Dearest Addison,
I’m sorry I have been so busy since my fundraiser. The best thing about my week was seeing you. I would really enjoy spending time with you again soon. Would you like to have dinner at my place this Wednesday night?
—Philip
Addison clutched her phone to her chest and sighed. Naia looked up from her bubblegum ice cream that was dripping its way down her wrists and chin.
“What’s wrong?” the little girl asked between licks.
Addison smiled in return and took another taste of her licorice ice cream. “Absolutely nothing. Everything is perfect.”
Philip was still interested in her. A sense of victory pulsed through her muscles until she wanted to do a cartwheel. He’d probably been too busy dealing with police and outraged dog owners to text her. But her fantasy romance was back on track.
With a little squeal of delight, she hit the reply button. Her finger hovered over the keyboard, hesitating with all the things she wanted to say, like @#$% yes! But she struggled to find the right response, the not-too-eager, just-the-right-amount-of-interest, with-a-dash-of-flirtatiousness response.
After a few seconds, she scowled and gave up. She’d think of something eloquent to text Philip later. Besides, it wasn’t a good idea to text back right away; she needed to make him sweat a little.
She tucked away her phone, then she and Naia carried on down the park path in Alamo Square, enjoying their after-lunch treats. Princess trotted ahead, greeting each dog that passed by—and there were plenty. The off-leash dog park attracted many locals and tourists, especially with all the painted-lady homes facing the green space.
Her day with Naia was actually a lot easier than Addison had expected. She wasn’t sure what she’d been so worried about. Naia was easy. Great, in fact. Addison was having fun.
The picnic that Felix had packed for them had been delicious. The man could cook. Who would have thought? All along, she’d imagined he was some bachelor probably living on takeout—one of the many things she’d assumed about him. But Naia’s appearance had flipped all her presumptions about him upside down. Now she didn’t know what to think.
It was like getting to know him, the real him, all over again. Addison looked back over the last couple of weeks with new eyes. Each interaction seemed completely different now. Like how he said he didn’t hang out and party after work. It was because he was rushing home to Naia.
It was as though Addison had created an alternate version of Felix in her mind, starting with their less-than-flattering first encounter. She’d Mr. Darcy’d him right from the start.
In reality, there was so much more to see, like a movie she’d rather buy than rent so she could watch the rest of the story: the director’s cut, some extra features, and definitely the bloopers. And part of that story was right there in front of her, licking bubblegum ice cream.
“So, it’s just you and your daddy, huh?” Addison asked, hoping to discover a little more.
Lick. “Yup.”
“What about your mom?”
“She lives in Urup.” Lick. Lick. A pink trickle ran down her forearm.
“Do you mean Europe?”
Naia tilted the cone to lick the drip on her hand, spilling more down the other side. “Yeah, that’s it.”
Addison’s eyes widened in shock, but she kept her voice neutral. “Europe is really far away. Do you see her much?”
“No. Daddy says it’s too far for her to come to America.”
“Oh,” was all Addison could say.
She watched the little girl closely, but no sadness tinted her voice or crept across her adorable features. It was like she was just stating a fact. Maybe she didn’t know her mother at all. Addison could relate.
“My daddy raised me all by himself too,” she said.
“Really? Oh, but Celia takes care of me when Daddy’s at work,” Naia offered.
“Does anyone else take care of you? Other women Daddy’s age?”
“No, not really.”
The news made Addison strangely relieved. It was like she’d received an exclusive club card at her favorite store. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why, out of all the people he could invite into Naia’s life, he’d chosen her. The woman he’d made out with a few times.
“Celia has lots of toys,” Naia told her. “Sometimes we watch movies.”
“That sounds fun,” Addison said. “I love movies. What kind do you like to watch?”
“Make-believe stuff. I like Cinderella, and Alice in Wonderland, and Beauty and the Beast.”
“Really? Me too. I love those.” Now this she could do. Common ground, some way she could relate to a five-year-old. However, if a twenty-eight-year-old could relate to a child, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing.
“Dad likes superhero movies,” Naia said. “We’ve seen Iron Man like a million times.”
“Really? I never would have guessed.”
Addison tried to imagine this other Felix watching Disney movies on the couch with his daughter. She wanted to know more and found herself plying Naia for information. Then she wondered at what point she’d started to care so much.
“What else does your dad like, other than movies?”
“I guess dad stuff. Like making me school lunches, and taking me to preschool, and having tea parties with me.” Naia used her fingers to list each one off, spreading the ice cream on her hands even more.
Addison snorted when an image of Felix in a bonnet and pearls popped into her head. “Tea parties?”
“Yeah, Dad likes peppermint tea.”
“Is that so?” She swallowed her laughter. She knew these were the things he had to do, but she was certain he enjoyed them because they were for his daughter.
All this time, she’d figured he was trying to get into the pants of last-call hookups and getting together with red-bra’d servers. When Addison had imagined him tucking a girl with a teddy into bed, it hadn’t been the stuffed kind.
“How’s your ice cream?” Addison asked.
“Good,” Naia told her between licks. “Bubblegum’s my favorite.”
“Is it?” Addison remembered Oliver’s visit to her spa and thought it made sense now.
Naia tried to lick the pink streams before they dripped off her elbows, but the hot afternoon sun was making faster work of her ice cream than she was. She held her arms out like she’d been contaminated. “I think I’m done now.”
“Okay, me too.” Addison took the soggy cone and threw hers out with it.
Naia was a pink mess. Addison dug through her purse for an emergency ice cream cleanser. She scraped together makeup remover wipes and hand sanitizer. Between the two, they did the job, and Naia was clean again, albeit smelling of bubblegum.
“Princess, let’s play hide-and-seek,” she squealed, taking off up the grassy knoll.
Addison restrained Princess by her shiny pink collar, giving Naia a head start. Once she was hidden behind a thick cedar tree, Addison could hear soft giggles and knew Naia was ready.
“Princess, where’s Naia?” Addison asked. “Where is she?”
Princess sprang into action, but since she didn’t know what to do, she ran in excited circles, barking at Addison’s feet.
“Go get her.” Addison encouraged. “Where’s Naia?”
Slowly, she led Princess to where Naia’s jean dress peeked out from behind the tree trunk. When Princess came across her, Naia scream-giggled like she was on a roller coaster and ran for her next hiding spot.
“Good girl, Princess.” Addison gave the doxie a treat from her purse, distracting her while Naia settled in behind a cypress.
This time, Princess found the child with little coaxing. By the fourth round of the game, Princess beelined it straight for Naia, reveling in the congratulations and treats she received each time she found her.
Addison suspected Princess was just following the soft giggling around the park, but when Naia chose a hiding spot near the playground, it tested the dachshund’s sniffer and big, sensitive ears.
Princess circled the playground. She sniffed past screaming kids and ignored a golden Lab that tried to talk to her. Focused on her mission, she bypassed them all, hot on an invisible trail.
Addison followed her weaving path until Princess came to a bench. Naia was lying flat on the seat. Princess barked and stood on her hind legs, pawing at her find.
Naia leaped to her feet on the bench, screaming and laughing at the same time. Addison handed her the dog treat. Once the girl fed it to Princess, she jumped into Addison’s arms.
“You must be part badger,” Addison told her.
“What’s a badger?”
“It’s an animal.” Addison set her down and brought up a picture on her phone. “Dachshunds are really good at hunting them.”
Before they moved on, Addison pulled out a Pampered Puppies coupon from her purse and approached the golden Lab’s owners. They were spread out on a blanket, enjoying a picnic of their own.
She handed them the slip of paper. “If you happen to be looking for a dog groomer, I have a spa nearby. If you bring in that coupon, I’ll give you twenty percent off any services that day.”
They thanked her, and she and Naia headed down the path.
“What did you give those people?” Naia peered into Addison’s purse curiously, as though hoping it had been bubblegum.
“It was a coupon for my business. I’m looking for more customers to come get their dogs cleaned at my spa.” Or any customers, really.
Instead of focusing her marketing efforts, she was tossing out promotional material to just about anyone now. She thought it wouldn’t be long until she began begging every dog owner in the city.
“Customers?” Naia’s big brown eyes scanned the park. “There’s someone.” She pointed like it was an accusation. “He has a dog. Is he a customer?”
Addison followed her gaze to a man wearing a panama hat. He was throwing a ball for his dog while seated on a bench beneath a shady cypress.
“He might be. Good eye.” Addison smiled. “I need you on my marketing team. What do you say? Did you want to give him a coupon for me?” She held out another voucher.
Naia’s eyes grew wide. “Yeah.”
She reverently took the pink piece of paper with both hands and carried it over to the man as if she were holding the crown jewels. She plopped down next to him on the bench and thrust out the coupon. “Excuse me. Do you want your dog cleaned?”
All that time spent studying marketing tactics and honing sales pitches, and the simplest offer from a five-year-old was more effective than an entire marketing-and-promotions team. Addison made a mental note to add Naia to the payroll.
The man turned his attention away from his English foxhound. He jumped in surprise to find the little girl beside him. “Oh. Thank you.”
Taking the coupon, he held it up to the light, tilting his head back like he needed glasses. His hat brim rose, and the sun hit his face. That’s when Addison recognized him.
“Alistair Yates.”
When he noticed Addison, his expression transformed from pleasant surprise to consternation. Yet, when she approached, he grabbed his cane to stand and removed his hat, perhaps out of polite habit.
“Miss Turner.” He frowned. “Good day.”
The English foxhound loped to Alistair’s side and placed the ball next to his shoe. When it rolled away, the dog nudged it back into place and sat patiently, waiting for him to throw it again.
The hound acknowledged Princess but didn’t start sniffing. She was probably too well trained. Princess pretended not to take notice of the other dog. She puffed out her chest, demonstrating her clear superiority.
“Is that your dog?” Addison blurted.
“Of course it’s my dog,” Alistair said. “Do I look like a dog walker to you?”
Addison blinked, staring open-mouthed at the foxhound. She supposed it was a silly question, but she just hadn’t expected Alistair to move on so quickly.
“She’s beautiful,” she said honestly.
His deep lines relaxed a little, and his loose wrinkles fell back into place like a heavy curtain.
“Yes, she is. Not the natural show dog Lily was.” A flit of emotion crossed his face, his frown lines twitching. “Is,” he corrected himself. “The natural Lily is. Fancy here is lacking some of the affinity needed for the show, but she has potential if she works with Penny.”
“How long have you had her?”
“Since she was a pup.”
So, Alistair had a second dog waiting in the wings all along. “Are you going to show her this weekend?”
“What other dog do I have to show?” Alistair retorted.
Addison felt a twinge of pity for the man, despite everything that had passed between them. The accusations, the interview with Holly that had sent her customers running. She couldn’t blame Alistair; he’d lost his beloved dog.
She’d worked with enough owners to know that, for some, the lines blurred between their dog and a human. It wasn’t just time and money they poured into their pets. It was love, sometimes bordering on obsession, as in Kitty Carlisle’s case. Their four-legged friends ate at their supper table, slept in their same bed, and dressed in the same outfits—something Addison knew about herself—as though they were truly family. And Alistair Yates had lost his.
Fancy finally lost her patience and nudged Alistair’s hand, greedy for more play. Leaning on his cane, Alistair bent down to pick up the ball and tossed it out into the field.
“Mr. Yates,” Addison began. “I’m so sorry you lost Lily. If there was something I could do …” She swallowed hard.
“There is something you can do,” Alistair said.
“Of course,” she answered. “Anything.”
He clenched his cane, his knuckles turning white. “You can stay away from this dog.”
Turning to Naia, Alistair handed her back the pink coupon. “Thank you, my dear. But I won’t be needing this.”
Naia took it back with a pouty lip, and he kindly patted her on the head. He whistled through his teeth, such a loud and startling noise from the quiet, mild-mannered man. Addison flinched at the sound.
“Come on, Fancy.” Placing his hat back on his head, he dipped it briefly at Addison in a farewell that looked like an involuntary twitch.
As he walked away, Addison couldn’t take her eyes off the English foxhound. She was no dog show judge, but she’d seen a lot of dogs come through her spa, and even a layman could see that Fancy was utterly perfect.
Naia stared at the unwanted coupon in her hands. “He didn’t want a clean dog?”
Alistair might have had a backup dog already waiting to replace the old one, but Addison knew he couldn’t be a suspect. By stealing his own dog, he’d never be able to show Lily in public ever again, certainly not at a conformation show. While Felix was the one who knew people in general, Addison knew dog owners. And Alistair was one sad pup.
“No,” she said, watching Alistair leave. “I think that dog is clean.”