Her phone buzzed with an incoming text.
SIMON: Don’t be scary.
SIMON: Don’t let Killer jump on her.
SIMON: And don’t forget to smile . . .
Alison rolled her eyes and shoved her phone away. What did he mean, don’t let Killer jump on her? Killer couldn’t knock over a flea. She scooped up the little dog and nuzzled her in. “So here’s the thing, K. You’re it for me. I love you to the moon and back. But let’s face it, we can be scary. We’re going to fix that, okay?”
Miss Kitty harrumphed, but when Alison looked at her, the old woman was paying her no attention at all.
Killer licked her cheek gently, her eyes warm with affection.
“Okay then, it’s a deal,” Alison said, smiling. “We’re both working on us.” If only it was as easily done as said. She set Killer down. “We’re going to practice on our hopefully new client. No barking, no growling. Got it?”
Killer cocked her head to the side.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll behave too. We just have to realize that our fear of rejection is all in our heads.” She pulled out her phone again and brought up her notes app to look at the list she’d copied and pasted in for herself. I WILL make a good impression. I WILL be receptive. I WILL smile and be nice. I WILL make a friend today. She looked at Killer, who seemed doubtful.
“Whatever. It’s happening.” She kept pacing, continuing her pep talk, her words echoing off the walls, the click of her heels as she paced matched by Killer’s little doggy nails tapping on the floor as she paced with her. “And hey, next time we go to the dog park, maybe you can find yourself a real friend too, instead of being the fun police all the time.”
The front door opened. Alison turned and then froze in disbelief. Because damn, it was . . . “Emmie Harris,” she heard herself say dully.
Emmie had gone statuelike as well. “It’s Emma. And I did not see this coming.” She shook her head. “Did not see this coming.” She shook her head again, looking like she’d just eaten something sour. “Ali Pratt. Who’d have thought?”
“It’s Alison.” She too sounded like she’d eaten something sour, but being face-to-face with the unexpected blast from her past had knocked her off her game and sucked the air from her lungs.
“You’re Simon’s cousin?” Emma asked, clearly hoping there was some mistake.
Alison wished there was. “Yes.” She shifted her attention to the hugest dog she’d ever seen, sitting at Emma’s side, a St. Bernard the size of a VW.
“Hog,” Emma said by way of introduction.
Alison nodded numbly, feeling like that hurt high school girl all over again, filled with an immature sense of hate and jealousy that she’d thought she’d long since gotten over.
Apparently not.
The thing is, Emma had zero reason to feel the same. It’d been Emma who’d ruined Alison’s life, not the other way around. She opened her mouth to say hell no, get the hell out, there was no way she’d take her on as a client, but Killer, who’d been growling low in her throat at Hog, escalated to barking. “Killer, stop. Killer, sit.”
Killer did not sit. She charged forward, her little paws gaining purchase on the concrete before Alison could catch her.
The St. Bernard yelped and hid behind Emma.
This didn’t stop Killer. The little thing flew after the bigger dog, chasing it around Emma in tight circles. Well, at least Killer went in tight circles. The clumsy St. Bernard couldn’t get traction on the concrete, not to mention was lead-footed as . . . well, a St. Bernard. Giving up, he stopped short, lifted a leg, and . . .
“No!” Emma yelled. “Hog, no!”
Too late. Hog peed all over Killer.
“Oh my God!” Alison gasped, surging forward, but Killer was safe from the big dog, who was now running toward the door.
“I’m so sorry!” Emma called out, but before Alison could tell her where to shove that apology, Emma caught up with Hog. Dropping to her knees, she winced as if that movement hurt like hell, then wrapped her arms around the big guy and hugged him tight. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
Wow. Okay, so she wasn’t apologizing to Alison or Killer, she was apologizing to her big oaf masquerading as a dog?
Emma looked up. “I’m his emotional support.”
Alison just stared at her in disbelief.
Emma kissed Hog on his massive head and said, “Stay, baby.”
Hog sat. Stayed.
Emma moved to Killer and started to scoop her up.
“I wouldn’t,” Alison warned. “She doesn’t like being picked up. She can get nippy with strangers, and—”
And nothing, because Emma had Killer in her arms. Not only did Killer not bite her, she instead immediately stopped growling and barking. What the actual hell?
Emma moved through the place like she already owned it, vanishing into the back.
Seriously, what the hell? Alison followed and found Emma and her dog at the wash station. Her nemesis was carefully checking the water temperature, then in less than five minutes, she had Killer bathed and wrapped in a towel. Impressive because she did most of it with her right hand, as if her left arm wasn’t a part of her body. Something niggled at her about that, but Emma was cuddling Killer into her, distracting Alison. Her dog—so named because she was a warrior who hated everyone equally—gave Emma the moon eyes and . . . laid her head on the woman’s shoulder.
“Aw,” Emma said, stroking her. “What a sweet girl.”
Killer was a lot of things. Too smart for her own good. Independent. High maintenance. But sweet? No. And frankly, Alison was boggled as Emma handed over Killer and then grabbed a mop and went back out front to clean up the mess on the floor.
Okay, fine. So Emma knew her stuff. Maybe she’d make the perfect person for this building. Maybe. She followed Emma out, watching as she waved at Miss Kitty and got a warm wave in return.
Huh.
“She comes with the place,” Alison explained. “Not negotiable.”
“She’s welcome,” Emma said in a tone that made Alison’s spine go ramrod straight.
Miss Kitty bowed her head at Emma, for a beat actually looking sweet and compliant. Feeling oddly jealous, Alison crossed her arms. “Okay, I feel behind. Catch me up. You and Simon are . . . what exactly?”
“He’s my PT.”
The memory concerning Emma’s arm suddenly clicked in for Alison as she flashed back to the news stories about Emma’s accident.
Killer, who’d caught sight of Hog again, now standing as close to the front door as he could get, was back to growling low in her throat.
“Stop before you get peed on again,” Alison told her.
Killer did not stop.
Emma headed toward Hog—the strangest name for a dog Alison had ever heard—and glanced at Killer on her way. “Hush now. I know he’s scary big, but I promise you, he’d never hurt you.”
Killer leapt from Alison’s arms right into Emma’s, while Alison just stared because her dog—whom Alison counted on to hate everyone—had just made a friend before her.
Emma kissed Killer’s cute little face. “Sweet girl. I’m going to set you down now, and you’re going to be nice to my baby. There’s enough love for everyone here. Yeah?”