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Authors: Dara Girard

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The next morning Yvette wrote a check for the nominal fee, dropped the application in the mail on her way to work and instantly forgot about it the moment she realized that James had been abandoned. Another day ended without a sign of Margaret. Yvette had trusted her to return and as a result she hadn’t asked for too much personal information. Unfortunately, James was of no help. He didn’t have any identifying tags or a microchip. On the third day, Yvette was anxious because she knew James was headed for the animal shelter.

“You know, he’s kind of old,” Greg, her assistant, said when she told him. “It may not be easy for him to get adopted.”

Yvette attached a new leather leash to James’s collar. He began furiously wagging his tail. “He’ll find someone.” She set him down.

Greg bent down to pet him. “Why don’t you take him?”

“I don’t have time for a dog.”

He straightened. “What if the lady fell on hard times and comes back and realizes James is gone?”

“Or got hit by a bus or abducted by aliens? Things happen. That’s life. That’s why we have shelters. We can’t keep him here indefinitely, and I can’t take him.”

“How about just for a week?”

“Why a week?”

Greg lifted James. “I may be able to convince my brother to take him, but it may take a while. I think that’s better than the shelter, where we don’t know what will happen to him. Look at this handsome boy. Don’t you want to make sure he’s taken care of?” James stared at her.

Yvette looked into the dog’s soulful brown eyes and felt her resolve weakening. She turned away. “Fine. One week. Then he either goes to your brother or to the shelter.”

Greg grinned in triumph. “Thanks.” He turned to James. “Give her a kiss.” James licked her cheek. “See, he’s smart.”

Yvette wiped it away. “His days are still numbered.”

The same day Yvette took James home, a small package arrived. When Yvette opened it, she found four pairs of stockings, a membership card that read:
Yvette Pamela Coulier, Member, The Black Stockings Society
and strict instructions. Yvette scoffed at them. For an offer that promised the recipient they would
live life dangerously
there seemed to be a lot of rules. But she decided to put her own bias aside.

Welcome to The Black Stockings Society. Your first assignment is to go to your favorite hair salon, where you need to dye your hair a soft black.

Black?
Ordinary black? What kind of dangerous living was that? So far this “society” wasn’t anything like she’d hoped. Yvette rushed into her bathroom and looked at herself. She loved her dramatic blond streaks. She hadn’t worn her hair black in years. How did the club know the color of her hair? That wasn’t one of the questions. She rested her hands on the sink and stared at her reflection. Perhaps a change was in order. A new, more conservative look may make people treat her differently. She made an appointment with her stylist for the next day. Unfortunately, she hardly slept that night. James snored. She tried burying her head under her two pillows, reminding herself that there were only six more days, but his snoring still penetrated her flimsy sound barrier. Luckily, she soon fell asleep out of exhaustion.

The next day at the salon when Yvette told Geena, her stylist, about coloring her hair black, she looked at Yvette as though she’d grown antennae. “Black? You want me to dye your hair just black?”

“Yes.”

“Not purple or pink?”

“No.”

“How about just a hint of orange?”

Yvette shook her head determined. “Nope. I’m trying for a more refined look and that starts with having my hair dyed a soft black.”

Geena sighed. “All right. It’s your hair.”

Nearly two hours later, Yvette looked divine with a classic chic cut and black hair. Geena spun the chair around and looked at her, astounded. “The color actually suits you.”

Yvette smiled. “Who knew the biggest change would be looking more like myself?”

Once back home, Yvette looked curiously at her next set of directions.
Wear the sheer control stockings to work.
Now that was strange. Hadn’t these people read what she did for a living? How was she going to wear stocking while grooming a dog? Her normal work attire consisted of a pair of jeans (designer, of course) in the winter, and either shorts or capris in the spring and summer, with a blouse, sweater or jacket (in bold colors naturally) and funky footwear.

But she was determined to follow all the instructions, no matter what. The new hair color had worked. When she left Geena’s, she couldn’t help but notice that she was turning more heads than usual. The next morning, Yvette checked herself in the mirror. With her mid-calf cream jeans, bright designer sneakers, and yellow knee-high socks the stockings looked almost invisible. “At least I won’t look too strange,” she said, directing her conversation to James who sat quietly by her floor-length mirror. “Nobody’s going to notice these.”

But someone did notice, the moment he saw her.

Chapter 4
 

N
ate hadn’t expected to see anything interesting at Le Chic Hounds. But then again, few things interested him. Most things bored him—people, places, things. But the sight before him wasn’t boring at all. A beautiful woman, wearing a rather colorful outfit and sheer stockings was bent over a little dog and talking intently with its owner. Lucky dog. When he closed the door behind him, all eyes turned. He was used to people staring. He was a Blackwell after all, and that always warranted stares. But it was only when he saw his reflection in a large wall mirror that he realized the reason for their curious glances. He was wearing all black with a white poodle at the end of a diamond-encrusted leash. He suddenly realized that he had to remember that he was in Michigan not New York and people didn’t know about him or his family connections.

“Can I help you?” a pretty woman with too much eye makeup said.

He gestured to the dog at his side. “Queen has an appointment.”

“Of course. Yvette will help you.”

The woman with the legs straightened, turned and smiled at him. And with each movement she became more and more interesting. He was transfixed. He could not remember the last time a woman had smiled at him without pretense. A brightness seemed to shine around her, and he no longer noticed the garish walls or the shelves of expensive products that lined them. Suddenly he had a feeling that he’d met her somewhere before, but couldn’t place her. Then he noticed the earrings and remembered. This couldn’t be the same woman.

“You’ve changed something,” he said without thinking.

Yvette pulled out a strand of hair and playfully wiggled it. “I dyed my hair and cut it.” She held out her hand to him. “I didn’t introduce myself the last time we met. I’m Yvette and you must be Mr. Blackwell.”

“Nate,” he said surprised that her small delicate hand had such a strong grip.

Yvette suddenly looked uncomfortable. Nate saw her glance at the other woman. “Please follow me,” she said and turned before he could argue. Not that he would. He knew being with her would never be boring and he enjoyed a very nice view of her backside and the way the light hit her legs made a man want to reach out and stroke them.

He followed her into the grooming area.

“I’m here for an appointment,” he said when she continued to look uncomfortable.

“Yes, I know.”

“But there’s a problem?”

“Your appointment was yesterday.”

Nate looked at her, stunned. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

He swore and held his forehead. “She’s going to kill me.”

Yvette raised a brow. “Queen?”

“No, my sister.” He pulled out his wallet. “I don’t care how much extra it is, just tell me you’ll take her today.”

Yvette grinned and waved his wallet away. “These things happen. I’ll take Queen if you have followed all of the drop-off instructions.”

Nate pulled out a list his sister had given him. “You mean this?”

“Exactly.”

“She hasn’t eaten, she’s done her morning, um…walk and…”

“That’s fine.” Yvette led Queen onto a steel surface then pressed a lever to lift it up.

“Nice.”

“It certainly saves us having to lift big dogs. She’s really medium size but I like to impress my clients.”

“It’s quiet around here. Are you the only one who works here?”

“No, it’s a slow day today. Two of my assistants are out and the other has the day off.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a bonus?”

“Consider this a thank-you.”

“For what?”

“The other day.” Nate’s expression looked blank so she said, “Your aunt.” Yvette gently began to part Queen’s fur. He shrugged. “That was nothing.” Nate looked at her curious. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for any bumps, lumps or cuts on her skin.”

“Oh.” He came around the table, and stood closer to her.

Her voice rose in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I just want to get a better view.” His gaze met hers. Yvette’s heartbeat picked up.

He maintained a respectable distance, but to Yvette it was too close. Her entire body felt on alert. Just when she was getting used to him being there he suddenly leaned forward, his chest touching her back, and pointed to something on Queen’s skin. “What’s that?”

Yvette swallowed, praying her voice would remain steady when she spoke. “It’s nothing. She’s had it since birth.”

“Oh.” He drew back, but not far enough. She could smell his cologne, and at times her arm would brush his jacket.

“Okay, that’s done,” she said, ready to send him on his way. Yvette lowered the scale and took Queen over to the large sink against the wall. “You can pick her up in a few hours or I can have her dropped at your house.”

“Can I just wait? I like watching you.”

“You do?”

He smiled. “I find this interesting.”

Yvette hesitated, searching desperately for a reason to send him home. “I don’t usually—”

“I promise I will not get in your way.”

She began to shake her head. “I really don’t…”

He pulled out some dollar bills. “I can pay for the privilege.”

She frowned. “I wish you’d put that thing away.”

“It’s called a wallet and it has made life very easy for me.”

“I bet.”

“You don’t sound as though you approve.”

“It doesn’t matter if I approve. What you’re stating is a fact. Money means ease and special privilege.”

“But it doesn’t necessarily mean happiness.”

“A tired cliché.”

He leaned on the sink. “You don’t believe it?”

“No. You may want to turn your face for this.” She was happy for an excuse to create some distance between them.

He watched her put on a pair of latex gloves. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Squeeze her anal sacs.”

“Her what?”

Yvette lifted Queen’s tail; Nate diverted his glance.

“Oh.”

Yvette tried to remain professional, but all she could think was that she had the chance to finally meet him again and here she was cleaning a dog’s anus. Not very attractive.
Why did he have to stay? Why couldn’t she make him leave?
Naturally, he looked every bit as handsome as she remembered. Even more so. His black jacket complemented his medium-brown skin and his unrelenting gaze hadn’t changed. At their first meeting he’d been in a hurry, but he certainly wasn’t in a hurry now.

“I’m surprised it doesn’t smell like I thought it would,” he said glancing around.

“How did you expect it to smell?”

“I expected it to stink, I guess.”

She tightened her lips, offended. “A grooming salon should never stink. That’s why we give our clients the drop-off rules. This ensures that when you bring your family member to us, they won’t get sick or have a messy accident while in our care. At times, that still happens but rarely. The only smell there should be is that of a wet dog.”

“I was just making an observation,” he said by way of an apology.

“Now you know the reason.”

He nodded. “I also know that I was right.”

“About what?”

He turned to her, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I told my sister you were smart.”

Yvette looked away and turned on the faucet. “Thank you.”

“But you’re wrong about one thing. It’s not a cliché that money doesn’t buy happiness.”

“Yes it is. You have to know how to be rich to be happy at it. People who are born into money take it for granted, but if I were given money I would cherish it every day and enjoy every penny.”

Nate frowned as Yvette took off her gloves and tossed them in the wastebasket. “Do you have to do that with all of the dogs?”

“Some owners check the sacs themselves, but most request that we do it for them.”

“What a job.”

“Some people have to
earn
their money.”

“I get the hint.” Nate folded his arms and rested a shoulder against the wall. “Take it from me. Being wealthy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I think rich people only say that so others won’t try to join them.”

“It’s true. There are the luxury business trips, the lavish parties and numerous wealthy and influential friends. But there are times when I just want to get away from it all. I thought I would get a chance this month, but then my sister scheduled two very important functions I’m supposed to attend with Queen and King.”

“I’d love it. The parties, the socializing.” Yvette began bathing Queen, feeling more relaxed.

“The endless chatter.”

“The conversation.”

Yvette finished shampooing and rinsed.

“The boredom.”

“I could never be bored at a formal party or any high-society event!” She dried Queen with a towel, then led her to a large table to be blow-dried.

Nate stared at her in disbelief with a renewed interest. “You really mean it, don’t you? You would like to go around socializing with two dogs?”

“I wouldn’t want to be just a dog sitter, if that’s what you mean,” Yvette shouted over the sound of the dryer. “I’ve had enough of entering grand houses through the service quarters, thank you. For once in my life I would like to enter through the front door. Have someone address me by my name, rather than my job title. I want people to listen to my opinion because they think it’s important, because I’m important.”

Nate pushed himself from the wall. “I can make that happen.”

“What?”

He pointed in the direction of the dryer. “I’ll wait until you’re done.” When Yvette had finished, he said, “I can make you rich.” He rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “It will take some planning, but I’m sure we could pull it off. Actually I know we can. Are you in?”

“In what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He was too close again, but Yvette couldn’t move away.

“You want to be rich and I can make you rich. At least for a month. That’s how long I’ll be in town. I can introduce you to high-society people, get you invited to parties and you can take my place at the two functions my sister scheduled. I’ll act as your valet.”

“I thought only men had valets.”

“No, women have assistants, too, if they have another name I don’t care because a valet is the only thing I know how to imitate. No one here knows me so I can move around unnoticed.” He clasped his hands together, satisfied. “This idea gets better and better.”

“I don’t think so.” Yvette stared at him as though he had lost his senses.

“What are you afraid of?” He seized her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “We can make this work.”

Yvette had never seen a man so animated. A part of her was drawn to it, but another part was still wary. “I don’t even know you and it’s a crazy idea.”

“It’s a great idea. Besides you know my aunt and my cousin and they will vouch for me. Although my aunt may not compliment my character, she has a certain bias.” He shook his head. “It’s probably better not to ask their opinion, they’ll try to persuade you against it.”

“Where would I live? Would I have to change my name? What about clothes and—”

Nate pounced on her interest, determined not to let her change her mind. “Leave that all to me and no, you wouldn’t have to change your name. You will tell your family and friends that you’ve just come into a lot of money.” He snapped his fingers. “I know. I’ll give you a million dollar limit.”

Yvette widened her eyes. “A million dollars!”

“I’ll get you all the contacts you will need so that you are invited into the right circles. You said you wanted this and you’d be doing me a favor.”

“Why me? You don’t know what you’re doing.”

An irresistible grin spread across his face. “I always know what I’m doing.” He winked. “Why not?” He lowered his voice to a persuasive whisper. “What do you say?”

Yvette remembered the invitation and the last question:
Are you ready to live dangerously?

“Yes.”

 

“You’re right. It’s crazy,” Madlyn said as she, Lewis and Yvette closed for the day. Lewis had come by to take her out to dinner and she told them her plan, without mentioning how much Nate was willing to spend.

“I say it’s perfect,” Lewis said. “You could meet a rich man. Go for it.”

Madlyn shook her head and leaned against the counter. “I think it’s wrong.”

“I already said yes,” Yvette said, but they continued to argue.

“He’ll pay for everything and she gets to be rich. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s deceitful and Yvette may not be able to pull it off.”

“You’re just upset because she won’t be around for an entire month.”

Madlyn bristled at the implication. “That’s not why.”

“Or perhaps you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I have my own money. My question is what happens when the month is over. Will Cinderella turn back into a dog groomer?”

“Let’s not think about the future,” Lewis said. “Think of how much fun we’ll have.”

“We?” Yvette said.

“I mean you, but this arrangement will benefit all of us. You can use this opportunity to get Le Chic Hounds more name recognition. You could talk me up with new clients. This is something you’ve always wanted and he gets to take the break he wants. It’s a win-win situation. Nothing could go wrong.”

“He does have a point,” Madlyn said, with some reluctance. “Perhaps with a little polish you could understand the clients we are trying to attract and you would be better able to handle them.”

Yvette wanted to say “I’ll never be a snob” but nodded instead.

“I do have one question,” Madlyn said, looking at Yvette’s crossed legs.

“What?”

“Where did you get those stockings? I couldn’t help noticing.”

Lewis laughed. “I’m sure others couldn’t help noticing, either.”

Yvette forced a smile, not knowing what to say. “Umm, there was a client who gave me a pair because she had extra.”

“Who was the client?”

“I don’t remember. I…just took them and tossed them in my drawer and rediscovered them this morning.”

Madlyn nodded. “Lucky girl.”

Lewis lifted an imaginary glass. “A toast to new beginnings.”

“Yes,” Yvette said. “And dreams coming true.”

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