Gold Mettle (Dogs Love Romance)

  Gold Mettle

  a Dogs Love Romance short story

  Kyra Alexander

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  Copyright © 2014 by Kyra Alexander and Short Stuff Press. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Short Stuff Press

  * * *

  Gold Mettle

  What a mess. The part of business Olivia cannot stand: taxes.

  “You’re a victim of your own success,” Sarah, her accountant, says. “When you make this much money, you are bumped into a different tax bracket. With six employees, it’s expensive to run a business. You could pay people less, but high-quality service is how you’ve built your reputation. Maintaining that payroll and related expenses takes a lot. You know the adage; you have to spend money to make money.”

  “I know. It just bites.”

  Driving back to the shop, Olivia’s mind races with everything she needs to do. Only two dogs today—Patrick and Clarice are grooming the majority of those on the calendar. Thank goodness she hired another groomer. Reducing the number she does herself was the best decision she made in ages. It is saving her hand, which has been giving her fits, and frees up time to attend to details of the business. Now she only takes referrals and temperamental clients who demand to see her.

  Olivia is greeted by the usual muffled hum and whirl of bathing and high-powered dryers from the back. Based on the billowing cloud of fur she sees through the glass, the Newfies made it on time. With music in the background, the groomers are busy in the next room, chatting as they work on their respective dogs.

  “Livvy! Thank goodness you’re here. It’s terrible! I’m almost scared to tell you—”

  “Good grief, calm down Kelsy. I only have two dogs, right? Sassy and the new client referred by Mrs. Tripplet? She’s so uptight, I can’t imagine that dog would be anything short of show quality.”

  “You’d be wrong. This guy shows up with his dog and it’s disgusting. I mean, seriously nasty. None of us wanted to touch him. We put him in kennel nine so he wouldn’t be near the other dogs. Looks totally infested. It’s so sad. We’re going to have to disinfect everything. He’s big, boney, malnourished, matted, filthy. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  “Started asking this dude all the usual questions: Name? How old? Is he allergic to anything? What breed? The owner knows nothing! He put the dog’s name down as Jack, but, worst of all, when he dragged Jack into the shop, he said, ‘Come on, Stupid!’ Can you believe that?”

  Olivia feels her blood pressure rising. An urban shop in an exclusive section of Nashville, they have well-educated, well-heeled clientele. Their dogs are pampered family members, not filthy mongrels owned by ignorant animal abusers.

  She marches past Kelsy, into the back where bathers are working. She peers into kennel nine and feels tears welling in her eyes. What a nightmare. Huddled in the back of the kennel, a pathetic mass of caked, dirt-gray fur and soulful, chocolaty brown eyes. Her mind is reeling.

  A lump in her throat, she whispers, “It’s okay boy. You’re safe here. We’ll take care of you.”

  Back out in the reception area, Olivia tells Kelsy to see if Patrick or Clarice can groom Sassy today. Jack will take her the better part of the day if there is any hope of saving what’s left of his coat.

  After a nail trim, teeth cleaning, bath, tick removal and flea treatment, Jack already looks ten-times better. In fact, he looks young. As she maneuvers and coaxes him onto the table, Olivia has to pull out all her comforting skills to keep him from dissolving into a panic attack.

  Olivia guesses he can’t be more than two or three years old. More remarkable than that, she is certain he is a purebred golden retriever. Not any old golden, but conformation quality. Her mind continues to race around in a fury as she methodically works on Jack from stem to stern.

  How could he end up in the hands of an undeserving, moronic abuser? And what was Mrs. Tripplet thinking, referring such a jerk to her in the first place? And why would Mrs. Tripplet, of all people, even know someone like this cretin?

  Just like many people should not have kids, there are many people who should not be allowed to have animals. This guy should be locked up. Starting to feel like an accomplice to a crime, she ponders whether or not to contact the ASPCA. Animal abuse and neglect are serious matters and should not be ignored.

  Finished with the groom, exhausted and plastered in sweat and fur––tendrils of Olivia’s pulled back hair have been falling into her face for the past few hours––she just wants to head home and get into the shower.

  Exhausted from standing on the grooming table for so long, Jack hops down and gets a bright, blue bandana tied around his neck for his “after” picture. When Kelsy grabs his collar and leash, Olivia notices they are brand new, in perfect condition. No doubt a feeble attempt on the part of his irresponsible owner to act like he cares about the dog. All hat and no cattle as her father used to say. Just the thought of him calling this beautiful creature stupid makes her blood boil.

  The bell over the door jingles and in walks a tall, dark, attractive man. He is younger than most of their clients, around Olivia’s age. Clean cut and well dressed, he smiles warmly and says, “Hi, I’m Adam Monroe, here to pick-up Jack.”

  Olivia’s reverie over the man’s appearance and pleasant demeanor dissolves into anger when she realizes this is the dog abuser. She leaps from her stool behind the counter to lean over at him.

  “What is your problem? What have you done to that magnificent dog? He was covered in fleas, ticks and who knows what else, scared of everything. We spent over six hours working on him and it took every skill my staff and I had just to keep him from bolting off the tables.”

  Eyes wide, Adam Monroe leans away from her, trying several times to speak as Olivia rushes on:

  “How could someone get a young dog like that just to tie outside? That’s right: it was obvious he’d been tied and left to rot in your backyard. Who do you think you are? I have half a mind to report you to the ASPCA and if it weren’t for Mrs. Tripplet referring you, I would have done it already. You, sir, are a criminal and the lowest of the low. You should not be responsible for a begonia, let alone a living, breathing, gorgeous dog like Jack––if that really is his name. He acted like he’d never even heard it before.”

  Olivia must stop for air, waiting to see if Adam Monroe has the nerve or inclination to defend himself. Not that there is any defense. He belongs in jail.

  “Uh. Well … I’m really sorry Jack was in such bad shape and so much work. Please don’t blame Mrs. Tripplet. She’s a friend of my mothers—they work together. She was just trying to be nice when I wasn’t sure where to go to get help. I don’t know anything about dogs.…

  “That is obvious.”

  “I bought a house several months ago here in Nashville. I was concerned because the place next door was in disrepair, but the owner said renters would be moving out soon and he meant to remodel. Well, they did—move out, I mean—but they left Jack behind. Tied up in the yard.”

  Olivia feels a humiliating flush start to bubble to her face.

  “When I realized what happened, I fed the dog for a few days, but they still didn’t come back. I didn’t want to call animal control because I was afraid they might euthanize him, the way he looked. I thought if he was cleaned up, he’d have a chance of being adopted. It probably sounds ignorant, like I said; I don’t know anything about dogs. I figured ju
st like anything, looks matter when people are picking out a new pet. Now when he goes to a rescue group or the shelter, he’ll have a better chance of finding a home. At least I hope that’s what happens.”

  Kelsy, who vanished to fetch Jack, leads the big, boney dog back through the door to the reception area. Jack is crouched almost to his stomach, slinking along at the end of the lead, darting nervous glances in all directions. He brightens when he sees Adam down on one knee with his arms out. Kelsy drops the leash and lets him finish the last few steps to Adam.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Adam’s jaw drops when he sees the dog. “Holy cow! He looks like a brand new dog. He looks beautiful. You think he’s a purebred? Can you tell for sure?” He rubs Jack’s ears, kissing his forehead.

  Olivia chokes back embarrassment to speak. “He’s a golden retriever. Not just run-of-the-mill golden; he comes from high quality stock. He was most likely bred to be shown or at least was a pet quality puppy from a conformation breeder. I’m guessing he is only two to three years old, a vet should know more. And he might have a microchip.”

  “Someone’s going to be happy to adopt a dog like him. He just needs a little fattening up now that you worked your magic. Here, let me pay you and we’ll get out of your way.”

  Kelsy takes his payment and Jack makes a beeline for the door, dragging Adam after him.

  “Sorry to be difficult,” he calls back. “Thank you so much for all your work, very much appreciated!”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get more information,” Kelsy says when the pair are gone. “Sorry I read the situation wrong. We just never have dogs who look like that and—”

  “It’s okay, Kelsy. I’m an idiot for jumping to conclusions and not asking questions myself. I should make amends. If for no other reason, so Mrs. Tripplet doesn’t end up thinking I’m a crazy person. Would you do me a favor? Run to the craft store and get a big basket, then come back here and gather up things from our merchandise for a gift. I’ll drop it by Mr. Monroe’s on my way home. I assume you got his address?”

  “Yeah, no problem. One of the few things he knew when we were doing his paperwork.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The small, craftsman style house with a disheveled, white picket fence does not seem like a typical bachelor pad. Maybe a Mrs. Monroe, then? After ringing the doorbell, Olivia takes a closer look and realizes the house is cute, but definitely need lots of work and some homey touches. Hum, maybe no Mrs. Monroe after all.

  “Oh, hey. I didn’t expect to see you again.” Adam sounds surprised and a little frightened when he opens the door.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to chew you out. I … uh … came to apologize. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions about you and the situation. It didn’t make any sense for Mrs. Tripplet to associate with animal abusers, but.…”

  “That’s okay. Your shop is fancy; I’m sure you don’t get many filthy dogs in there. It would be easy to make assumptions about a dog that looked as bad as Jack did when I found him. And … I’m sure your receptionist heard me calling him ‘stupid.’ I was embarrassed to say that, but sometimes he will come when I call him that. It’s like he started to think that was his name.”

  “Speaking of him, where is Jack?”

  “Oh, sorry. He’s inside. Where are my manners? Would you like to come in?”

  Olivia steps into the foyer. The hardwood floors appear to be newly refinished, but the house in general needs lots of TLC. Glancing around the empty space, she sees Jack cowering in the corner of the living room.

  “Sorry, I have almost no furniture. There’s poor Jack. I think he’s not used to being inside––just having to guess at everything. I wish he could tell me what he needs. He’s pretty good about saying when he wants to go out, stands by the door and whimpers. It’s like he had some training, because he doesn’t make messes in the house, but he’s a nervous Nellie most of the time.”

  She hands Adam the basket with a, “This is for you,” as she steps past.

  “Thanks.” He smiles as she kneels down to offer Jack her hand.

  After a minute, Jack gets up and makes his way over to her. He stands a couple of feet away. He sniffs her fingers, then steps closer so she can gently stroke his chin.

  Adam watches, no longer smiling. “I’ve only been here a few months, but guess he was tied up outside for some time. Do you think he’ll ever recover?”

  “Dogs are resilient. He’ll probably have lingering issues, but I suspect he can go on to have a happy, fulfilling life with the right people. Are you planning to keep him?”

  “Definitely not. I’ve never had a pet and as you may recall, don’t know anything about dogs. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be any good for him.”

  As she strokes Jack’s chest, he lies down next to her and rolls over onto his side. “Are you gone a lot? What kind of work do you do?”

  Adam sets the basket down and walks over to sit down next to Olivia and Jack. “I’m a music producer. I work some downtown and the rest of the time here, in my home studio. It’s the only part of the house that’s finished.”

  “That’s perfect. You’d be a great dad for Jack.”

  “I don’t know. Seems like a lot of responsibility.”

  “Why doesn’t he know his name? Did you rename him?”

  “Not … exactly. I never heard the neighbors call him anything; only yell ‘stupid this’ and ‘stupid that.’ I couldn’t even see him behind the fence. For all I knew, they were yelling at a child or each other.

  “When I was a kid, my best friend had a dog. My parents refused to get one because my sister was allergic. Anyway, Brian’s dog was great: the proverbial brown dog every boy should have growing up. He followed us everywhere, always into something, always ready for a game.”

  “Jack?” Olivia asks.

  “Yep. The first Jack.” Adam grins down at the new Jack lying beside Olivia while she strokes his silky coat. “Hey, since you guys are bonding, would you like to stay for dinner?”

  “Uh, well, I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “It’s no bother. We were just going to grill some seafood outside. Salad and salmon. I’m trying to eat healthier. It’s hard when you are alone, I tend to just grab whatever.”

  “I know what you mean. I don’t cook. Well, I cook, but I’m terrible at it, so default to frozen dinners.”

  “That’s no good. Maybe over dinner, I can give you a few cooking tips and you can give me a few dog tips.”

  Olivia glances up from the dog to smile at him. “Sounds like a deal.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “He’s such a great dog, if you keep up with his exercise and are consistent in your expectations, you should have no problems.” Olivia watches as Jack chases the rubber ball Adam brought with them to the park.

  “I hate to admit it, but you were right,” Adam says. “It took a few weeks, but we are settled into a routine now and I’m not sure who is benefiting more from the relationship, him or me. I am definitely the one with the steeper learning curve. I’m really happy I’m keeping him. He’s so bright and responsive. Thinking about his early life makes me feel sick. He’s an amazing dog.”

  “And you are an amazing guardian. He’s one lucky pup. He even looks great, finally starting to fill out.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for all your help. It’s made all the difference.” Adam pauses and Olivia starts to wonder if something is wrong. Maybe he thinks he’s had enough coaching and her hanging around with them. “I’ve been wondering if you might be interested in having dinner and catching a show one night?”

  “What? Like a date?” Olivia blurts out. Finally! She had just about given up, thinking she had blown her chances after her tirade when they first met. No one wants to date an unstable nutcase.

  “Well, yeah. Like a date, because it would be a date.” Adam looks sheepish.

  “Sure.” Trying to sound nonchalant. “That might be fun.” What the heck? Might be fun?More like, might be the most exciting thing to happen to her in
the last year.

  ~ ~ ~

  Tasha, Olivia’s Shetland sheepdog, bounds into the living room with Jack on her heels.

  “I think we can finally relax: those two hit it off.”

  “Does it matter we’re on Tasha’s turf?” Adam asks. “She’s at home now, but will she be comfortable coming to my place?”

  “She should be.…”

  “That’s good since … I was hoping you’d consider spending more time there.” Adam inches closer to Olivia on the couch and reaches to touch her hair. “Several weeks ago, if someone told me I’d have a huge dog and be involved with a woman who spends most of her time with dogs, I’d have said they were crazy. When I found Jack next door, I was horrified. It was like a bad dream. I feel guilty thinking of it, but it’s because of Jack that I found you.”

  Olivia touches her finger to his lips. “Shhh, don’t feel guilty. You are not responsible for his misery, but you are responsible for the joy and love in his life now. Jack’s only repaying the favor, bringing us together.”

  Adam kisses her fingers, then takes her head in his hands and kisses her so intensely, it takes her by surprise. “I love you, Olivia.”

  Her mind racing, swirling with happiness––this is the first time Adam has said those words and like some magical elixir, her own feelings become magnified by ten.

  “I love you, too.”

  Leaning in for another kiss, a speeding fluff ball jumps between them with her fuzzy squirrel dangling from her mouth. Jack stands at a distance with a panting grin on his face.

  Olivia laughs. “Uh-oh, looks like we may have some toy wars brewing!”

  “That’s okay, as long as we all play nice. We’ll buy another squirrel.” Tasha settles herself between them with her toy and Adam finishes the kiss he started.

  ~ THE END ~

  If you enjoyed Gold Mettle, please leave a review on Amazon and discover more Dogs Love Romance short stories on Kyra’s author page: amazon.com/author/kyraalexander