Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(51)
“Understood.” Jonah disconnected and dialed in the next favor on his list.
“Are you calling to explain why you haven’t accepted my friend request?” Adam said by way of greeting.
“No, I’m calling to see if any of your guys are looking for some overtime the Saturday after next.”
It was usually the sheriff’s department that handled this kind of town event, but it wasn’t unheard of to reach out to other qualified county departments in a pinch. And since Jonah was officially heading up the team, he could use his discretion.
“Is this for your pretty neighbor’s charity event?”
“How did you know about it?”
“Facebook, man. Facebook.” He could practically hear Adam shaking his head. “Nora posted that Shay’s wearing something from the Boulder Holder in the walk-a-thon, so count me in.”
“You’re not invited,” he clarified. “But I need three guys.” Jonah thought of Adam’s friends: smooth, good looking, even better with the ladies. “Three of the fattest, oldest guys in the house. And they have to be married.”
“Since when is ‘married’ a requirement?”
“Since now. You going to help me or not?”
“You going to accept my friend request?”
After getting the names of a few guys Adam thought might need the extra cash, Jonah hung up, then went to Facebook. He accepted Adam’s friend request so he wouldn’t have to hear him whine like a little girl, then posted a picture on Adam’s page of Yodel in a tutu that was taken from behind and typed, It’s not a cat.
Look at that. His first post.
It was nearly five when Shay ushered the second-to-last of the fans out the door. The day had been a success. Warren had drawn the crowd, but it was her dogs that were the stars of the event, winning over the hearts of the ladies. One lady in particular.
Mrs. Moberly sat at the back of the shop, where she’d been for the past twenty minutes petting and talking to Boss, with his floppy ears and melt-your-soul eyes. Boss was a sucker for naps but at times craved being in the thick of the action and life. Shay had been holding out for a family with older kids. Placing him in a home where he’d be left alone during the working hours wouldn’t work with his personality. And although Mrs. Moberly would make a great doggie mommy, as the town’s head librarian, she worked long hours.
“Boss doesn’t do well with being alone for long periods of time. He’s a cuddler, needs constant companionship,” Shay explained, because it wasn’t about placing an animal with a family. For Shay, the process went deeper. It was about matching the needs of the animal with the lifestyle of the family, being sure to make a successful pairing.
St. Paws was eHarmony for the furry and four-legged.
“I was thinking that Boss could come to work with me,” Mrs. Moberly explained, pushing her glasses higher up on her nose. “Most libraries have cats, but I think ours could use a dog, one that’s good with kids.”
Mrs. Moberly could use a dog in her life too, Shay thought, watching the way she gravitated toward Boss, leaning her body into his. Boss, being one of the most intuitive dogs Shay had ever fostered, leaned back, giving the woman what she needed—affection. Uncomplicated, unconditional affection.
“I have an application if you’d like to fill one out—wow, okay,” Shay said as Mrs. Moberly pulled an application from her handbag and handed it over. It was completely filled out, with a list of references attached to the bottom, and Boss written next to Pet of Interest. “This looks great. If you want, we can set up a time to meet somewhere neutral, like the park. It will give you a chance to see him in action and I can see how you two interact.”
Because sweet as he was, Boss was not a dog that would chase a ball or roll over on cue—he wasn’t built to roll and moved like molasses. Then again, Mrs. Moberly was nearing retirement age and walked like she wore slugs for shoes.
“If that is how this works,” the librarian said, looking down at Boss. “But I pretty much knew the second I saw him in the calendar that he was mine. It’s the eyes, they remind me of my husband.” She gave Boss a scratch behind the ears and he let out a groan of ecstasy. “I’ve been waiting for you to bring him to an event so I could see if he felt the same.”
And Shay knew right then that she didn’t even need to read the rest of the application. Mrs. Moberly had just told her everything she needed to know.
“I need to come by and do a house check,” Shay explained.
Mrs. Moberly smiled. “Well, I’ll be sure to have some tea ready.”
Shay said she’d drop by later in the week, and with one last hug, Mrs. Moberly left the shop, Boss whining when the door closed.
“Well, look at that,” Shay said. “Impressing the ladies with those big eyes.” Eyes that looked up at Shay and hit her straight in the gut. Another good-bye so close to the last was going to make this a hard week.
Suck it up, this is your job.
With that reminder, she locked up the shop, leashed her pack, and walked to the soon-to-be St. Paws Rescue. She wanted to tally up her daily earnings and account for it on the Coat Crusader’s chart before the couch arrived.
It was silly. She’d estimated that she only pulled in around four hundred bucks today, but that was four hundred bucks more than she’d had this morning. It was also a quarter of a line that she got to fill in, taking her one step closer to high fiving the Coat Crusader—and to becoming a real St. Helena resident with staying power.