Standing in the entrance to the rescue center, Aiden surveyed what once resembled a reception room. Frown lines creased his forehead. “Been redecorating?”
“There was a break-in,” Piper said.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I was going to call you once we had it cleaned up. I guess I thought you’d be busy, you know, with businessy things,” she said lamely. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It wouldn’t have been a bother. I was already on my way here.”
“You were?” Her heart did a funny flip in her chest. She hoped he came to see her, but the last time she thought that he’d come for a dog. Plus he owned the place. Business, not pleasure, she reminded herself.
“Yeah,” he said. “I brought a present.”
“A present?” Okay, so there was pleasure.
He propped the door open and disappeared outside. That’s when she realized why Aiden had taken them all by surprise. A thin chain above the door swung back and forth, burdenless; the little brass bell itself was gone.
She searched the floor until she found it. It was smashed in, flattened like someone had stomped on it. Holding it up, she tried to make it ring. It gave a single pathetic thunk before the clapper clattered to the floor.
Piper recalled the day eight years earlier when its sweet ring had welcomed her into the center for the first time. She hadn’t been looking for volunteer work. She was looking for a dog named Jack. Jack was a ten-year-old piebald dachshund. Her dachshund. Or rather, he had been before her mother gave him up.
Back when Piper had been busy taking her high school exams, her mom went on ahead to San Francisco to get things ready for their big move. She’d taken Jack with her. It turned out their apartment had a strict no-pets policy. And it wasn’t like they could find a different one because they’d lucked out: their apartment was rent-controlled. Not wanting to upset Piper before graduation, her mother had secretly given Jack up at a local rescue center.
When Piper arrived a few weeks later to find Jack missing, she was furious. She’d practically grown up with Jack. Hadn’t she lost enough as it was?
Once she’d learned which rescue center he’d been dumped at, Piper stormed in there and demanded her dog be returned. But the Englishwoman who ran the place said he’d already been adopted. Of course he had been. He was a great dog.
Piper had felt like she’d finally lost everything. It was just her and her mom left, a few pieces of furniture that fit the two-bedroom apartment, and Mr. Wiggles, her childhood teddy bear. But there was something about being around dachshunds that made that loss a little less painful. As though she still had some connection with Jack, with her old life, by reminiscing about him with the other “guests,” as the Englishwoman referred to them. Piper could imagine that they remembered their time with him and could share those stories with her.
So she returned to see them, week after week. And soon it was no longer just about Jack. It was about the other doxies, about finding them good homes, like Marilyn had done for Piper’s Jack, for so many other dogs over the last thirty years.
When Aiden returned, he was carrying a hefty box. Despite his well-used gym membership, he looked to be struggling with it. Piper placed the bell on the desk and hurried over to help him carry it into the kitchen. They slid it onto the vintage table and stepped back.
“What is it?” Piper asked.
“It’s a new fish tank.”
“Really?” She beamed up at him, surprised by his thoughtfulness. “That’s so sweet.”
“I’m glad to see the ladies are still alive.” He tapped on the coffeepot.
The goldfish were gliding around their temporary home, bumping into one another in the cramped quarters.
“I’m sure they’ll be happy to get out of there,” Piper said.
Aiden stepped back out into the reception room. He assessed the damage, scowling as he read the message scrawled across the yellow wall. “One week until what?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” she said.
“I guess I should have picked up a couple gallons of paint too on the way.”
“The damage is mostly cosmetic. It won’t take much to cover up the graffiti and get things back in order.” She just hoped that in a week they wouldn’t have to deal with it again. Or worse. The first warning flashed through her mind. Get out! Or I’ll make you.
Aiden slipped off his sports jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Well, where do I start, boss?”
She held up her hands to wave him off. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Piper.” Grabbing her gently by both wrists, he gave her a strange look. “I’m free to help. I don’t mind.”
“But we’re fine.”
He waved a hand at the sorry excuse for a reception area and raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re not fine.”
A chuckle tinted his voice, like she was a hippo claiming to be a cockatoo. It made her muscles tense with indignation, like it was an accusation of sorts. That he thought she couldn’t take care of herself, that she needed help.
“Hey, Pipe.” Zoe gestured out the front window. “Looks like the news crew is here. Are you ready for your television debut?”
“You called the news station?” Aiden asked.
“Why? Do you think it’s a bad idea?” she asked. It suddenly occurred to her that she should have asked his permission first, since it was his property.
“Not at all. I think it’s a great idea to create awareness. Dogs in danger? It’s easy to appeal to the public’s emotions when animals are involved.”
“See? I told you,” Zoe said. “Pathetic sells.”
Piper narrowed her eyes. “Are you talking about the dogs or me?”
“I think I’ll go help Addison fill the reporter in.” She winked and headed outside.
Piper twisted and untwisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to do this.” It might have been her idea in the first place, but she’d expected to be the brains behind the operation. Not the poster girl for it.
“You’ll do fine,” Aiden said.
He stepped closer to her, enough that she could smell his aftershave. She took a deep breath through her nose until her lungs were filled to capacity with Aidenness. It made her a little dizzy.
“What’s important is that you’re passionate about these dogs. That much is obvious. I’ve seen it myself, and it will come across to the viewers.” He gripped both of her shoulders and gave them a squeeze.
She was nodding. Not because she agreed, but because her head was so full of the delicious scent of his aftershave and she was wondering if he’d just brushed his teeth, because the air was crisp with mint as he spoke, and would his mouth taste like spearmint too? And God, his hands were big. How good would they feel touching parts of her other than her shoulders?
Heels clicked up the front steps and through the entrance, jarring Piper from her Aiden-addled thoughts. In strolled the Holly Hart, stylish in a fitted pale pink blazer and black jeweled Manolo Blahniks, with her cameraman in tow. She clapped her hands as though to get the attention of a bustling newsroom. All it did was get a bark from Colin.
“Okay, let’s get started,” she said. “Who’s doing the interview?”
Piper took a deep breath and stepped around the desk. “I am. I’m Piper Summers.” Taking a page out of Aiden’s book, she shook the reporter’s hand—fake it till you make it. “Nice to meet you.”
“Holly Hart. Channel Five News. That’s not what you’re wearing, is it?” Her nose wrinkled, as though Piper not only had bad fashion sense but smelled funny too. Achoo! Holly sneezed, not once, not twice, but three times.
Colin barked, Bless you!
Holly sniffed. “Damn allergies.”
“You’re allergic to dogs?”
Aiden huffed behind the counter. “Or just about anything with a heart.”
Holly turned toward his voice. Noticing him for the first time, she gasped and shoved Piper aside. “Oh, Aiden Caldwell.” She said his name like she was ordering a warm fudge brownie with gelato. “What a coincidence seeing you here.”
“Miss Hart,” Aiden replied in a clipped tone.
“Are you sure you don’t want to do the interview?” she purred, slinking close to him. “I’ve been trying to nail you for a while.”
Zoe raised her eyebrows at Piper, like “Who does this chick think she is?” But Piper was still licking her lips, thinking about mint, and belatedly wondering what was wrong with her outfit.
“No, this is all Miss Summers. I’ll be taking the sidelines for this one. My PR people handle that kind of thing.”
“I know.” Holly pouted like a disappointed trout. “They’ve stopped answering my calls.”
“Maybe it was due to the last piece you did on me,” he said coolly.
She laid a hand over her heart. “Hey, I’m just doing my job. I’m the voice of the people now.”
“Yeah, well, it was a little over the top.”
“I was concerned for a poor workingman’s rights,” she said, undeterred.
“And so you chose a disgruntled ex-employee to represent those concerns?”
She shrugged, a coy smile threatening the corner of her mouth. “How was I supposed to know that source was lying?”
“You’re a reporter.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s your job to check your facts.”
“Sounded plausible to me.” She ran a familiar finger down his silk tie and he stiffened. As did Piper. “Besides, you weren’t available for comment.”
“And I’m still not.” He took a step back. “I believe you’re here on other business.”
“All right, fine.” She dropped the sexy veneer like a fluff piece at deadline. Her voice was now brusque and severe, like the harsh smell of nail polish. “Now do we have a dog we could use? Like a supersad dog. It would be better if he was missing an ear, or a leg, or an eye, or something. All three would be best.” She looked delighted at the thought.
Zoe leaned over to Piper. “I told you so.”
“Yeah, I’ll go grab Charlie,” Addison said, and slipped into the back.
“Hey, you!” Holly Hart barked at her cameraman. Snapping her fingers, she began to order him about, getting him to test the light so that it highlighted her best feature—which was clearly her sparkling personality.
She took out a mirror and checked her lipstick as he set up the shot. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection, then Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!
Gesundheit! Colin barked.
Aiden watched on with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Piper sidled closer to him.
“She seems”—she hesitated—“friendly. Do you know her well?”
“Just from the press room.” Piper liked the way he said it: firmly enough to assure her he and Holly had no history. Like it was any of her business to know. Not that she cared, or anything, but she couldn’t help the little “Woohoo!” that shot through her brain.
Addison returned with Charlie limping at her side. Holly Hart pulled a horrified face, which was obviously a good thing, because she said, “Perfect. Totally sad. Okay, can we get one more? A small one maybe that Piper can hold?”
“Colin!” Piper called out. “Come here.”
Papers rustled behind the desk. Colin appeared, emerging from the rubbish like a packrat, and trotted to her side. Balancing on his hind legs, he pawed at her thigh.
At least one of us is ready, she thought as she picked him up. But it was for a good cause, she reminded herself. And it had been her idea, so she had no one to blame but herself.
“Okay,” Holly said. “Let’s get this over with.”
The cameraman hoisted the camera onto his shoulder and Holly held her microphone at the ready. She cleared her throat, stared into the lens, and smiled like she was the most trustworthy, honorable person in San Francisco, everyone’s confidante. In other words, a completely different person.
Zoe gave Piper an encouraging shove from behind and she stumbled into place next to Holly. Addison gave a thumbs-up. Charlie whined beside Piper. The one ear that hadn’t been chewed off the poor pit bull in an underground dogfight lay nervously against his head.
“You’ll do fine,” she told him.
Achoo! Achoo! Achoo! Holly sneezed.
The cameraman counted down, using his fingers as a mark. “In three, two…” His finger counted “one,” and a light turned red—as did Piper’s face. Taking a deep breath, she tried to mimic Holly’s expression, but it felt more plastic looking than sincere. She focused on why she wanted Holly Hart to come there in the first place, the anger, the injustice, and her determination to fix this mess before Marilyn got back. To prove that she could do this herself.
“Every dog has its day. But it’s not today,” Holly began in her authoritative reporter’s tone. “I’m standing in a rescue center full of dogs just looking for love, but what they got last night was an act of hate when the center was vandalized. I’m here with avid volunteer and dog lover Piper Summers, who was first on the scene.” She turned to her. “Tell us, Piper, what were your first thoughts when you saw this senseless destruction?”
Holly turned the microphone on her and Piper jumped like it was going to bite her. Not the most persuasive or motivating attitude. This was about the dogs, not her self-consciousness, she told herself. She took a deep breath, feeling her usual confidence fall into place. Her chin rose on its own, her back straightening.
“Well, my first thought was for the animals.”
“Were any of them hurt?”
“Thankfully no, but they were pretty spooked. I’m more worried about what will happen next time.”
“Next time? Do you think that this might happen again?” Holly appeared scandalized, but Piper knew Zoe and Addison had filled her in beforehand.
“This isn’t the first incident. Just last week we had a brick thrown through our window.”
“And now this.” Holly shook her head sadly, as though to ask “What is the world coming to?” and “Who would do such a thing?”
“We don’t know. We’re hoping that someone out there has information about the attacks so we can catch this person before one of the dogs get hurt. But in the meantime, we’d like to raise enough money to install a security system for protection.”
“Definitely a cause worthy of this community’s attention.” She turned back to the camera, speaking directly to the audience. “Without your help, Piper and the other volunteers have about a dog’s chance of uncovering the perpetrator. If anyone has any information regarding this heinous canine caper, please call the local police. In the meantime, the rescue center will be accepting donations to help protect these poor pooches. If you’d like to help, please call the number below.”
The cameraman zoomed in, honing in on the reporter’s pretty face. “This is Holly Hart reporting from the San Francisco Dachshund Rescue Center.”
The cameraman ended the segment by closing in on poor Charlie’s face, the unwitting pawn in their plea for money. “And we’re out,” he said.
Holly’s earnest, imploring expression transformed again. She snapped her fingers at the camera guy. “Hey, you,” she said again, like it was his name. “Get some pans of the damage and some close-ups of the dogs in the back.”
Addison rushed toward Piper and hugged her. “You did great, Pipe. People will want to help for sure.”
“I hope so. Thanks a lot for coming, Holly.”
“No problem. Thanks for the story. This city loves dogs. It’ll help boost my ratings. But why do you need donations? What about your boyfriend?” She nodded toward Aiden, who was across the room tidying up behind the desk with Zoe. “Can’t he help? He’s got more money than he knows what to do with.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my boss.”
Holly snorted. “If my boss looked at me the way he looks at you, I’d take him right to Human Resources. Although if my boss looked more like Aiden Caldwell rather than a fat, balding alcoholic, I’d take him right on the newsroom floor.”
Piper watched Aiden, wondering if she could be right. After a moment, she shook her head, knowing she could never do it. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not asking him for the money. This is our problem, not his.”
Addison bit her lip. “Maybe Holly’s right, Pipe. I mean, I know you’re Miss Independent and everything, but he is rich. And he does own this place. Besides, it’s not really you that has to suffer through it. It’s the dogs.”
“Addy, I don’t feel comfortable. Besides, we can do this. Let’s see what kinds of donations come in after the story runs. We’ll have this place in top shape before Marilyn gets back from her cruise.”
They would. She would make sure of it. Marilyn left the center, the guests, in her hands. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her. She would protect them if she had to spend the night in one of the enclosures herself on guard duty.
The cameraman, or Hey, You, finished in the back and began packing up the equipment. Holly handed him the microphone and watched him cart it all out to the van parked on the street like a pack mule.
“Well, suit yourself,” she told Piper. “Let me know if there are any big developments in the story so I can do a follow-up.” Her nose wrinkled and she sneezed again. “Ugh, dogs. It’s all I can smell. I need a shower.”
Colin grumbled as if affronted and Piper shushed him.
“Thanks again, Holly,” Piper said.
“You can catch the show at five.” She waved over her shoulder, walking away without a backward glance. “You did great, honey.”
“Thanks.” Piper took in the chaos one more time. “Let’s get to it, I suppose.”
Aiden pulled off his tie, preparing to dig in with the rest of them, but Piper put up a hand to stop him. “You’ve done enough already. We’ll be fine,” she told him.
“But I haven’t done anything,” he protested.
“We’ll be fine. I’m sure you have better things to do.” The finality in Piper’s tone caught him up short and she suddenly felt guilty. She’d assumed he wanted to stay out of some sense of obligation, but the expression on his face was a bit like when she told Colin he had to stay at home while she left for Clinical. “Thank you for the offer, though.”
“No, that’s fine.” He seemed to recover. “I actually have some work to do at the office.”
“On a weekend?”
“No rest for the wicked.” He grinned. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to Piper.
Aiden said a quick good-bye on his way out the door. Once he was gone, Piper unfolded the paper in her hand. It was a check. With far too many zeros. She gaped at it for a moment, wondering if she’d forgotten how to read. But no matter how many times she read it, the amount remained outrageous.
“What is it?” Addison asked.
Piper folded it again before they could see. “Nothing.”
The words One week loomed over her from the wall, threatening who knew what. She agonized over the check in her hand. It might have been made out to the center, but it didn’t feel like business. It felt like it was for her. Aiden owned the place. If he really wanted to do something, he could have paid for it through his company, not his own pocket.
But could she turn down a donation that would buy them the security system they needed? Piper went back and forth about it all afternoon. She was still undecided as she replanted the peace lily in an “I heart dachshunds” soup mug with a missing handle—one of the few left intact—when the phone rang.
“I’ll get it.” Addison searched around the desk for a moment. “If I can find it.”
Following the sound, she discovered it in the garbage. She picked it up, but it was broken in two halves so she held the earpiece and mouthpiece to her face separately. “Dachshund Rescue Center.”
She listened for a moment while a smile spread across her Fuchsia Flirt pink lips. Gasping, she covered the mouthpiece.
Piper put the peace lily down. “What is it?”
“Donations!” Addison jumped up and down. “Lots of them! We’re going to be okay.”