Kiss Me in the Summer - Barbara Dunlop Page 0,32

the front. “We’re going to the clinic.”

“Is there an emergency or something?” I had a moment of worry about seeing an injured animal. I might not be a dog lover, but I hated the thought of any creature in pain. “You don’t need to worry about me, Josh. Just point me to whatever needs doing—more painting or some sweeping or something.”

“I’m not worried about you,” he said cheerfully. “I’m taking you to meet the orphans.”

I knew right away that he meant the dogs. I was going to meet dogs—right now. I was going to meet a whole group of them.

Was group the right word? No, it was pack—a whole pack of them.

“There’s no rush,” I said. “There must be a lot more left to do at the park.” I was guessing on that, but I was hopeful.

“You’ll love them,” he said. “Reno and Vegas are littermates. It would be great if we could find them a home together.” He paused as if he expected a response from me.

“Are they gambling dogs?” It was a silly question, but my brain didn’t seem to work well while panicked.

Josh laughed like I’d made a joke. “They’re mostly beagle with a little bit of spaniel and a little bit of who-knows-what. They’re very friendly.”

I squelched a shudder at the thought of wiggling, licking puppies that nosed at you. “Oh, good.”

“We also have a Maltese named Pooh-Pooh.”

I stared out the windshield and tried not to picture Ollie, my Maltese nemesis.

“She’s a bit prissy,” Josh continued. But she’d be great for someone who wants a purebred. We’ll have to make sure she’s clean and fluffed.”

I heard Josh turn his head.

“Laila?”

“Hmmm?”

“Is everything all right?”

“Peachy.” I told myself to buck up. The odds I’d get bitten today had to be low, astronomically low.

“Is something wrong at the law office?”

“No.” I wondered why he’d jumped to that conclusion. “Why?”

“You seem distracted.” His tone changed. “Is it news from New York?”

“No, nothing yet. Let’s get back to the dogs.” Had I really just said that?

“Unfortunately, I don’t have high hopes for Butch.” Josh paused. “He’s big, he sheds, and he can be reactive around kids. He’s been with us for a while now.”

“What breed is he?” What I really wanted to ask was if he was securely locked up. He didn’t sound like the kind of dog you’d want running loose. It wasn’t hard to figure out why nobody would adopt him.

“Newfoundlander mostly. I think some mastiff judging by the strength of his jaws.”

He had notably strong jaws? Great. What could possibly go wrong there?

“There are twenty in all,” Josh said. “If we find homes for all of them, it would be a record. You haven’t met Victoria yet, have you?”

I hadn’t yet met the animal shelter lady. I’m sure she was lovely. She was probably a wonderful human being—hardworking, compassionate, caring, and brave. I assumed that was the kind of person who ran an animal shelter.

I suddenly felt inadequate. Because, by contrast, I was a bloodsucking corporate lawyer. I mean, I did some pro bono work every year. We all did. And I’d helped some very worthy clients for free.

But most of my time was spent on billable hours . . . billable hours and attending the right social events where I met with other lawyers and business people who could be potential clients—giving me even more billable hours. I thought back to my conversation with Becky. Just like plans for a relationship or a family, my altruistic work lagged behind my career development.

“Not yet,” I said. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from Victoria.

We turned down an alley and pulled into a small parking lot at the back of the clinic. A painted sign for the animal shelter hung above a solid door.

“Are we . . .” I wanted to ask if Josh was planning to bathe the dogs now, or if this was just a meet and greet kind of thing.

He looked at me, waiting as he shut off the SUV.

I glanced at my watch. “Is this going to take long?”

“You have somewhere to be?” he asked.

“I’ve got a little . . .” I tried to think up an activity that was quasi-true, something to give me an excuse to leave if I started to panic. “Research to do on Maine divorce statutes.” There, that was true enough. There was always more research to be done on any case. I’d never mediated a cat dispute before, and there was a chance there were precedents out