel for a reason.”
Dusty watched her as some light of recognition came into his eyes. “I understand.” He nodded. “Just give me two weeks and see if you don’t see a world of difference.”
She frowned and rubbed Athos under his furry chin.
“What?” Dusty was watching her with narrowed eyes. “What are you thinking?”
She shrugged. “It’s just—I know Angel, and she has a tendency to be…how do I put it? Stubborn.”
Dusty smiled. “So am I.”
“And don’t let her scruffy appearance fool you—she’s very intelligent.”
“Most dogs are.”
“And—” Mikayla found herself wanting to warn Dusty but was unsure of the words “—she can be a bit sneaky.”
He smirked. “Again, most dogs are.” He leaned forward. “Look, Mikayla, I haven’t met a dog I couldn’t train, and I’m sure Angel will be no exception.”
Mikayla thought about her resourceful dog and all the clever little stunts she’d pulled over the years on dog sitters and dog trainers alike. She already knew it was going to be a long two weeks. Still, she decided, this man seemed different, and therefore deserved the benefit of the doubt.
She forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Chapter 4
“Dusty Warren?” Kandi Martin, Mikayla’s literary agent and manager, took another bite of her Caesar salad, a slight frown creasing her brow. “I’ve heard that name before, but I can’t remember where.”
“Well, he’s well respected in his field and Angel’s last, best hope.” Mikayla took another sip of the cheese soup she’d chosen as an appetizer. “You should see his facility. It’s really state-of-the-art. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Kandi glanced across the table at her friend. “Sounds like an interesting man. Is he married?”
Mikayla returned the glance, knowing what her friend was asking. “Don’t even go there. This is just about Angel.” She shrugged. “Besides, when would I have time for a man?”
“Some things you make time for.” Reaching into the basket on the center of the table, Kandi took a roll and tore it in half. “It’s about balance.” She held up the two parts of the roll. “The ying and the yang. Work versus play. If you ask me, you have way too much of one and not enough of the other.”
Mikayla reached across the table and snatched one of the halves. “Well, I didn’t ask you, did I?” To emphasize her point, she bit off the roll before placing it on her soup saucer.
As the waiter arrived with their entrées, and removed the soup and salad dishes, Kandi dug around in her large tote bag. “By the way, I received this the other day.” She handed Mikayla an elegant cream envelope.
“What’s this?” Mikayla opened the envelope and read the enclosed card. It was an invitation to speak at an AKA dinner at Bethune-Cookman University. “Oh, definitely.” She handed the invitation back.
“That’s another one of your problems, you spend too much of your time in all-female groupings. How are you gonna meet a potential lover like that?”
“First of all, let me restate, I am not looking for a lover. Second, it’s not my fault mostly women show up for my lectures.”
“Riiiggghhhttt,” Kandi muttered, cutting into her chicken parmesan.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kandi looked up at her friend with a tilted head and a knowing expression. “Come on, this is me you’re talking to. Don’t try to tell me you don’t enjoy getting up in front of a group of women and giving your little I-am-woman-hear-me-roar pep talk. You love it.”
“If by that you mean, do I enjoy empowering women who have been victimized in their own lives for far too long, then yes, I do.” She leaned forward, feeling defensive about her work. “And if my book can help even one woman regain control of her life, then—”
“Hang on, Sojourner.” Kandi held up her hands as if to ward off an attack. “Don’t get me wrong, I love what you do.” She reached across the table and took Mikayla’s hand. “And more importantly, I understand why you do it. I’m just saying you need more in your life than just this…this one-woman crusade you’re on.”
Mikayla sat back in her chair. “I do have more in my life than that.”
Kandi’s mouth twisted in a smirk. “Correction, more than a crusade—and a mangy mutt for companionship.”
Mikayla frowned. “She’s not mangy, she just has weird fur.” She shook her head in confusion, her mind running
