wouldn’t be enough to keep the doors open, but this month’s dog food was now paid for. That was a relief.
Cece awkwardly pinched the wrinkled paper. “I’ll make sure to pass it along to Doug. What are you doing here? Hiring Will Barnes as your financial adviser?” Bub picked that minute to turn on the charm and batted his eyelashes at Cece like a starlet. She took a step back, but the corners of her mouth turned up.
The dog was magic.
“Adviser? I thought he was some kind of accountant.” Sarah studied the facade of Barnes Financial. She should have asked more questions about what Will did. That might have been the polite thing to do, and it would have given her a better concept of his donation potential. If he was drawing Holly Heights’s upper crust, he could write a check, too.
“According to the gossip at the club, he’s some kind of investment guru. He was part of a big firm in Dallas until he moved to town to open his own office. I keep telling Doug that we might want to find someone local to help with money management, but you know how husbands are.” Cece stopped and patted Sarah’s arm. “Oh, sorry, darling. You don’t know how husbands are.”
Good one. Cece had gotten sharper.
The near-smirk and warm glow in her eyes suggested she knew it, too.
“Maybe you should try the patented moves on Will...” Cece winked. “As I recall, no boy was immune once you turned on the charm. Of course, he’s not a boy, is he? Maybe they’re too weak for men.”
Do not mention my inability to catch a husband again or I’ll...
Bub leaned against her leg, distracting her from plotting mayhem. Woman’s best friend obviously.
Cece was right. Beanpole Barnes had blushed three colors of red if she so much as glanced at him. Will had met her head-on and cut right through her tried-and-true moves. If things were different, that would have doubled her determination. But now she wasn’t sure she could conquer him even with her old wardrobe and her father’s money.
A small part of her understood that the challenge made Will a prize worth winning.
“If you’ve got the time...” Cece held out her hand. “Come to lunch. My treat.”
Sarah wanted to. The chance to sit down at a nice restaurant, eat a meal prepared by someone who knew how to cook and not worry over how she’d cover the bill was seductive. But she had Bub. And these shoes were a torture each second she stood there. “I can’t. I’ve got so much work to do at the shelter, but I meant what I said about stopping by. I’d love to catch up.”
Cece wrapped her arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “I will. I wish there was more I could do to help with your situation.”
Sarah tapped her purse. “You’ve already helped so much. Watch for your invitation in the mail.”
“I’ll warn Doug to start saving his discretionary funds, darling.” Cece blew her an air-kiss and walked away.
“Good news. We’re going to have water for a few more days.” Sarah scratched Bub’s neck, dodged his tongue and enjoyed the brief instant of relief. “Let’s go home.”
He woofed in response and followed her to her car, a sporty black convertible that had been perfect for the heiress to a car fortune. Now it was too small to do what she needed and too paid for to get rid of. Her single suitcase would fit neatly in the backseat when the time came.
“Load up.”
Bub jumped into the passenger seat and Sarah fastened his seat belt in his harness. Shelly had almost had a fit when she’d loaded Bub into her car that morning and nearly forgot the harness. Animal safety was a Big Deal for Shelly. And now that she knew better, Sarah could understand the commitment.
Still, if he was riding shotgun often, Bub was definitely going to need a cool pair of sunglasses.
He could be the shelter’s celebrity spokesdog, cruising around town in a convertible and shades.
Temporarily. Until he was adopted. Until her father came back to Holly Heights. Or she made her escape.
Sarah slid into the driver’s seat with a grateful sigh and thought about taking the shoes off to drive barefoot. Then she imagined the picture she’d present to the policeman who pulled her over. Convertible hair would not be conducive to flirting her way out of a ticket.
The drive to Paws for Love was quick, but when she reached the sign pointing the way to the interstate, she paused and considered her options. It would be so easy to hit the road, but she had no idea where to go. So, it was better to stay in uncomfortable but safe Holly Heights. Her foot eased off the brake, and before she’d managed to leave behind all the bad energy from her run-ins with Will Barnes and Celia Grant, she was carefully negotiating the gravel parking lot in high heels behind a determined Bub.
“Hey, boss, I’m so glad you’re back.” Shelly met her at the door and danced back and forth, agitation clear on her face. “I left some messages on your desk. I’m afraid they’re bill collectors.” She whispered the last two words as if it was a big secret that the place was broke.
She wiped her eyes and Sarah wondered if she’d been crying again. “Fine, Shelly. But I’ve told you not to call me boss, haven’t I? We’re coworkers.” Sarah didn’t pay Shelly, although she certainly deserved more than Sarah’s cheap yet undying gratitude.
Unfortunately, that’s all she had to give.
“Oh, right.” Shelly smoothed her shirt down nervously. “Got time to help with the dogs?” She cleared her throat and tacked on, “Sarah.”
What she wanted to do was say no. Shelly could handle the noise and mess of overly excited dogs while Sarah stretched out on the couch and dreamed of dinner in Austin.
But she’d watched Shelly struggle that morning.
This was something she could do.
“Sure, I know you need to get home on time tonight.” She offered Shelly the leash. “Could you let Bub out for me?”
“Oh, I’m in no hurry. Nothing there for me but sitcoms and leftovers.” Shelly buzzed around her with fluttery hands to take Bub’s leash. When she and Bub walked away, Sarah ran her hand through her hair. Helping Shelly recover from a divorce was not one of her skills.
Right now she had her hands full helping dogs and cats. She’d add encouraging lonely people after she conquered that. Though she was learning more and more about being lonely and discouraged every day.
Sarah jammed her shoulder against the door to the shelter’s office and winced when the warped wood squeaked. “Something else to add to the list of things that need attention.”
First, the shoes. They had to go.
“Don’t knock over the piles.” Sarah scooted between the files on the floor and on the desk to drop down onto the ragged office chair held together with tape and goodwill. Her gusty sigh as the shoes came off could probably be heard miles away.
But the minute she caught her breath, all she could think of was Will’s
