Cowboy Take Me Away - By Jane Graves Page 0,69

springing open even wider. “Paris? My God, that’s right. She does have a dog.”

“Lots of them, actually. Tiny little dogs. All super-rich heiresses have them. Well, not all of them. Only the ones with fashion sense. And there’s no more perfect fashion accessory than a cute little dog. Check this out.”

Luke pulled Tasha’s bag off her shoulder, opened it, and slid Ginger right down inside it with her little bug-eyed head poking out. He handed it back to Tasha. Ginger looked up at her as if she’d found her new home. Tasha stared down at Ginger as if to say, There’s a dog in my gazillion-dollar handbag.

“Picture yourself walking down Rainbow Way with her head sticking up out of your handbag,” Luke said. “Tourists will swear they’re on Rodeo Drive. If Paris came along, she’d think she was looking in a mirror.”

Tasha looked undecided, and Luke was afraid he’d laid it on a little thick. Then she put her bag over her shoulder to try it out. Ginger looked up at her with a little doggy whimper. Tasha patted her on the head, and Ginger panted happily.

“The adoption fee is only fifty dollars,” Luke said.

“Fifty dollars?”

Luke waved his hand. “That’s nothing. You spent way more than a paltry fifty bucks for that purse you’re carrying.”

“Well, yeah. It’s Prada.”

“Of course it is. You’re on the cutting edge of fashion around here. Would your clients expect you to carry anything less? And they would also expect you to have exactly this kind of dog. It’s part of your persona.”

“My persona,” Tasha said, trying out the words. She clearly liked the sound of them.

Luke pulled the dog out of Tasha’s handbag, told Tasha to sit, and put Ginger in her lap. Tasha petted her tentatively, but there was nothing tentative about the way Ginger circled around twice and plopped herself down in Tasha’s lap. She stroked the dog’s head, and Ginger looked up at her adoringly with those big Chihuahua eyes.

“Hmm,” Tasha said. “She is kinda cute. I never really thought about having a dog, but maybe…”

“There’s no maybe about it,” Luke said. “You’ll love her.”

“Do you think she’d like it at my shop? Some of my clients are kinda grumpy.”

“They won’t be after they meet Ginger.” And with all that attention, she might think twice about ripping up a waiting room chair.

“I’m not really sure how to take care of a dog. If I’m going to do it, I have to do it right.”

“A little dog like Ginger is no trouble at all. I’ll fill you in on all of that.”

Luke kept quiet, waiting as the two of them bonded, and soon Tasha’s unsure expression was replaced by a decisive one.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to adopt her. But mostly because it’s good for my business. You were right. This is Rainbow Valley. People expect it.”

But judging from the way she was smiling down at Ginger, Luke knew it was only a matter of time before she figured out the truth. Ginger might be good for Tasha’s business, but she was going to be even better for Tasha herself.

Luke dug through Freddie Jo’s desk drawer and grabbed all the appropriate forms for the adoption. After he explained the forms to Tasha, she filled them out. He gave her an information sheet and talked to her about how to care for her new dog. He collected fifty bucks, then clipped a leash onto Ginger’s collar. When Tasha stood up, the dog put her front paws on her leg and let out a little yap.

“She’s telling you she wants to go home,” Luke said.

“Is he right, sweetie?” Tasha said, smiling down at the dog. “Do you want to go home? Huh?”

Baby talk already. A very good sign.

He escorted them to the door, and Ginger trotted alongside Tasha as if they belonged together.

“Hold on,” Luke said. “One more thing.” He grabbed the camera from the credenza behind Freddie Jo’s desk.

“Wait.” Tasha scooped Ginger up and put her into her handbag, then struck a pouty Paris Hilton pose.

Luke clicked. “Perfect.”

A few moments later, he closed the door behind them and breathed a sigh of relief. He uploaded the photo, then grabbed photo paper to print it. As he tacked it to the Wall, he thought maybe he’d done a pretty good day’s work. Thank God he’d caught TMZ a couple of times over the years so he could spout all that Paris Hilton crap. And thank God it had kept Tasha interested long enough to decide

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