If Tess had any question about how she was doing, the skeptical look on Patrick’s face answered it for her. What had ever made anyone think she’d be good on camera, she didn’t know. It was her third attempt, and try as she might, Tess couldn’t unfreeze her stiff Barbie arms while talking to the camera and motioning toward the boredom-busting samples she’d readied for the first video segment. These included an empty but sealed water bottle pierced with a few holes and stuffed with essential-oil-scented cotton balls, an activity puzzle she’d made from cardboard, rope, and PVC pipe, and a jumbo-sized ice tray for homemade doggie Popsicles. She was also under no illusion that, whenever she turned, her spine and neck were moving any less stiffly than a mannequin body.
She stopped midsentence and collapsed her forehead onto the counter underneath her. “I didn’t think I’d be this bad.” When she looked up, she gave Patrick a hopeful glance. “Hey, what if I write the script and get everything ready, but someone else does the video part? Because, let’s face it: I’m pretty sure this is going to bomb if we use me in these videos.”
Patrick shut off the GoPro that was mounted to a tripod in the middle of the room. He had been filming at a slight angle in front of the cat kennels so he could catch activity in the Cat-a-Climb and Tess would still have a counter to stand behind.
Rather than answering, Patrick paced the room, mumbling inaudibly as he worked through something.
It was Wednesday evening, and they’d waited until the shelter closed for the day to start filming. Aside from a volunteer who’d come in to work a late-evening shift with the puppies now that they were doing better, the place was empty. The volunteer, Mia, was in back, and Tess and Patrick were alone in the main front room.
“Imagine how bad I’d suck in front of a real audience,” Tess mumbled more to herself than to Patrick.
“I believe we’ll find the opposite is true.” Without offering further explanation, Patrick disappeared into the dog kennels, leaving Tess alone to avoid looking directly at the GoPro. As she waited, she pulled her script from underneath the counter.
After a quick squeeze of the buckeye she was still keeping in her pocket, she practiced the first few paragraphs—the ones that felt the stiffest—in which she introduced herself and the shelter and talked about the main goals of the short video as she tried motioning clearly but also naturally toward the products on the counter. Only it was so much harder than it seemed. Kudos to all the people featured in television commercials.
She was shaking her neck and arms loose like Jell-O when Patrick stepped back in through the kennel doors. He was leading Orzo, the sweet corgi who was one of Tess’s unofficial favorites.
Patrick was followed by Mia, who was leading Fannie, the good-natured Saint Bernard Tess had been enjoying taking on walks whenever she had a few minutes of downtime.
Tess swallowed. So much for not having an audience.
Rather than offering explanation, Patrick passed Orzo’s leash to Tess, then grabbed a nearby chair that he set in the middle of the floor. Afterward, he moved and lowered the tripod, aiming it several feet lower and in front of the open floor along the north wall.
“The background isn’t as appealing, but I’ll zoom in on Orzo and on you.”
Mia sank into the chair in the middle of the floor and made a kissing sound to draw Fannie’s attention to her. After sitting for a good scratch, Fannie sank to the floor alongside Mia and splayed flat, her legs sticking out in four directions.
“Tess, have you met Mia?”
Tess nodded, thinking how Patrick had been in the room fiddling with the GoPro twenty minutes ago when the two of them had met for the first time and talked for several minutes, which further solidified Tess’s belief that Patrick only paid attention to what he wanted to.
Though Tess’s best guess was that Mia was only a couple of years older, she was a mom of a seven-year-old and the shelter’s resident artist. She had chestnut-brown hair that she wore in a long, loose pixie cut. The cut was cute enough that Tess would have given serious thought to copying it if she thought it might complement her face the way it did Mia’s. Pixie envy, she’d heard it called.
“You have confidence issues and stiffness in front of a camera that you don’t have in person,” Patrick said, tilting his head as he looked from her to the supplies on the counter.
From the chair, Mia pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh, and perhaps oddly, Tess felt a bit of her unease slip away. Tess smiled too. “Um, thanks?”
“I think the dogs will help. And so will Mia.”
Although Tess didn’t quite get what Patrick had in mind, she suspected he might be right. Having two dogs she connected well with in the room was already helping, and Mia seemed kind and understanding, more relatable than Patrick.
“Can you sit on the floor with your feet tucked under you for ten minutes or so? It will look better on camera than cross-legged,” Patrick said.
Tess shrugged. “Sure.” She was in jeans and had a long-sleeved thin, white shirt underneath one of the shelter’s purple logo T-shirts. She’d left her hair in a low ponytail so that it wouldn’t spill all over the place as she demonstrated the products. She’d even applied a light coat of makeup when Patrick had suggested it could be helpful on camera.
“What is it you have in mind?”
“You’re comfortable with customers, and you’re a natural with animals. That is what we need to show on video. But you look like you are starring in a low-budget infomercial. You need to let the audience see how you relate to dogs.”
Rather than hurting her feelings, this touched Tess’s funny bone. She felt even better when Mia joined in the laughing.
Patrick didn’t crack a hint of a smile, but he didn’t seem fazed by their laughter either. “And instead of looking at the camera like you are afraid of it, you need to think of Mia and Fannie as your audience. Think of the woman who came in earlier today with questions about her dog and how you answered her. You’re doing the same thing; you’re just talking to people while they are at home.”
What he said made sense. She should have thought of this before.
“And I’ll film next to Mia, but look at the camera if you can.”
Tucking her feet under her butt, Tess settled into position on the floor in front of the wall full of pictures of adopted animals and their new owners. No sooner had she settled than Orzo half climbed onto her lap in an attempt to douse her face and neck in licks.
“Mind if I straighten a few things?” After wrapping Fannie’s leash around one chair leg, Mia walked over and knelt in front of her, offering a soothing smile. “Don’t mind me. Not only do I have a seven-year-old, but before I draw animals, I get them to pose for a few dozen pictures. When it comes to snapping photos and shooting video, I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting what you notice later and wish you’d corrected.”
Up close, Mia’s eyes were a startling shade of blue-gray, and they exactly matched an exotic-looking pair of dangly earrings she was wearing. Tess sat still as Mia fiddled with her T-shirt collar and freed a lock of her hair that had found its way underneath it. “You look great. And your clothes are perfect. You come across as friendly, approachable, and inviting. I’d give your video a shot if I saw it pop up on my Facebook feed or wherever you guys are sending this.”
“YouTube, but linking to it with our Facebook account,” Patrick said.
Mia gave Orzo a scratch on one ear and headed back to her seat. Fannie, who’d been watching contentedly, gave Mia a determined sniff. “Tess, maybe this will help. Picture me as Fannie’s new owner, which I’d probably be for real if one of my family members wasn’t allergic to dogs. But for the sake of this, let’s pretend I’m here with my giant Saint Bernard Fannie who hates her crate so I don’t like to crate her, but she’s been a touch destructive while we’re gone and she’s home alone. Everything you’re about to say is advice I really need to hear.”
Patrick, who’d gone back to studying Tess’s homemade items that were still on the counter, brought over the puzzle and bottle and handed them to Tess. “Let’s go through it twice. Once for practice. Let Orzo do whatever he wants as you talk, but do your best to keep to your script.”
Feeling considerably better, Tess nodded. “Yeah, okay. Tell me when, and I’ll start.”
* * *
There was no hint of the coming sunrise yet in the east as Mason parked in the nearest open spot across the street from Tess’s grandma’s house. It seemed like it had been more than a day and a half since he’d left the shelter, but he was in too deep to see her again before telling her everything, and he was dead set not just to tell her, but to show her.
And to do that, he’d needed her to have a day off.
The fact that she had two off in row made it even better. The trip could be done in a day, but it would make for a long one. He’d told Fabina, Tess’s grandma, of his plan, and she’d agreed that he stretch it over two.
“I’ll pack a bag for her,” she’d said when he’d called to ask permission to do this. “And some food for the drive. And I’ll expect you to give your gentleman’s word that you’ll be good to my granddaughter. I don’t let her know, but she’s been my favorite since she was born. I figure it has something to do with the fact that I’ve always rooted for the underdog. It’s why I liked you the first time I watched you up at bat for the Red Birds and heard your story.”
Mason wasn’t sure when that had been, but he assumed the announcer had shared something about his lengthy recuperation from the lightning strike and how he’d overcome near paralysis in his left side to play again. What piqued his curiosity even more was what she said about Tess. When she didn’t explain and moved on to something else, Mason decided it was something he was probably better off hearing from Tess.
He turned off the ignition and glanced back at John Ronald, who was staring out the window at the dark houses. Mason wondered how far John Ronald’s range had been, if he’d ever roamed this far from downtown as a stray. “I won’t be long, buddy.”
He’d crossed the street and was jogging up the crooked concrete porch steps when the noisy wooden door pulled open. It was Fabina. She waved him up. “She’s in the bathroom getting ready. Here’s her bag. Get it packed away before she sees it. If she realizes it’s an overnight trip, she’ll want to repack everything I’ve sent for her.”
Mason jogged back out with the small suitcase and tucked it behind the passenger seat, hoping John Ronald wouldn’t start gnawing on it before he got back. Yesterday, he’d left the dog at home while he went out on a two-hour workout and grocery run and had come home to a million feathers on the floor, on the shelving, and some still floating in the air. Thankfully, it had just been one throw pillow that John Ronald had demolished and not the couch. In case the dog was considering taking his tension out on Tess’s suitcase, Mason handed him the three-point deer antler he’d bought at a pet store a couple of days ago.
After a thorough sniff of the suitcase, John Ronald lifted the antler gently out of Mason’s hand, locked it between his front paws, and began to gnaw away. By the time Mason was back at the house, Tess was in the family room giving her grandma a hug.
Mason felt his insides stir in appreciation at the sight of her. She was in dark-gray leggings that hugged her slender but curvy legs, suede boots that reached just below her knees, and a light-gray cashmere sweater. Tess’s long hair was half pulled back in a clip, and she had a cream scarf tied around her neck.
And Mason was going to have a hard time not wanting to take it all off. His blood had been boiling hot ever since the other night. Long workouts at home and one at the gym had been the only thing to quell it.
“Morning,” Tess said, grinning as she spotted him in the doorway. “Or close enough, anyway. Coffee? My grandma brewed a giant pot.”
“Thanks. I’m good for now, but I thought we’d stop for breakfast later.”
“Stop what?” Tess set her hands on her hips but smiled playfully. “Because I’m still in the dark about where we’re going or what we’re doing.” She glanced out the window. “Literally and figuratively.”
“I’m hoping you won’t be disappointed.”
“She won’t.” Fabina turned and disappeared behind the kitchen wall before coming back with a worn canvas tote that seemed plenty full. “I packed you some food. Tess said you’re learning to cook. Come for dinner soon. I’ll show you some of my secrets.”
“I’d like that.”
Tess hugged her grandma goodbye a second time and grabbed a wool coat from the coat closet. After the door was shut behind them and they were headed down the stairs, Tess nudged him with her elbow. “Can I state for the record that it’s a little weird my grandma knows where I’m going, and I don’t.”
Mason closed his hand over her lower back. “If you want me to tell you, I’ll tell you. Though I suspect you’ll figure it out soon enough. I’ve not yet met your father, but I can’t imagine fearing evoking his wrath any more than I do your grandma’s. I had to ask her permission. Something tells me she’s good at holding a grudge.”
Tess huffed in agreement. “You’ve no idea. I could seriously tell you some stories.”
They’d crossed the darkened street, and Mason paused with his hand an inch above the handle of the front passenger door. In case Fabina was staring out the window, he didn’t want the interior truck light turning on. Between the creamy-crisp scent of Tess’s perfume and the warmth radiating off her in the chill fall air, his resolution was draining fast.
Tess shifted the tote bag of food from one hand into both, letting it rest against her shins, and looked up at him, her dark eyes lingering over his mouth before locking on it.
If he really let himself get started with what he wanted to do, he’d end up making a pit stop at his place. Instead, he jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and let his lips brush against hers for not long enough.
Suppressing a wave of guilt over the inadequacy of it, he pressed his lips against her forehead before pulling away. “I want to hear your stories. All of them. Your adventures in Europe. The misadventures that sent you there. The business you’re trying to start. What else makes you tick…aside from dogs, because I’ve seen that. Things I should know about your family. Everything, Tess. I want to hear it all.”
And if he could help it, today would mark the first day in an endless series in which he kept nothing from her either. At least, once they got where they were going, and he showed her all the things he needed her to see.
She smoothed her top lip over her bottom and studied him for longer than he’d spoken. He wanted to know what she was reading in his gaze but didn’t ask. He hadn’t felt like this about a girl since early college. A part of him had wondered if he’d be able to after all the messing around he’d done the last couple of years.
“Okay,” she said. “But just a heads-up… Sometimes I ramble.”