So, how could it have been a mistake to create him?
When will I stop making myself pay for something I don’t regret doing?
Snippets of so many of the long talks she’d had with her aunt circled in her thoughts. “You don’t need a man.” “You’re better off on your own.” “You’ve come too far to throw away your dreams for a man.”
How did I not see that her voice had become the one in my head?
I’m sorry, Aunt Rudi, I don’t believe I have to be alone to be successful.
I’m so grateful for the support you gave me. I’m not you, though. I don’t want to be alone.
Yes, this is risky, but maybe, Aunt Rudi . . . maybe sometimes taking a risk turns out to be worth it. I have to believe that.
And I refuse to live in the past. I’ve given those idiots back home too much space in my head. That ends now.
She grabbed her purse and rushed from her office to Kimmie and Linda’s. “Where is Connor’s photo shoot?”
“There’s a car waiting for you downstairs,” Kimmie said with a huge grin that was mirrored on Linda’s face.
“Don’t forget to pick Whitney up from school,” Linda said.
“I’m sure this won’t take—It’s not like we’re not going to—I’ll remember, thanks,” Angelina said with a smile as she turned on her heel and rushed down the hallway. She didn’t want to miss any of the months, either.
Chapter Eleven
Dressed conservatively in a navy sheath dress with matching jacket, Angelina felt out of place as soon as she was greeted by a young receptionist in oversized pants, a white T-shirt with a black vest. There was probably no more than a five-year age difference, but looking at the other woman made Angelina wish she’d worn her hair in a less severe style. She caught a reflection of herself in the glass of a large window. I look like a tax collector.
Or a building inspector.
What am I doing?
“You must be Miss Kroll,” the receptionist said with a smile.
“I am.”
“Mr. Sutton told me to bring you right in. Isn’t he the best? When I heard he was making a calendar to raise money for local animal shelters, I considered asking him to marry me right then, but then he told us to watch for you. I’m sure there are other gorgeous, successful, socially conscious men out there.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know you, but I hate you a little bit. Follow me.”
They walked through a door into a large open loft that was divided into monthly sets. One had sand and a beach chair. Another had a tree with bright yellow and orange leaves.
“Looks like he’s still in the winter area. I’ll tell him you’re here,” the woman said.
Giving into a burst of uncertainty, Angelina said, “No. I don’t want to interrupt. Would it be okay for me to watch for a few minutes, and I’ll just announce my presence when he takes a break?”
“Whatever. He’s going to be so happy to see you. I hope they catch that moment on film.”
Angelina’s stomach quivered at that. Everyone seemed to think Connor had feelings for her. They saw a softer side than he’d shown her. Which was the real him?
Following instructions from the receptionist Angelina headed to January and froze when she saw Connor. He was in bright gold bathing trunks beside a fake snowman. The photographer asked him to pick up a snowball and throw it. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest and he seemed to move in slow motion, muscles bunching as he did. His smile was natural and Angelina knew which calendar every women would be buying for Christmas. God, the man was perfection.
“Okay, release the puppy,” the photographer said. “Let’s see if we can get a shot of him catching that snowball.”
The hundred pound or so Saint Bernard that bounded toward Connor from off set didn’t look much like a puppy. Connor called to it then tossed what looked like a white tennis ball into the air. The dog ignored the ball and launched himself up as if expecting Connor to be able to catch him.
Angelina held her breath.
Connor’s eyes widened and he shifted his weight. The sound of the large dog slamming into his chest was followed by exclamations from onlookers. “Easy boy,” Connor said with a laugh that boomed through the room.
A handler came rushing in. “I’m so sorry. We’ve been working on his jumping. It’s why he was returned to the shelter. Jumping puppies are cute when they’re little. He doesn’t have a lick of aggression in him, but he scared his first family because they couldn’t control him.”
Connor held the massive puppy away from his face to evade its enthusiastic tongue. “What’s his name?”
“Button. He was the smallest in his litter. His family thought that meant he wouldn’t get that big, but he’s nowhere near done growing.”
“Hi, Button. Who’s a big scary dog?” The puppy whined and squirmed, trying to lap at Connor’s face. “Not you. Are you going to be good if I put you down?”
The wild whoosh of the puppy’s tail made no promises.
“I can use this as well,” the photographer called out. “Get out of the shot, Martin.”
The handler stepped off set.
Gently, Connor lowered the puppy onto its feet. “Sit.” The pup’s behind approached, but didn’t touch the floor. Tongue hanging out, it seemed to be smiling up at Connor. Surprisingly, Connor was smiling right back.
Connor crouched with his hands on his thighs. “Who wants to catch a tennis ball? Do you want to catch a tennis ball?”
When the puppy launched upward, Connor laughed and stepped back. “Not me. A ball.” He picked another fake snowball off the ground and waved it in front of the dog. “See, this is a ball.”
The puppy continued bouncing in place. When Connor tossed the ball up in the air, the pup launched itself forward and used Connor’s chest as a springboard to jump higher. Taken unaware, Connor stumbled backward and landed on his back in a pile of snow. Tennis ball in mouth, the puppy pounced him.
There was a real joy to Connor’s laughter that made it impossible to not laugh along. The dog was utterly ridiculous and Connor was loving it. If Angelina had thought Connor was attractive before, he was now jaw-dropping off-the-charts her type.
“Good boy,” Connor said as he sat up and took the dog by the face. “You caught it. Good dog.”
The puppy whined again and gave a full body wiggle.
“No more,” Connor said firmly as he pushed the pup off his lap. “Sit.”
Unbelievably, ball in mouth, the puppy did as Connor asked.
Connor stood, brushed the fake snowflakes off him and smiled at the puppy. “I’m the alpha in this relationship. I know, I know, it’s not fair, but I have opposable thumbs and you probably still shit on the rug. I stopped doing that years ago, which puts me at an advantage here.”
“He likes you,” Martin said as he stepped onto the set again.
So do I.
“I grew up with a Newfoundland. I still miss her. What is a dog like Button doing in the city?”
Martin shrugged. “People don’t think decisions through sometimes. I bet he was cute at eight weeks old.”
Connor gave the pup a pat on the head. “He’s cute now, just big.” He bent again to pet the pup. Button rolled onto his back and Connor gave it a hearty rub. When he stood, Button leapt to his feet, but before he jumped Connor told him to sit again then praised him when he did. “Tell me if he doesn’t find a good home. I know people who would love him.”