The Lucky Dog Matchmaking Service (3 page)

“Stop that.” Justine checked herself, taking a deep breath as she got to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go to the salon and get you a fresh manicure. You’ll feel better.”

Lara brushed past her mother and grabbed the pristine Burberry trench coat from the closet on her way out the door. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Don’t you dare get that coat dirty!” Justine cried. “Get back here this instant, young lady!”

But Lara slammed the door behind her and ran down the driveway, turning her face up so that rain plastered her long dark hair against her cheeks.

All she wanted was to be left alone, she told herself as she splashed down the sidewalk toward the park. All she wanted was to be invisible.

She didn’t realize she was crying until her nose started running. Burning with anger and rebellion, she wiped it on the sleeve of her mom’s precious trench coat.

Justine would be furious.

Good.

Lara walked for almost an hour, wandering aimlessly until she ended up at the small commercial center on the outskirts of the upscale neighborhood. The bank, jewelry repair shop, and vet clinic were all closed at this hour on a Friday. A large cardboard box rested on the doorstep of the vet clinic. The seams were already starting to come apart from the water seeping up from the sidewalk. Scrawled on the side of the box in black ink was a single word:
FREE
.

Lara knew what she would find before she even looked inside and, sure enough, when she opened the top flap she discovered a tiny black puppy, shivering and huddled in the corner.

She was frozen in place. A thousand thoughts seemed to surface—first and foremost:
mine.
When the puppy peered up at her with pleading brown eyes, Lara’s purpose became clear to her.

When she found her voice, she murmured, “Everything’s going to be okay.” And for once she truly believed that. She reached for the puppy. It scrambled into her hands, tumbling over its feet to get closer to her.

This lonely little creature
needed
her.

Almost as much as she needed it.

She picked up the dog and tucked it underneath her coat, nestling the tiny trembling body next to her chest.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

The puppy whimpered at the sound of her voice. Then it peed on the lining of Justine’s coat.

Lara ran all the way home and when she opened the front door, her mother commanded, “Change into dry clothes. You’re going to catch pneumonia.”

“In a second. I’ve got to take care of my dog first.” Lara unbuttoned the coat and produced the shivering, skinny little pup. “Mom, meet Beacon.”

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. You are not keeping that thing.
We
are not keeping that thing.”

“Oh yes, we are. And you’re wrong, Mom. Soul mates
do
exist.”

* * *

Lara gazed up at her boyfriend with the same steadfast conviction she’d shown her mother all those years ago. “My dog Beacon saved my life in high school. He kept me sane through all the crazy drama of adolescence. He got me through college, my first jobs, a bunch of crappy apartments, and bad breakups. My mom could never understand why I loved him so much, since he wasn’t beautiful and he didn’t have a fancy pedigree, but there was just something about him.” She smiled wistfully, remembering the tiny, floppy-eared Chihuahua mix. “He died two years ago, and I’ll probably never have that same connection with another dog. But I know it exists, and my job is to match people up with the dog that can save them the way Beacon saved me. This is my calling. Love me, love my dogs.”

“I do love you.” Evan cupped her cheek in his palm. “And I’m sure I’ll start loving the dogs, too. Plus, they’ll motivate me to learn how to install drywall.”

“That’s the spirit. Now give me five minutes to change, and let’s go have dinner far away from the scene of the crime. And when we get home”—she slid her hands up his biceps and gave a saucy smile—“I have some interesting ideas involving nudity and that bowl of frosting.”

Chapter 3

Lara white-knuckled the station wagon’s steering wheel the next morning as she gunned the car down the quiet suburban street and screeched to a halt in front of her best friend’s house. Not pausing to yank the keys out of the ignition, she dashed across the driveway and rang the bell.

“Thank God you’re here,” Kerry said when she opened the door. A tiny, square-jawed redhead with a huge personality, Kerry was the cofounder with Lara of their canine rescue group, Lucky Dog. Although she was in the final weeks of pregnancy, she had managed to maintain her wiry frame, and she looked like she’d tucked a volleyball under her maternity tank top.

Lara scanned her friend for signs of distress. “I couldn’t even understand your voice mail. Are you in labor?”

“No, no, I’m fine, but we’ve got a mastiff on the loose. Titus got out of the yard somehow.” Kerry opened the door wider to accommodate her belly, and a little yellow terrier streaked out between her feet. “Murphy, no! Not another one!”

Lara raised her hand, snapped her fingers, and commanded gently but firmly, “Come.”

Murphy stopped in his tracks, pivoted, and trotted back with his mouth open in a naughty dog grin. He sat down at Lara’s feet and looked up expectantly for his treat.

“Good boy.” Lara reached down, put a hand on Murphy’s collar, and motioned for Kerry to sit on the front stoop. “Calm down. Breathe.”

“What the hell?” Kerry remained standing. “How come all the dogs listen to you and ignore me? I told Titus to come, and he galloped off like he didn’t even hear me.” She started toward the station wagon, bracing both hands on her lower back. “We have to find him. And we have to take your car, because there’s no way Titus is going to fit into that stupid car Richard bought me.”

“You mean the brand-new German-engineered convertible in your garage?” Lara said. “That ‘stupid car’?”

“That’s the one. German engineering doesn’t do you any good when you’re trying to squeeze your third-trimester belly behind the wheel and a mastiff in the passenger seat.” Kerry scowled. “I’m trading it in for a minivan. Mark my words.” She climbed into Lara’s car. Murphy leapt in beside her and braced his front paws on the dashboard. “Hurry! Head toward that white house and then go around the block.”

Lara started the car and eased into a five-mile-per-hour cruise. “Why the hysterical voice mail? This is a nice neighborhood; there’s hardly any traffic. I’m sure Titus won’t get hit.”

“I’m not worried about traffic.” Kerry rolled down the window, listening for telltale barks. “Last time he got out, he dug up our neighbor’s flower bed. She was furious, and her husband is a gun enthusiast.”

The car crawled down the wide, empty street. As both women—and Murphy—searched for any sign of Titus, Lara recounted the previous night’s birthday cake debacle.

“So basically, you distracted Evan with sex and sugar,” Kerry summed up.

“Correct.” Lara turned right as Murphy stuck his nose out the window and whined.

“But now everybody’s happy?”

“Until the next canine crime spree.” Lara scanned yards on both sides of the street. “That’s the problem. I can’t keep all five dogs out of trouble forever. And even if I could, there’s always a new one coming down the pike. Jason from the Shayland Animal Hospital just left me a voice mail. He’s got a Rhodesian ridgeback mix he wants me to evaluate this afternoon.” Although she taught private obedience classes evenings and weekends, Lara’s “real job” was being a veterinary drug rep. She visited local clinics on behalf of a pharmaceutical distributor. The job didn’t offer great benefits and her salary consisted mainly of performance bonuses, but there were other perks. Such as substantially discounted medical care for the sick and injured dogs she and Kerry took in. “Apparently, this one’s got some kind of funky skin condition. Evan’s going to love that.”

“Hang on a second.” Kerry grimaced and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I swear this kid’s doing the Worm in there.”

Lara’s eyes widened as Kerry winced again. “Listen to me. Do not start having contractions.” She grabbed the stainless-steel water bottle from the cup holder. “Drink. Stop stressing.”

“I’m fine. I have at least two more weeks to go. Plus I refuse to give birth until Richard gets back from Russia.” Kerry’s husband was a corporate trainer for an international company that sent him all over the world.

“Which will be . . . ?”

“Friday. Saturday at the very latest.”

“Which way now?” Lara asked after they’d circled the block to no avail.

“Turn right. There’s a playground a few blocks over, and you know Titus loves little kids.” Kerry chugged some water. “I’m sorry about Evan and the cake, Lar. This is my fault, really. If I hadn’t gotten married and moved out on you last year—”

“Eventually the landlord would have figured out we were in total violation of the two-pets policy and evicted us, anyway,” Lara finished. “I should never have let Evan talk me into moving into his place. But you know how he gets. He made an actual PowerPoint presentation demonstrating how I couldn’t swing the rent at the other house by myself much longer and how I could redirect a huge portion of my monthly income toward rescue expenses if I shacked up with him.”

“You can’t argue with his PowerPoint presentations.”

“I know. He had pie charts and everything. And he signed a contract swearing to become a dog person.” Lara paused at a stop sign. “Although it was written on a paper napkin and signed at a bar, so I’m not sure it’s legally binding.”

“Well, then, he better get with the program. Especially if he wants to get married.”

Lara tapped the brake at the mention of the M word. “Slow down. I just moved in with him last month. No one’s talking about marriage yet.”

Her friend smiled knowingly. “Maybe
you
aren’t.”

“Meaning . . . ?”

“Last time he saw Richard, he asked for the name of the guy who designed my engagement ring.”

“What?” The car came to a standstill. “When did this happen?”

“Right about the time you were moving in.” Kerry paused for a few moments, then added, “You can keep driving, you know.”

Lara pulled up next to a grassy neighborhood park, which was empty except for two young moms with strollers. “Excuse me,” she called. “Did you see a giant brown dog run by?”

The women shook their heads, so Lara turned left at the next corner and doubled back toward Kerry’s house. She didn’t realize her fingers had closed around the wheel in a death grip until Kerry reached out and patted her hand.

“Why are you freaking out? You love Evan, right? And he loves you.”

Lara nodded, her throat dry.

“So why the panic attack? Diamond rings are delightful.” Kerry stretched out her left hand and examined her bare fingers. “Although I had to take mine off last month since my fingers are so swollen.”

“Marriage is just so permanent. I mean, that’s a serious commitment.”

“You’ll commit unlimited time, money, and energy to any random stray dog off the street,” Kerry pointed out.

“Committing to a dog is one thing. But committing to a guy . . . I just don’t think I believe in happily-ever-after.”

Kerry finished off the water, then declared, “That’s your mother talking. Look, your family is totally jacked; I get it. But good marriages do exist, and Evan’s a great guy. The man made you a cake from scratch. Lock him down and throw away the key.”

“Evan doesn’t want to marry me,” Lara said. “He wants to marry the
image
he has of me. What’s he going to do when he finds out what a lunatic I really am?”

Kerry closed her eyes and shifted in her seat. “
Oof
. It’s like my uterus is a hotel penthouse and this baby is a rock star on a three-day bender.”

Lara chose her words carefully. “Do you think Richard will be home more after the baby’s born?”

Kerry stilled, but kept her eyes closed. “Nope.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I knew what his schedule was like when I married him. Besides, I’ll manage just fine. I’ve provided round-the-clock care for entire litters of puppies. Taking care of one little human will be a breeze compared with that.” She opened her eyes and glanced at Lara, almost daring her to contradict this. “What?”

“Nothing.” Lara shrugged one shoulder. “You know, you might consider cutting down on the dogs until after you have the baby and get the new routine down.”

“That’s what Richard said, too.” Kerry looked stricken. “But hear me now and believe me later: I’ll never be one of those people who has a baby and forgets her dogs even exist.” She sighed. “So you found a match for my sweet little Murphy, huh?”

“Murphy’s match found me,” Lara said. “And I’ve got a good feeling about this one.” She provided a quick rundown of Peter’s life circumstances. “This guy is committed, and he’ll listen to my recommendations about nutrition and training. Most single men won’t consider a little terrier; they insist on a ‘manly’ dog like a Rottie or a shepherd. But this guy melted as soon as he saw the pictures. I told him I’d talk to you and set up a meet and greet.”

“But I love Murphy. He’s special.” Kerry basked in Murphy’s look of infinite adoration. The same look he gave anyone who had food, toys, or a desirable spot on the sofa.

“They’re all special,” Lara reminded her. “And anyway, he has a greater purpose in life—to score chicks for the dumped and downtrodden.”

“Well, if you think this is the guy, I’ll take you at your word. You do have a one-hundred-percent success rate.”

“Except for Mullet.” Lara sighed. “Evan says that Mullet is nobody’s soul mate, and as much as I hate to admit it, he may be right.”

Half-blind, grouchy, and prone to digestive woes, Mullet was a shaggy white Shih Tzu mix that had been dumped at a county shelter with no explanation. Her coat had been so matted and snarled that Kerry’s dog groomer had to completely shave her front legs and stomach, leaving a floppy cape of fur around her haunches that they affectionately started referring to as a mullet. Although her coat eventually grew out—sort of—no amount of grooming and training could change her grumpy, contrary disposition.

“Mullet’s future owner is out there somewhere,” Kerry predicted. “Probably waving his cane and yelling at kids to stay off his lawn.”

Lara opened her mouth to reply, but Murphy’s whining suddenly intensified as the car headed up a hill.

“Oh no,” Kerry breathed as they heard a series of booming barks. She pointed at the construction-paper sign taped to the light post on the corner:

BELLA’S BIRTHDAY PARTY THIS WAY!

Lara’s stomach plummeted. Murphy started scratching at the car window.

The barking grew louder and louder.

And then Lara lunged for the door handle as she heard the sounds of children shrieking and balloons popping.

* * *

“Sorry I’m late.” Lara used a crumpled tissue to wipe the sheen of sweat off her forehead as she met her friend Jason at the door of the vet clinic. “Titus crashed a preschool party.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. “The mastiff?”

Lara nodded as he led her back to the exam rooms. “He slipped past Kerry this morning and galumphed right into a Disney princess bounce house. Toddlers everywhere. Mass hysteria.”

“Is everyone okay?” Jason handed her a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

“Well, there were a few tense moments when he spooked the pony, but then Kerry put the saddle on Titus and let the kids ride him instead. After that, he was the life of the party. In fact, one of the moms gave me her card. I think he may have found a new family.” She took a sip of coffee. “Thank you.”

Jason lowered his voice as he opened the door. “No sudden moves. This poor guy is practically catatonic.”

Lara took one look at the scrawny, scabby red mutt cringing in the corner and started oohing and aahing. When she offered her upturned palm for an introductory sniff, the dog shrank back and lowered its head.

“My neighbor found him abandoned in the yard,” Jason reported. “I guess the renters there moved out and left him behind. He’s pretty young—I’d say nine months to twelve months. Not neutered, of course. I think he’s spent most of his life on a six-foot chain staked to the ground.”

“Yikes.” Lara peered closer to inspect the series of open, oozing puncture wounds dotting the dog’s flank. “I can’t tell if these are from an injury or a skin condition.”

Jason leaned in next to her. “That’s why I was thinking valley fever. We’re running blood work, but the results won’t come back for a few days.”

Lara doled out a reassuring pat, stepped back, and announced, “Homeboy’s a hot mess. Good thing I love a challenge.”

The dog turned toward her and thumped his tail.

“Look who’s in love already. Your pheromones must smell like bacon.”

Lara laughed. “Stop—I’m blushing. He needs a name. Care to do the honors?”

They both cocked their heads and studied the dog, who refused to look back. Finally, Jason said, “Linus?”

“Sounds good. Linus it is.”

Jason mirrored her furrowed brow. “You look worried.”

Lara exhaled slowly, rocking back on her heels. “I’m not worried.”

“Do you think you can take him? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I couldn’t dump him at the shelter. He’d never get adopted, looking the way he does.”

“Really, it’s no problem,” she said firmly. “Are you kidding me? Remember the Dalmatian with the impacted tooth and the gangrene in his leg? Compared to that, this is nothing.” She babbled for a bit, citing examples of starving, scarred, and deeply traumatized dogs they’d rescued together.

Jason waited patiently for his turn to speak. “Valley fever is a pretty big deal. If you’re worried about your health—”

Lara petted the dog and confessed the truth. “Oh, I’m not worried about my health. I’m worried about my boyfriend.”

“Why? Is he immunosuppressed?”

“No, but I think he might be at the end of his leash, so to speak.” She gave Jason the rundown on Evan, Maverick, the cake, the drywall, and the phantom engagement ring. “He claims he’s going to become a dog person, but I don’t know.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“What?” Lara demanded.