You Lucky Dog - Julia London Page 0,135

WITH YOUR DOLLARS FOR YOUR FAVORITE DOG

AT ALL PARTICIPATING LOCATIONS!

ALL PROCEEDS WILL GO TO BENEFIT THE

AUSTIN CANINE COALITION

KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD!

Carly’s other new client, the Deja Brew coffeehouses, had agreed to participate in the annual fundraiser. “Nothing will get people in the door faster than a cute baby or a dog,” she’d said confidently.

Carly and Max and Jamie and Duke made their way through the coffee shop, pausing to admire Jamie’s three paintings hung on the walls, all for purchase. Originally, there had been four. One had sold for enough that Jamie was able to buy a state-of-the-art doghouse for Duke. Jamie was Carly’s newest client. He didn’t pay her anything, and sometimes, she didn’t know if he understood his work was selling. He just wanted to paint.

“Isn’t it cool, Jamie?” Carly asked. “People love your work.”

“Busy work for busy hands,” Jamie said.

In the back garden, beneath glittering bulbs and Chinese lanterns that hung from the live oaks, Suzanna was already on stage, tuning her guitar. The place was packed because, Carly whispered to Max, “of excellent publicity.”

He squeezed her hand.

They chose a table in the back so that Jamie and Duke were not in the middle of all the people going in and out of the shop.

Mia and Will were to join them, and as they watched the door for them, a man stepped out. He had a rotund figure and wore a thick black sweater over a white T-shirt and tiny wire-rimmed glasses.

“Wow, I feel like I know him,” Carly said. “He looks so familiar.” She studied him a moment as he picked his way through the crowd, then gasped. She turned to Max. “I’ve got it!”

“The Penguin,” Max said.

Carly laughed, and they high-fived each other. They hadn’t missed a Batman reference yet.

Carly was crazy happy in her new life—crazy, crazy happy.

She and Max were in love, and that’s all she needed to know. They had not talked about the future, not yet—neither of them were ready to do anything that would necessitate parental involvement, like a wedding. That was definitely going to require some finessing. But it didn’t matter right now. They knew where they were going, and it was into the future together.

“There they are,” Max said.

The kids were out first, the three of them running into the garden setting as if they lived there. Millie pulled up to one table and stared at the grown-ups. That table thought the little girl was cute. For the moment.

“Too much noise,” Jamie said as Finn and Bo raced toward them.

Duke pressed his head against Jamie’s thigh and licked his hand. Jamie looked down, put his hand on Duke’s head. “Too much noise,” he said again, but he didn’t seem overly agitated.

“You brought the kids?” Carly asked as Mia waddled over in her eighth month of pregnancy and fell into a chair. Will and Max greeted each other, and Will said hello to Jamie and told Finn to stop staring at him.

“Was I supposed to abandon them?” Mia snapped.

“Not abandon them, but maybe a sitter? Where is your nanny?”

“Quit! Got a job in West Lake Hills. Those people pay some bucks, Carly. I’m so glad you’re back. I’m going to need all the help I can get. Millie! Millie, come here!” she hissed loudly.

“Thanks everyone for coming,” Suzanna said into her mic. She strummed her guitar. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? This first song is one I wrote for all the lovers out there. You know who you are.” She started to play.

Carly glanced at Max. He smiled at her. He put his arm around her and drew her into his side as Mia admonished Millie for running off and Jamie muttered under his breath and Will pretended not to hear the fight that had broken out between his sons. “Well, this has disaster written all over it. Any regrets?” he whispered.

She didn’t know if he was asking about this outing in particular or life in general. But she had not a single regret about anything. Certainly not about leaving New York. She loved what she was doing now. And just as Megan Monroe had promised, when one door closed, you pulled on your big girl panties and walked through the next open door.

Carly looked forward to each day, and amazingly, it just got better and better.

She was one lucky dog.

Acknowledgments

I’ve written several books now, and sometimes I forget to say out loud how thankful I am to all the people who bring my books into the world. My part is the easy part—I tell myself a story and write it down. Getting it into your hands takes an army with skills I could never possess. That army has my undying gratitude, even if I haven’t said it. Let me say it now:

First and foremost, I have to thank my agent, Jenny Bent. We’ve been together a long time and she is still my biggest cheerleader, sounding board, and reality check. I adore her. To Kate Seaver, who brought me to Berkley Publishing, and who has a very keen editorial eye. Plus, she’s so bloody charming that you realize you’ve done a big dose of revisions and forgot to get mad about it. Thanks to Mary, Brittanie, and Jessica, and probably a host of others whose names I don’t know, who make sure my books get to production and then get noticed in this crazy, noisy world. It’s a superhuman feat. To whoever designed this cover, you are a genius and I love you. Thanks to my copy editor, the nameless, faceless person who pulls at all the loose threads until the manuscript is spic and span.

A big thanks to Linda, who keeps the social media machine humming when I’m writing, and is so cool that she actually sent me some of her Clorox wipes recently when I couldn’t find any anywhere. My one regret after working with her all these years is that she doesn’t live closer.

To my bestie writer friends, who I need in my life every single day, because no one but another writer ever gets how weird this industry is, and no one but another writer agrees it’s “not too much, it never gets old” when you schedule another video happy hour with wine to talk about writing books. Thanks Teri, Sasha, Sherry, Tracy, Laura, Marnie, Beckie, Janene, Connie, Christina, Julie, Dee, and Sherri. You have been the village that has raised this child through the years. Love you, man!

Thanks one thousand times over to my family, every single one of you. You’re so proud of me! Even though I think we all know you’ve created a bit of a J-Lo monster. For that, I’m sorry-not sorry. Love you all so much.

Photo by Kathy Whittaker Photography

Julia London is the New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of numerous romance and women’s fiction novels. She is also the recipient of the RT Bookclub Award for Best Historical Romance and a six-time finalist for the prestigious RITA Award for excellence in romantic fiction.

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