Join the Club - Lani Lynn Vale Page 0,5

head home just in case.”

I agreed wholeheartedly.

From what I’d heard, Janvier was a fighter when he was in panic mode. One of the men that’d come with him to pick up Massey had been very vocal about how badly Janvier needed someone to get him under control.

Apparently, the last straw had been when Janvier had nearly shot a cop in his hysteria. That cop being his wife at the time.

Now, Janvier was divorced, and he had a dog that kept him warm at night, not a woman.

According to the men here today, anyway.

I looked at my watch and wondered if it was too early to leave.

I’d been here for an hour, and now I was regretting asking Bourne to ride with me.

Social functions gave me heartburn.

I’d gone to enough over the course of my life to realize rather fast that they just weren’t for me.

My father, David, had been a career military man.

But just because he was career military didn’t mean he wasn’t rich.

He got that from his family back home in Iceland. Mainly his father, my grandfather, who was now deceased.

My grandmother—his mother—was still alive and kicking. For now.

But the time would eventually come that she would pass, and when that day came, my father would officially be a billionaire.

Which meant all the social functions that he attended would only get more frequent—not that I cared anymore.

Ever since I’d had Asa, I was ‘cast out’ so to speak.

My father didn’t talk to me.

He did talk about me, though, which was sometimes even worse.

He let everyone know that I was a little slut who didn’t deserve half of what I got.

“Do you charge for these dogs?”

The question was asked by a woman off to the side. I think that I heard her name was Jamie, but I wasn’t quite sure because she hadn’t actually been introduced, per se. She’d just shown up and started hanging on Copeland’s arm.

Copeland’s son, Auggie, had taken one look at her and ignored her for all he was worth.

Copeland had tried to do the same, but the girl just wasn’t taking the hint.

“Of course she charges,” Janvier said. “Otherwise she couldn’t make a living.”

“Well, it’s not like the dog is anything special. She just said that it was a lab. Labs cost what, five hundred dollars?” she said, waving her hand through the air. “So what are they, like five hundred dollars? I could use a dog to take around with me to places. Service dogs are dogs that can’t be told no to entry, right?”

I gritted my teeth.

“Technically, if you have a service dog, no, you can’t be denied entrance,” I said stiffly.

“Massey cost me five thousand dollars,” Janvier said. “And he was actually a good deal. The ones I was pricing in Missouri were about ten grand more, Jamie.”

Jamie’s mouth fell open in surprise. “That’s… that’s outrageous. Who would pay that much for a dog? He better be able to give me golden shit for that.”

“I spend almost fifty to seventy hours a week working with my current dogs. I have four. And that’s not even including cleaning out their kennels and getting them some exposure. Sometimes during the week I have to take them all out individually and get them accustomed to being around people. Experiencing new places and things. Just last week I spent over an hour and a half at Lowe’s just letting the dog experience the sounds and smells. Since he’s a service dog, he’s not petted like normal dogs. So that entire time we were constantly walking, moving, and dodging,” I said. “Then there are vet bills, grooms, and all kinds of other things that come up.”

Jamie rolled her eyes as if what I did was inconsequential to her.

“I still think it’s not worth what you’re asking.” Jamie shrugged. “I’d never waste my money on a dog that’s priced that high.”

“You think there’s a price I can put on my kid’s life?” Copeland asked softly.

Jamie froze at Copeland’s words.

Sensing that this was a subject that I really, really didn’t want to be a part of, I gathered what was left of my cake and high-tailed it out of there.

I walked directly to Bourne, hoping that he would be ready to go.

But as soon as I got to him, I knew that he wouldn’t be.

His friend, Samuel Adams, was standing next to him.

And beside them? The bride and groom.

They watched me walk up to them, completely different expressions on their faces.

Saint was welcoming and grinning.

Bourne? Not so much.

I could