Читать книгу Forever Home - Allyson Charles - Страница 10

Chapter Four

Izzy snuck a grape from the grocery bag on the SUV’s passenger seat and popped it in her mouth. The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky, and for once she didn’t have anywhere to be except home with her daughter to help her work on her homework. She’d finished her proposal on Bob Burker’s properties and put out feelers to interested parties. A condo she’d worked on had closed, and she’d just signed a contract to represent a newly wed couple looking to buy instead of rent. But as their lease didn’t end for another four months, Izzy didn’t have to work nights trying to find them a new home.

She ate another grape and enjoyed the feeling of an evening with no work ahead of her. Ana was singing along to a pop song in the backseat, holding a purple comb up to her mouth like a microphone. Izzy smiled in the rearview mirror. She didn’t get many moments like this.

Her phone rang, an unwelcome interruption. She didn’t recognize the number. Turning down the music, she glanced into the backseat. “I’ve got a call and it might be a client. Can your audition for Idol hold on a sec?” Ana made the motion of zipping her lips and throwing away a key.

Izzy grinned as she pressed the button on her steering wheel to answer. “Izzy Lopez. How can I help you?”

“Hello, Izzy Lopez. It’s Brad Cohen with Forever Friends. How are you doing today?” His voice filled the interior of her car, as warm and sweet as honey in July.

“I’m fine,” she said, wary. He couldn’t know that she was trying to sell the building his shelter was housed in, could he? Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the pictures of the kennels, but the opportunity for interior shots had been too good to pass up.

He laughed. “You don’t have to sound so scared. I won’t grab you again. Not unless you want me to.”

She glanced in the rearview, but Ana was looking out the window, seemingly not paying attention to her mother’s conversation.

“I’ll take a pass on that,” she told Brad. “What’s up?” Please don’t say you called the police.

“Well, Gabe and I decided that you deserved recognition for what you did, and we want to give you an award for outstanding service to the community. Not many people would climb through a window to investigate barking.”

A twinge of guilt fluttered inside her chest. She didn’t think she would have climbed through a window to investigate some barking dogs, either. “An award is completely unnecessary. And besides, you know why I don’t want to call attention to what happened.”

“I’ve thought about that,” he said smoothly. “And whoever left the dogs in the apartment probably left the door unlocked as they left. If you get what I’m saying.”

Ana’s head perked up at the word “dogs,” and Izzy inwardly cursed the man. She fumbled in her purse and pulled out her bag of Goldfish crackers, Ana’s favorite snack. Distraction time. She handed them back to her daughter. “Be that as it may, I don’t want the recognition. If that’s all—”

“You’d also be helping out the shelter.” His voice took on the quality Lydia’s got when she tried to convince Izzy to split a dessert with her. “I thought we could have a little ceremony slash fund-raiser. Put out some food. Get the press involved. Forever Friends could use the support that kind of media attention would give. You wouldn’t want to have saved those dogs just to see them starve, would you?”

Ana gasped in the backseat. The Goldfish hadn’t worked.

Izzy stopped at an intersection and turned. “No one’s starving,” she told her daughter.

Brad thought she was talking to him. “Technically that’s true. I wouldn’t let that happen. But we could use the help.”

Izzy was saved from a response by her call waiting signal. “Brad, I have another call coming in. I’m going to have to let you go.”

“No, I’ll wait.” He sounded confident. Too confident. And Izzy grew suspicious of who was on the other line.

She pressed a button. “Izzy Lopez. How can I help you?”

“Izzy, it’s Liz.”

Her heart sank. So much for a work-free night. “What’s up?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“I just spoke with a Brad Cohen. He said he runs that shelter that’s in Burker’s building.”

“Yeah…?”

“He told me his idea to have a little awards banquet in your honor. You didn’t tell me you found some dogs in the foreclosed apartments.” Liz’s voice was more curious than accusing, but her boss definitely didn’t like being kept out of the loop.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

Ana jumped up and down in her seat, her lips pressed together tight, looking like she was ready to burst. Izzy shot her a look.

“Maybe not, but this Cohen guy seems to think so.” A stapler thwacked loudly over the line. “I think the award thing is a great idea. You should do it.”

Izzy blinked. “You do? But…you know the deal with Burker has to be secret.”

“I don’t see why that issue would have to come up.” Another staple bang. “It would be great publicity for you and Goldstar. Everyone likes dogs. And a story of you rescuing some…Think of all the potential clients who will know your face if it’s plastered in the papers next to a cute dog.”

“Take the picture with the dogs, Mom.” Ana leaned forward and grabbed her shoulder. “I’ll take it with you.”

“That wouldn’t hurt, either,” Liz said, thoughtful.

Izzy might use animals to make a sale, but not her daughter. “Sit back, Ana. Liz, I have to go. I have another caller on the line.”

“Of course,” she said. “Think about the dog thing. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The call clicked off, and Izzy switched back to Brad.

“Hi. You still there?” Maybe he’d hung up and she wouldn’t have to think about it. She liked recognition and free publicity as much as the next person, but the situation just seemed sticky, what with her B&E and her connection to Burker. Also, it was an honor she didn’t deserve, and that never sat right.

Luck wasn’t on her side. “Yep,” he answered. “Was that your boss?”

Izzy turned onto Mayfair Lane, where her house sat. She lived in Pineville, about a ten-minute drive from her office. Her street consisted of tidy two- and three-bedroom single-family residences. Rows of beech trees lined the sidewalks, their branches stretching overhead to form a canopy over the street. “Are you trying to strong-arm me into taking the award? Talking to my boss first wasn’t cool.”

“Your office number is listed first on your business card. She picked up.” There was a smile in his voice. “But she seemed most enthusiastic about the award ceremony once I laid it out for her.”

Sneaky bastard. Izzy turned into her driveway and put her SUV in park.

“Come on down to the shelter and I can explain my idea more fully to you. And if you’re still not convinced, I’ll take you out to dinner and use a different set of persuasive skills.”

A squeal came from the backseat. “Can we go see the dogs, Mom? Can we, can we, can we?”

Izzy winced. Brad laughed. “That must be Ana. I didn’t realize I was on speakerphone. If you’re in your car, point it toward Forever Friends. I have lots of furry companions to introduce to your daughter.”

Ana bounced up and down. “Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.”

Brad joined in the chant until Izzy couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough! Ana, mind your manners. And, Brad, stop riling up my daughter.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “As penance, I’ll take you both to the Pizza Pit after you visit the shelter.”

Ana cheered, and Izzy dropped her head back on the seat rest. Puppies and pizza? She couldn’t fight that.

She put the car into reverse and backed into the street. “We’ll be there in fifteen,” she told Brad and signed off.

Ana cheered.

Looking into the rearview mirror, Izzy put on her best stern-mom face. “We’ll go, you’ll play with dogs, we’ll eat pizza. But we are not, I repeat, not, getting a dog.”

* * * *

Izzy covered her ears; Ana’s high-pitched shrieks were enough to shatter glass. A dog on a ratty green sofa howled in harmony. Ana threw herself on the ground next to the dog bed that cradled the five puppies Izzy had found.

The mama dog raised her head from her paws where she lay in the corner of the kennels, made sure Ana wasn’t going to hurt her pups, and settled back down with a sigh. Even after just two days, she looked like a different dog. Her skin wasn’t hanging quite so dramatically over her bones, and her fur was clean and brushed.

Ana picked up a little brown puppy and rubbed her nose against its muzzle. The odd one out, the one who had caused Izzy all the trouble, clambered over the edge of the bed and stuck its front paws on Ana’s sneaker. Ana cooed and picked up that scamp, too.

Izzy sighed. They were going to be here awhile.

“Shall we talk about the fund-raising banquet?” Brad asked. Izzy nodded and turned toward the door to the exam room, expecting to go to his office. Brad didn’t follow. He strode to the corner of the kennels and plopped down next to the boxer mix. He pulled a dog cookie from his front pocket and held it out to the mama dog.

Izzy weaved her way over to them, forging a path around groups of rollicking dogs. “Oh, we’re going to talk here?” At least she could make sure Ana didn’t get into trouble. She bent her knees, and her pencil skirt rode up an inch. Tugging it down, she twisted and tried to gracefully lower herself to the ground without exposing herself.

Brad watched her maneuver, his smile growing.

Putting a palm on the cement floor, she fell to the side and landed on her hip. She smoothed her skirt back down her legs. “So, what’s your big idea?”

The dog sniffed the air near the treat but lowered her head without eating it. Brad placed it on the floor in front of her.

“I don’t think she likes your cookies.”

“She doesn’t trust the cookie-bearer is the problem.” Brad fondled the dog’s floppy ears. “But we’re working on that, right, girl?”

The dog looked forlorn, her brows arching up and twitching. Izzy’s fingers itched to comb through her soft fur. Instead, she laced them together and rested her hands in her lap. “Tell me about this award idea.”

“Sounds like I finally caught your interest.” Brad grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and something tugged deep inside Izzy. His eyes weren’t the green she’d first thought, more hazel with bands of chestnut circling his pupils. His sandy blond hair was a little ruffled, as if he’d been running his hands through it, or maybe rolling around with his dogs. His smile was impish and his hands gentle as they soothed the boxer.

All in all, not the sort of man she should be attracted to. If she ever found the time to date, she needed someone solid. Dependable. Not an irresponsible boy toy, sexy as he might be.

Izzy rested her back against the concrete wall. “I’m interested in marketing. I don’t think I deserve any award for finding a bunch of dogs, but if it will increase my business and get you some donations, I don’t see the problem.” She looked around the kennels, smiled when she saw Ana lying on the ground with four puppies on her chest and stomach. If Burker sold his property and Forever Friends got booted from this building, Brad would need all the financial help he could get. She’d seen the rent he was charged. Brad would be hard-pressed to find a better deal.

“Have you ever thought about moving the shelter?” she asked hopefully. “The space seems a bit small for your needs.”

“Nah. Who has the money or time to move?” He crossed one long leg over the other, stretching them out in front of him. “This place suits us fine.”

“Surely you must have some sort of reserve fund in case of emergencies.” Like getting kicked out. Unlike some of Burker’s other tenants, Forever Friends was renting month-to-month. Bob wouldn’t have to buy out a lease or give Brad much notice if he sold.

He shook his head. “Why hold on to money that could be used to help my dogs? I don’t believe in keeping big bank balances.”

Izzy blinked. “Are you kidding me? You don’t think it’s important to save? To prepare for the future?” He really was a toddler in adult clothes. “That’s completely irresponsible.”

His easy smile flashed again. “You’re such a mom.”

Izzy opened her mouth, but he held up one hand. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with that. I know you have to take care of your daughter. But money’s not everything. People really don’t need much to be able to enjoy life. Enough to put a roof over your head and food in your belly, but the rest of your happiness is up to you. Life is too short to waste clawing for every penny.”

Wriggling her shoulders against the cool concrete wall, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d like to hear you say that again in your retirement years. I think you’ll be kicking yourself that you didn’t put some aside.”

“You’re much too serious, Isabelle Lopez.” Rolling to his feet, he strode to the basket of dog toys and pulled out a frayed rope. He walked to Ana, bent down, and gave it to her. “The puppies seem to love playing with this,” he told her. He picked up the black-and-white puppy that was gnawing on the hem of her jeans at her ankle and came back to Izzy.

He sat cross-legged in front of her. “No one can be serious when looking at this much cuteness.” Holding the pup under his belly, Brad lowered him to his mother’s face for a lick and then held him up to Izzy. The little dog held its paws out rigidly, waving them in circles, like some weird interpretive dance, and the edges of Izzy’s mouth twitched.

“That doesn’t look comfortable for him.” Placing one hand under the puppy’s bottom, she used the other to pry him from Brad’s grip, then cuddled him close to her stomach. He was awfully cute. And soft as cashmere. “What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have one yet.” Brad stretched out next to the mama dog, lying on his side and looking up at Izzy. “None of the dogs you brought in do.”

“Can I name them?” Ana piped up.

“No,” Izzy said at the same time Brad said, “Sure.”

Izzy leaned toward Brad. “If she names one, she’ll want to take it home,” she hissed.

He flashed his pearly whites. “I know.”

“We’re not getting a dog.” She said it loud enough for Ana to hear, as well as any of the dogs who might be looking at her like she was a meal ticket.

“They do need homes.” Brad lost his smile and grew serious. He rubbed his chest, his fingers splayed wide, his large hand spanning from the “S” to the “E” on his Michigan State T-shirt.

Izzy swallowed. A serious Brad was even sexier than a playful Brad.

“The puppies we’ll have no problem adopting out. They’re adorable.” He rubbed a hand down the mama dog’s rear leg. “But this girl here will be tougher.”

“Wait, you’re going to split them up? She won’t see her puppies again?” She glanced at Ana, and that tiny bud of dread inside her flared to life. She walked around all the time with the fear that if she didn’t take care, didn’t provide, she could somehow lose her daughter. She rubbed her damp palms on her skirt. She was being stupid. Of course all six of the dogs wouldn’t be adopted together. That wasn’t practical. But…“She can’t even keep one of her babies?”

“She could.” Brad stared at her, raising one golden eyebrow pointedly. “If someone with a big heart was willing to adopt her and one of the little guys.”

Izzy stared at the dog lying next to her, the puppy snoozing in her lap. Her chest burned. They seemed like nice enough dogs. And—

She stabbed a finger at Brad. “You’re the devil. I am not getting any dogs.”

“We’ll see.” Standing up, he brushed his hands together and held one out to help her up. He called over his shoulder. “Ana, why don’t you name the new dogs and then we’ll go get some pizza.”

Ana cheered.

Izzy took his hand and pulled herself up. She brushed dog hair off her butt and glared at Brad.

Yep. Definitely a devil.

Returning the puppy to his bed, she hurried Ana through the naming process. She did her best to ignore how adorable all the names were, then grabbed Ana’s hand and fled from the kennels.

She also did her best to ignore the chisel of guilt chipping away at her resolve. She wasn’t abandoning the dogs; they weren’t hers to abandon.

She must have done a decent job at all that ignoring. She only gazed back at the shelter twice while buckling Ana into the car. The Pizza Pit would be safe, she told herself. It would be a dog-free zone. No sad eyes to tug at her heartstrings.

She sped like hell away from the den of temptation and breathed a sigh of relief. Until she remembered. There would be one more temptation to overcome. And unlike the puppy, Brad didn’t strike her as the kind of man who’d let a woman put him to bed and then allow her to just walk away.