Why Miss Josie should not drink an entire bottle of wine by herself:
- Waking up on time the next morning is a challenge.
- Being hungover makes her extremely grumpy.
- She will sleep in her clothes and probably won’t have time to change.
- She’ll forget to do important personal hygiene things, like washing her face.
- Sticking her hair in a ponytail and shoving on sunglasses will not disguise anything.
“Come on, Capone,” she said, pulling me out of the shop the morning after her drinking session in the back garden. “We’re going to be late, and this interview is important. We want to make a good impression.”
I looked up at her. Did she seriously just say that? She slapped herself on the forehead.
“I hate my life.”
As we walked to her car, Mr. Nate called out to us, a cup in his hand. “Wait,” he said. “I have something for you.”
She turned around in surprise, nearly falling over. “Whoa.” She grabbed the car door for support. As soon as she regained her balance, she glared at Mr. Nate. Even though she had on dark sunglasses, I could tell she glared, mostly because of the angry set of her mouth and the way her eyebrows drew together in a frown. She was a regular ball of sunshine this morning. “What do you want? Please don’t make me drink coffee today. I mean it. I can’t.”
She winced, her face pale, as if the thought of coffee made her want to hurl. I leaned against her, hoping she wouldn’t throw up in front of Mr. Nate. How embarrassing.
“Not coffee. It’s my hangover smoothie. Chamomile tea, lemon, ginger, slippery elm bark, and lavender flowers. I put in a little apple and banana, too, for sweetness. Try it. It’s yummy. I promise.”
She lifted her glasses to the top of her head, and glared at him again, but took a sip. Her bleary eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. It’s good.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Glad you like it. I always drink it the morning after I overindulge.”
She took a few more sips, the color coming back into her face, and frowned. “Wait. How did you know about my hangover?”
Mr. Nate didn’t answer. Miss Josie seemed as prickly as a cactus this morning, and twice as mean. He was wise to be cautious.
Her eyes narrowed, comprehension dawning on her face. “You eavesdropped on me, didn’t you? I thought I heard someone by the door. You dirty, sneaky snooper you.”
“Eavesdropping?” he asked. “On the conversation you had with your dog? No insult intended, Capone. I’m sure you are a great listener.”
He patted my head. Did I mention how much I adore Mr. Nate? He’s a peach.
Miss Josie did not feel the love. She stamped her foot, poking her finger at him. “It’s a violation of my privacy.”
“I didn’t violate anything. I took out the garbage and happened to overhear you blathering on and on about your ex. Cedric, right? He sounds fantastic.”
Miss Josie stared at him mouth agape. “I can’t believe you stood there and listened to me. You’re so weird.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I only listened because I thought you might have locked yourself out of your shop again, but I kept listening for entertainment purposes. You’re pretty funny when you drink. Funnier than when you’re sober, at least.”
I blanched. Oh, no, you didn’t, Mr. Nate. Nothing good ever came from poking a bear, and nothing good would come from poking a hungover Miss Josie either.
“You…you…you…terrible person.”
What a comeback. For someone so well-read, Miss Josie had a limited arsenal of insults. She needed to work on her smack talk. Maybe she should try Shakespeare instead of Austen. He had a lot of good comebacks.
Note to self: Her wit’s as thick as Tewkesbury mustard.
“I’m wounded to the quick,” said Mr. Nate.
Ah, both impressive and Shakespearean. Sadly, Miss Josie didn’t seem to notice.
“I would go on,” she said, spluttering. “But I have an important appointment this morning. Capone has an interview for obedience training, and I’m already running late.” Miss Josie winced, probably realizing how downright ludicrous she sounded. “And, anyway, I’ve got to go. Bye.”
She climbed into her car and turned on the ignition. Mr. Nate tapped on her window.
“What?” she asked. “Haven’t you humiliated me enough? I realize I seem like a total idiot, and my life is a big joke for you, but I’m a woman on the edge here. Please don’t push me any further.”
“First of all, I meant the smoothie as a peace offering, but it backfired. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. Honestly.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But I have to go.”
“Did you forget something?” he asked. He pointed to me, still sitting patiently next to him on the sidewalk. He opened the back door to Miss Josie’s car so I could jump in. I did so, wagging my tail happily. A car ride? Yippee. I loved riding in the car.
Miss Josie groaned. “Thanks. Again. Bye.”
She put her glasses back down and drove off. A quick escape was sometimes the only way to avoid future embarrassment.
We got to Misty Mountain five minutes late. Unfortunately, as soon as we arrived, I realized I had to poo, which delayed us an additional five minutes.
Curse my poor time management skills.
“Crap,” said Miss Josie, looking at her watch, and probably not intending to make a pun. “Please don’t let it be the grumpy guy. I can’t handle him this morning.”
When we entered, the reception area was quiet and empty except for a rather stern-looking blond man with a clipboard in his hands. He glanced at Miss Josie, and then at his watch before shooting her a disappointed look.
“Josephine St. Clair? You’re late.”
Sexy Trainer Dude in the flesh. And we had not made an excellent first impression. “Sorry,” she said, pointing at me. “He had to poop.”
Way to throw me under the bus, Miss Josie.
He breathed out a long sigh, clenching his chiseled jaw and writing something on his clipboard. “A good dog owner can anticipate these things ahead of time and incorporate them into the schedule. You will learn,” he said.
“I will learn,” Miss Josie repeated, like a good little robot.
Sexy Trainer Dude led her to a small table and waved a hand to indicate she should sit. He spoke, in a monotone voice, staring vacantly out the window, but we hung on each word. Judging by the bored expression on his handsome face, he’d gone over the rules for obedience school a million times already, but it was all new for Miss Josie. She listened attentively to him, taking notes on a piece of scratch paper she’d found wadded up in her purse. She’d forgotten to bring a notebook. Heck, she’d even forgotten to shower.
Sexy Trainer Dude paused in his speech, his glorious blue eyes lingering for a moment on Miss Josie’s raptly attentive face, his golden brows furrowed in a frown. “Excuse me,” he said. “I think you have something stuck to your cheek.”
“I...what…?” She reached up and felt her cheek, pulling off a piece of dog kibble from my breakfast this morning that had somehow gotten stuck there. She stared at it a moment, then, without losing a beat, handed it to me. Bonus treats. Yum. “I like to carry around spare dog food on my face. It’s my way of anticipating his needs and being prepared. Like a good pet owner should.”
He stared at her a long moment before his lips twitched. “Funny. Yes, it’s good to have a sense of humor, especially when dealing with a lab. Capone can start training on Monday. We have an eight am class. Sound good?”
“Yes,” she said.
I got a little antsy and sniffed around, pulling on my leash. Sexy Trainer Dude looked me right in the eye. “Sit, Capone.”
He didn’t speak loudly, but his voice pierced my soul. I sat, unable to stop myself.
“How did you do that?” asked Miss Josie. “He never listens.”
He shrugged, his face softening as he looked at me. “He’s a good dog, and smart, too. Given enough time, I could train him to do anything.”
“Do you think so?” asked Miss Josie, and I practically saw the wheels turning in her head. The idea that someone might be able to control me appealed to her at the moment.
“Yes.” He stood up and shook her hand. “For now, I’d suggest frequent walks to help him get rid of some of his excess energy, but he’ll learn what he needs to know once he starts his classes. I’m looking forward to training you, Miss St. Clair.”
She faltered. “You mean you look forward to training Capone.”
He shook his head. “Nope. The dogs are fine. It’s the people we train here.”
“Oh,” said Miss Josie, getting pink in the face. I had to wonder what went through her mind. I had a feeling it had to do more with the obvious appeal of the ruggedly handsome Sexy Trainer Dude and less to do with getting me to follow her commands. “Um, bye.”
He nodded. “See you on Monday. Don’t be late, or I’ll dock you for time. Training the dog starts and ends with training the owner. If you can’t be on time, you aren’t committed, and I’ll have to punish you.” His eyes grazed over Miss Josie. In spite of the messy hair and the bit of dog food she’d had stuck to her face, she was quite lovely. Suddenly, his words seemed to have a sexual undertone. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and got as pink in the face as Miss Josie. “As much as I’d, um, hate to do such a thing.”
Miss Josie gave him a mock salute. “We’ll be on time. I promise.”
“Okay then. I think we’re done here. See you on Monday, Josephine St. Clair.”
After he left, she turned to me. “Wow. If he were any hotter, I might self-combust,” she said softly. “I’m actually looking forward to obedience training. Thanks, puppy. It’s kind of a good thing you’re so bad.”
Hmmm. Not exactly a compliment, but if she liked Sexy Trainer Dude, I would do my best to help her. In fact, I’d be the best worst dog they’d ever seen.