Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,60

But I want to move forward intentionally. And I don’t want to manipulate or use Beck or the dogs in any way.”

“You told Beck in your first meeting it’s not manipulation if it’s mutually beneficial.” Her smile was wry. “So what’s the problem?”

My hand was on the door and I was already moving. I needed a break from this conversation. “I’ve changed my mind.”

I stepped outside to Jasmine’s protests, kicked off my shoes, and sank my bare toes into the sand. Inhaled. Exhaled. Tried to feel every grain of sand along the soles of my feet—a meditation technique my mother used to have me do when I was a little kid. Grain, grain, grain went my focus. It was a pointless endeavor—you couldn’t actually feel every grain—but it had the benefit of calming your mind after a few minutes.

The clarity materialized—about the meeting and Jasmine’s emergency ideas. Deep down, even when I felt like the sky was truly falling, I believed good was still coming my way. Fischer had been very clear about their intentions and yet I hadn’t let myself believe it. Because I had apologized, was working with Lucky Dog, doing something trustworthy with my time.

It still wasn’t working. But now Jasmine’s ideas felt… icky to me.

I could try my hardest—and my life might never go back to the way it was.

Maybe it was time I started to accept that.

My phone pinged.

Beck.

My cheeks were still hot and I realized I was smiling even in the midst of this mini personal crisis I was having with my toes in the sand. There was a video plus a text that said: I had to ask Jem to help me send this. She says hi and that she misses you. Thought you would want to see this.

The video was Beck, looking bearded and handsome and giant standing in the middle of the Lucky Dog training field. In his right hand, he held a minuscule treat between his fingers. Face open but stern, he said, “Penelope. Sit.”

Before him was my girl—my straggly, mangy, skinny stray dog looking cleaner, more filled out and sitting on command.

I pressed the phone to my chest. Glow went my heart.

Before I could think too hard I fired off a text back: I can’t tell you how much I needed to see this video right at this moment. Thank you, Beck. You’re doing such a great job with our girl.”

Behind me, people were streaming into my office—Jasmine’s staff. The fall-out was continuing and now we had a potential financial crisis on our hands. I curled my toes, squished sand, yearned to tear off my clothing and dive naked into that sea-green water.

I don’t think I’ll be around this week. Bad news for Wild Heart and I have to be here to fix it. Send your prayers to the universe that all goes well. I’ll keep posting photos to raise you more money, okay? And I’ll send a case of kombucha to Lucky Dog for you.

Okay, Beck texted back.

I smirked. The man was a one-word machine.

Thank you again for talking with me this morning, I wrote. And if you want to ask me on a date later, you know where to find me.

He didn’t text anything back.

33

Beck

Luna hadn’t been at Lucky Dog for an entire week.

According to my staff, I was in a bad mood.

Which wasn’t true—I just wanted to slam doors and prowl around and scowl at every question because I liked it that way. But I guess we’d all gotten used to a weekly infusion of Luna’s cheery light and without it I felt stuck in grumpy darkness.

Her influence wasn’t entirely absent though. Right now, Elián and I were sitting on the stairs outside the office, sharing a six-pack of beer, and watching Luna’s website update with more and more donations for Lucky Dog. We were approaching $100,000 in total donations over two weeks, which was one-third of our budget gap, the one we needed to close by the end of this month.

It also meant that my staff could be paid next week. I didn’t think that was going to happen before Luna decided I was stuck with her.

“Can you show me what she’s been posting?” I asked Elián. Luna had texted that she’d been secretly taking more than four photos every time she visited. She had plenty to upload and share from the comfort of her office. Elián showed me her Instagram page. It was filled with attractive pictures of our campus. I scanned the same