sure,” Conrad said. “No worries. Just come by this week. Oh, and, by the way, we’re going to need a pet deposit.” He winced sympathetically.
Carly froze. She looked at him again. “What?”
“You said Baxter was temporary, remember? But it’s been a few weeks now, so . . . I mean, unless you’re going to surrender him?”
Her throat clenched. She tried to clear it. “Ah,” she said, but it came out garbled.
Conrad waited.
“Not surrendering him,” she croaked. “How much is the deposit?”
“Five hundred per pet.”
Carly must have gasped, or who knows, maybe she fainted and quickly came to, because Conrad threw up both hands and stepped back like he thought she was about to projectile vomit. “Hey, it was Petra’s idea. I mean, don’t get us wrong, we love dogs,” he said, tapping his heart with his palm. “But Petra had a problem with an investment property in Santa Monica and said the cleaning bill when you move out could be horrendous.”
“Horrendous! Have you seen my house? I am very clean.”
“Sure, but the dog,” he said again.
“Baxter doesn’t do anything but sleep all day. In one corner of the house.”
“Well . . . we think he’s been in the herb garden. So, yeah . . . we’re going to need that pet deposit.”
It was a good thing Carly was in her car, because she might have launched at Conrad, White Walker style, and chewed his head off. But she said, “Okay. Will do!” She put her car in gear. Conrad stumbled a little in his Jesus sandals. She gave him a jaunty wave and drove on to her cottage. “Will not do,” she muttered as she got out and slammed the car door.
When she walked into her house, Baxter was there in the entry, waiting for her. His tail was swishing across the floor back and forth, and his enormous paws were together in a vee. He looked very excited and impossibly sad at once.
Carly dropped her bag. “I’m sorry.” She fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, Baxter! I’m sorry I ever thought about rehoming you. I would never, and I need you to know that. I would never give you away, not unless we found a utopia where bassets live freely in a commune. A basset dog ranch with plenty of stuff to smell and organic dog food and couches. Lots of couches.” She buried her face in his fur.
When she finally sat up, and Baxter had managed to drool on her silk blouse, she thought at least one decision had been made. She was keeping this dog. Or Baxter was keeping her—she wasn’t quite sure which way that went. But it was clear that the feeling was entirely mutual.
That evening, while Baxter snored contentedly beside her on her bed, Carly worked on her bills again, trying to find the secret method of squeezing blood from a turnip. She could not find it.
Then she worked on the publicity schedule for the next three weeks, considering Victor had nothing to show. When she’d finished that, she emailed Ramona McNeil.
Dear Ramona,
Once again, thank you so much for the opportunity to put Victor Allen in front of you. I am so excited about his design aesthetic, and I think when you meet him, you will be, too. Unfortunately, sometimes artists reassess their creative vision. Victor has done just that. He is busy creating a completely new show, and it’s going to be amazing. But that means I have nothing to show you right now. I am so sorry about that. I know you are frightfully busy, and his spot will likely go to some other deserving designer. I would like to leave you with the suggestion to keep an eye out for Victor. He’s going to be a huge talent.
Sincerely, Carly Kennedy, Carly Kennedy Public Relations
She fell asleep on her laptop.
When the light dawned the next morning, Carly felt much better because today was Red Bud Isle.
As they weren’t meeting until later in the afternoon, Carly tried to remain focused on work. But the day crawled by. At last, it was time to head in that direction. She just had something she had to do first. Something she didn’t want to do, but had decided she had no choice. She was going to swing by her dad’s house on the way to Red Bud Isle.
She’d made the painful decision last night to ask him for a loan. Just enough to get her through the