Aint too proud to beg sfdg-1

Josie Sheehan collects failed relationships the way some women collect designer handbags. Now, at thirty-five, she has exactly one male in her life: her Labradoodle, Genghis. In fact Josie, along with the three very single women in her dog-walking group, has recently sworn off men, resigning herself to long walks in the park with her devoted, four-legged friend.

All bets are off, however, when she meets Rick Rousseau, a pet-company CEO who is smart, sexy, and, best of all, head-over-heels for Josie. Even Genghis, an excellent judge of character, seems to know that Rick is the real deal. But just when Josie starts to think that she has found something more enduring than puppy love, she discovers that Rick has a complicated past - and a secret that could put the woman he loves in serious danger...

T
he photo album crackled with age as the page was turned. This is it, the widow said, tapping a ridged fingernail onto the edges of a black-and-white snapshot. I know hed want the world to remember him this way, in this moment.

Josephine Sheehan placed her reporters notebook on her lap and leaned in close to the old woman, peering at the photo of Ira Needleman on his 1947 trek to the North Pole. His young face was frozen in triumph, frozen in time, and probably just plain frozen. His huge, toothy smile and iced-up goggles were all she could see of a slight man buried inside a fur parka, both arms raised in triumph against the vast white horizon, a U.S. flag flapping above the permafrost. It was a photo of a guy whod made it to the top of the world, literally. No wonder his widow had chosen this photo to accompany his obituary.

Its a wonderful picture, Josie said, smiling at Gloria Needleman.

He was so young, and everything was ahead of him. With a sigh, Mrs.

Needleman gently peeled the photo from its yellowed page.

As shed already told Josie, Ira would return to San Francisco just months after this photo was taken, where hed meet Gloria and fall in love. Theyd get married. Theyd have kids and grandkids. Ira would run a successful Bay Area electrical supply company. Hed mentor four inner-city kids and pay for their college educations. Hed compete in his first triathlon at the age of seventy. The young man in the snow had just begun the grand adventure of his life.

The widow handed the photo to Josie, giggling. Josie waited patiently for Mrs. Needleman to bring her in on the joke.

Gloria shrugged and offered up a pensive smile. My Ira had a very good time while he was here. He made the most of every day. She patted Josies hand. And when you get down to it, is there anything else a person can ask for?

Thats when Josie had her epiphany.

Okay, maybe it was just an epiphanette. But at that moment, right there on Gloria Needlemans plastic-covered couch, it dawned on her that if you lead a life chock-full of relationships and adventures and sorrows and celebrations, like Ira Needleman did, then the people you leave behind can focus on how you lived rather than the fact that you died.

But if you died before you had a chance to live? Josie knew there was nothing worse. In the news business they called it a tragic death, as opposed to a nontragic one. Josie herself had been known to use that phrase now and again in her obituary feature stories for the /San Francisco Herald./ And suddenly it all became clear to herif Josephine Sheehan, thirty-five, dropped dead right that second, her own newspaper would put her demise in the tragic category.

Shed never married. She didnt use all her vacation days. She still rented. Josie didnt do triathlons or biathlons or any athlons at all.

And her most stable interpersonal relationships were with a too-hairy Labradoodle named Genghis and the women in her dog-walking group. Yes, she had parents and siblings and nieces and nephews, but no kids of her own.

And her love life? It was nothing but a series of starts and stops that hadnt taken her anywhere. Shed had eleven boyfriends since college, six of whom had moved into her place only to move out again. Her sister once glibly suggested she install a turnstile at her front door. Shed been so offended by that remark that she got out her calculator and did the math. Bad move. It seemed her average relationship lasted 4.2 months, followed by 7.6 months of unattached limbo. In other words, one of her romances had the shelf life of a container of bacon bits. This would be information she didnt plan to share with her sister, or anyone else, ever.

And right there, with Mrs. Needleman staring at her, Josie knew that if she died that day there would be several people more than willing to say that her life had sucked, but there wasnt a single soul who could claim that Josephine Agnes Sheehan had sucked the marrow out of life.

Her vision began to swim.

Are you all right, dear? Mrs. Needlemans voice had a charming warble to it. She put her hand on Josies knee and studied her face with concern.

Do you feel sick? Can I get you some water? /Oh, man./ Josie envisioned the headline on her obit, courtesy of the jokers on the copy desk:

SPINSTER EXPIRES; DOG ALERTS NEIGHBORS TO DECAYING BODY

Should I call someone at the paper and tell them youre not feeling well?

And my God! What photo would be scrounged up for her obit? The picture of Josie at her sisters wedding, in that bridesmaids dress her brother said made Josie look like an eggplant with boobs? Or the one from eighth grade, where Josie sported the Cyclops zit? Or how about the one of her stinking drunk in Cancъn after college graduation, falling out of her beach chair, digging through the sand trying to locate the lime wedge that had fallen from her Corona bottle? Because really, those were the choices. Josie had never gone to the North Pole, and the world had recently learned that the permafrost was anything but, and now she couldnt reach the top of the world unless she took a raft!

Josie began breathing too fast.

Is there anything I can do for you?

She blinked at Mrs. Needleman, embarrassed. Josie needed love in her life. She needed deep, true connectionthe kind of grand adventure that only seemed to happen to other people. And unless this eighty-four-year-old widow from Cayuga Terrace was some kind of mystical matchmaker, there wasnt a damn thing she could possibly do for her.

Thank you so much for your time. Josie tucked the photo into the pages of her notebook and crammed everything into her bag, then stumbled to her feet. You and your late husband shared a beautiful life together, and again, Im sorry for your loss. She headed for the door. Ill call to let you know the day we plan to run it.

Stop right there, Miss Sheehan.

Gloria was fast for an old lady. When Josie turned, she was already right behind her. The woman examined Josies face with a fierce curiosity that had nothing to do with the obit and everything to do with her odd behavior.

I apologize, Josie sputtered, letting her shoulders droop. I just…

Im… look, I just figured out that Im really, really late for something.

Another interview?

A life.

Glorias pensive smile returned. She took one of Josies hands in both of hers and gave it a friendly squeeze. She looked Josie right in the eye.

Ive always believed that if youre breathing, its not too late.

Josie laughed. Thats what her dog-walking friends always said, usually after theyd reamed her for stumbling into yet another going-nowhere relationship.

Great. Thanks again. Josie reached behind her and fumbled for the doorknob.

Ask the universe for what you want, dear girl. Mrs. Needlemans face turned serious. Be very precise in your request. Put it in writing and wait for it to come to you. It always does.

Josie frowned. Shed seen that garbage on TV oncesome woman claimed she wrote a list of all the qualities she wanted in a man and then met her soul mate in thirty days. Josie had laughed long and hard at that, seeing as how the universe couldnt even get her order right at the Dairy Queen window.

Thats very sweet, Mrs. Needleman. Thank you again.

The friendly squeeze turned into a grip. The widow scanned Josies face, demanding her attention. In a voice that had lost all its charming warble, the widow said, In your case, I suggest you do it before daybreak.

Josie gritted her teeth while trying to smile politely.

The old lady wasnt done. And, I must be honest with you, I think its going to take great courage to embrace what you ask for.

Josie yanked her hand away and retreated out the door. She backed out of the Needleman driveway, tires squealing, wondering what the old lady meant by that remark about courage. Plus, why the hell did everythingincluding her love lifehave a deadline?

Josie was so disconcerted that she nearly caused the tragic deaths of several pedestrians.

S
he was half awake when the light began to find its way west to San Francisco, peeking around the edge of the Transamerica Pyramid. Theyd made it, and Josie was proud of their tenacity. After thirteen hours of loitering, she and Genghis had ended up fourth in line at the grand opening of the newest Celestial Pet Superstore, where they soon would claim their prize of an entire years worth of free dog grooming.

Josie looked at the group that remained. Weaker and less disciplined individuals had voluntarily thinned the herd as the night dragged on, complaining of exhaustion or boredom. But Josie and Genghis had come prepared for a sidewalk vigiliPod, laptop, blanket, folding chair, chew toys, and a thermos of coffee. The coffee was for Josie. The chew toys were for Genghis. So was the folding chair, as it turned out.

While most people and dogs slept in the pale sunlight, Josie took out her laptop and decided to get it over with. All night shed been mulling over the slightly scary Mrs. Needleman and her suggestion that she write down what she wanted in a man, then send it out to the universebefore daybreak. And sunrise was just minutes away.

What was the worst thing that could happen? Shed not find her ideal man?

She was already there. Besides, creating this kind of list would show the women in her dog-walking group that they were wrong about her. Bea, especially, was always telling Josie that she didnt have the life she wanted because she didnt /know/ what she wanted.

Ha! Shed show Bea! Shed show them all! Josie knew exactly what she wanted, and she started typing.

MY MAN

Is kind Funny Respects himself and others Loves dogs Is intelligent (though not necessarily an Ivy League graduate) Is passionate about his work, whether hes a garbage man or a CEO Is generous to a fault Is a deep thinker Has overcome obstacles in his life Appreciates nature Believes in a force greater than himself (but doesnt even need to call it God) Josie stopped there because the next few things that popped into her head werent so noble. They were downright pornographic. Shed gone three months without actual sex so that was to be expected. And so what? No one would ever see this list, right? Its not like the universe would tattle to her mother. Besides, Mrs. Needleman said to be precise. Josie wrote on.

My man loves the feel of skin on skin and cant get enough touching, snuggling, caressing He has eyes that reveal his true soul He kisses so good I get light-headed He has a wild imagination in bed He is well endowed (not circus-act material, but something on the largish side) Can go all night Wants to have babies with me She stopped again, looking up and down the sidewalk furtively. She met the eye of the man next to her in line, a skinhead with a long-haired wiener dog. She quickly looked away. Had he noticed her heavy breathing?

That shed started to sweat? Josie adjusted her position on the blanket and recrossed her legs. She changed gears.

He'll love old houses

He'll be a safe and courteous driver He wont mind cooking every once in a while Hell rub my feet and ask me about my day Hell go to the North Pole with me before its too late Hey! You just spilled your bloody fuckin coffee all over my bloody fuckin spot!

Oh, God, Im so sorry! Josie scrambled to her feet and used the corner of her blanket to sop up the spill before it reached the skinheads camouflage sleeping bag. She smiled sheepishly. Since shed detected a British accent, she added, Cheers, mate.

Josie plopped back down. She decided the list was as complete as it could be, so she hit the save key and placed her order with the universe.

It was done. The sun came up.

Suddenly, she felt a prick of discomfort and looked toward the skinhead again. He wagged a pierced eyebrow in her direction. She gave him the benefit of the doubtmaybe this guy had courteous driver written all over his face but she just couldnt see it because of all the other tattoos.

She silently amended her list. /Dear Universe, Id really appreciate it if my man were tattoo-free. Thank you./ The lights of Celestial Pet flickered on at precisely seven-thirty.

Employees scurried about, taping down helium balloons, turning on cash registers, adjusting elaborate product displays. Through the glass, Josie could see the sign for the grooming salon, just off to the right.

Victory was in sight.

At eight oclock sharp, a smiling woman in a deep blue vest came to the front and ceremoniously used a set of keys to open the doors. Josie had already packed up the coffee-stained blanket, the laptop, folding chair, iPod, chew toys, and empty thermos. However, as the doors opened, it dawned on her that shed neglected to look in a mirror. She hadnt freshened her lip gloss or run a brush through her curls. Surely she looked like a woman whod pulled an all-nighter on a sidewalk.

The group cleared the doors and made a beeline to the grooming center.

Three small reception desks were set up, and the three people ahead of Josie were immediately registered for their freebies. She had to wait patiently. When it was her turn, a young blond girl waved her and Genghis over, then promptly left her station. Josie was pissed! If that girl didnt hurry up and get back, numbers five through eleven would get the coveted spots, and she hadnt been waiting outside for thirteen hours for nothing!

The skinhead was being served ahead of Josie. Same for the guy who was behind him!

In her mind she began to compose a letter to the Celestial Pet corporate offices. /The slipshod organization of your grand opening robbed me of my hard-earned years worth of free dog groomings…/ Looks like we have a winner. May I get your name?

The blond girl had been replaced by… /him./ The cheap blue vest looked ridiculous on the man. He was well over six feet, solidly built.

Somewhere in his mid-thirties. Sandy brown hair cut in short waves. Eyes so green and luminous it was like staring up into an enchanted forest.

His smile was deadlywhite teeth and full lips that promised a kiss of cosmic magnitude. If it werent for the elaborate tattoo peeking out of the left side of his shirt collar, the guy could have been a male model.

Or the man on her list.

Josie cursed herself for looking like a shopping cart lady on what was obviously going to be one of the biggest days of her life. Then the most extraordinary thing happened.

Josie couldnt move. She couldnt speak. All she could do was stare at him. And a strange, heated energy began flowing through her body, looping to the gorgeous dog groomer and back to her, gaining power with each pass. She felt as if she were on fire inside, a liquid molten fire that left her tingling everywhere.

The energy disappeared as suddenly as it had started. Genghis jumped up and put his paws on the counter, and the man reached out and gave his head a rub.

Okay then, he said to the dog as he sat down at a computer. Since your owner seems to be on the shy side, maybe Ill get started with your name.

Genghis, Josie said, answering for her dog.

The groomer peered at the panting, happy-as-hell dog, trying to find a pair of eyes under all the hair. He doesnt strike me as the marauding-warlord type.

My sister named him, Josie said, as if that explained everything. The synapses in her brain started to fire again, and she gave herself a mental face slap. This was her moment to shine! Her physical appearance might be middle-of-the-road on her best day, but her wit was consistently sparkling, and Josie would not walk away from this counter without this mega-fine man being aware of that fact.

You see, Josie continued, running a hand through her snarled curls, hoping to appear carefree in the process. My dogs a Labradoodle, and my brother-in-law made fun of me for paying good money for a mongrel, but my sister thought he said?Mongol, hence Genghis, as in Genghis Kahn, but I see you already got that.

She knew her whole future was riding on his response. She waited. She wanted him to laugh. Actually, she wanted him to press her to his muscular chest and kiss her like a man possessed, but shed settle for a laugh. So what if he was just a dog groomer? Like shed said on her list, it didnt matter what he did for a living as long as he approached it with passion. And she could see passion beneath that calm surface. Plus, she was sure she could find a way to live with the tattoo. Josie Sheehan was nothing if not flexible.

After a brief pause, the mans eyes crinkled and a corner of his mouth twitched. Thats a great name, he said. And do you have one just as unique? His large, well-kept fingers hovered over a computer keyboard, waiting for the generic information hed want from any contest winner.

She sighed, aware that shed failed to impress. My name is Josephine Sheehan. Then she proceeded to spell it for him. Also, she gave him her e-mail, home address, work address, home phone, cell phone, work phone, and her parents phone, though shed noticed hed stopped typing a while back.

He handed her a brochure. Here are the rules for the free year of grooming. Please keep in mind that theres a once-a-month limit, and there are additional charges for specialized services. Feel free to call and make your first appointment at any time. Thanks for coming to the newest Celestial Pet.

Josie clutched the glossy paper in her sweaty hand. /That was it? It was over?/ That couldnt be right.

You know, she said in her most casual voice, you probably just made it possible for me to retire.

The mans eyebrows rose in surprise.

See. She stroked her dogs fur as she spoke. Genghis has this soft retriever undercoat with the kinky poodle hair on top, so hes a magnet for anything thats not glued downtwigs, dirt, dust, dryer lint, grass, burrs, thorns, carpet fibers, bugs, whatever. And if he gets rained on or sits in his water bowl or jumps in the shower with me, it all gets matted together. And you know those little steel combs are worthless, so I end up spending over a hundred a month for grooming. So this will really help.

The man cocked his head, as if seriously considering everything shed just said. Which of course he would do, being a deep thinker. Then he asked, Your dog showers with you?

Josie felt her face redden. She laughed awkwardly. Oh, you know, on special occasions. Then she squeezed her eyes shut in mortification. Did she just say she showered with her dog /on special occasions?/ The truth was that Genghis jumped in uninvited sometimes. That was it. That was all she had to say. So why didnt she say it? /What was wrong with her?/ The man laughed, too, then tweaked Genghiss beard. Well, my man, at least youll be squeaky clean while kickin Chinese ass.

Josie told Genghis to get off the counter. Thanks, she said, turning to go. She reached the doorway, but had to glance behind her to see him one last time. He was looking at her! Unfortunately, his expression was a combination of sadness and amusement, so, of course, she figured he must have found her pitiful in an entertaining way. And after that exchange, what man wouldnt? He thought she showered with her dog! She kept going.

But she looked againmaybe it wasnt so simple. His eyes showed interest, so the sadness might be about something other than her. Suddenly, he smiled, and she smiled back. Then she left the store, a spark of hope flickering in her heart. /Damn!/ Josie spun back around, charged through the front doors and back toward the grooming salon counter, where her man was already entering someone elses information into the system.

Pardon me, she said, smiling at an older gentleman and his Afghan hound.

This will just take a second.

Josie looked directly into the groomers kind, deep-thinking eyes. Im not usually this forward and I have no idea whats come over me, but you know everything about me and I know nothing about you and I couldnt leave here without knowing your name.

He nodded, a faint smile pulling on his lips. Then, very slowly, he raised his right index finger to the upper left pocket of his blue vest.

He pointed to his embossed nametag.

The names Rick, he said.

Lordy, the elderly man said.

The whole point of Josies return had been to redeem herself, to reveal her bold and decisive nature. Instead, shed just crowned herself Queen of the Dorks.

Nice to meet you, Josephine, Rick said. He reached out his hand to grasp hers.

My friends call me Josie. His hand was hot and smooth and the palm-to-palm contact was so thrilling that her knees threatened to buckle. Okay, so she might have grasped his hand a little too tightly, but he managed to retrieve it.

The old gentleman groaned. For Gods sake, girlie, just hurry up and ask the boy for a date so I can go home and get some shut-eye!

Rick lowered his gaze toward the keyboard and Josie couldnt tell if he was laughing or embarrassed, but she did notice he had incredibly thick, long, dark eyelashes. She stood in awed silence, realizing the universe had filled her order not within thirty days, like that schlubby woman on TV, but within thirty freakin /minutes!/ Shed just been served at the drive-through of true love!

Yep, she was still breathing all right, and according to Mrs. Needleman, that was the only prerequisite for finding a life. But could she be brave enough? She took a deep breath and went for it.

Rick, Id like you to join me for a cup of coffee sometime.

The skinhead chose that moment to walk past with his wiener dog. Be careful, /mate,/ or shell spill it all over you.

Rick nodded, obviously trying not to laugh, then he looked at Josie square-on, those magical green eyes cutting her to the core. I think Id enjoy that, Josie. Ill give you a call later.

Thank God, the old man said.

She was about to ask Rick at which number she could expect to receive the call and his specific definition of the term later, but she restrained herself. Great! A huge smile spread across her face. Ill talk to you later, then!

Is this a pet store or a singles joint? the elderly man with the Afghan snapped at Rick impatiently. Thats the problem with business todayall anyone thinks about is sex! What happened to customer service?

Rick blinked, stunned, watching Josie Sheehan and her Labradoodle clear the double glass doors of the store. What had just happened to him? His skin was tingling and his face felt hot and his head was spinning. His heart felt as if it were filled to capacityand he didnt even know he /had/ a capacity. It felt as if part of his spirit had just cracked open, and he didnt know whether to fear the breach or welcome it.