“How did you know what to order me?” If Addison won’t admit it, maybe he will. “Like, not only do I love that restaurant, but that dish is my favorite of all time. Are you stalking me or something?”
“Stalking you? Come on.” A massive smile appears on his face. “I’m just glad you liked it. And speaking of food, have you decided to come to my sister’s brunch yet?”
Not this again. It’s not that I don’t want to go. It’s that Ido.Me wanting to go is the reason I shouldn’t. “I’m still thinking about it. I really need to get back to work, though. There’s still so much…”
“I know. Tell me how I can help.”
I normally wouldn’t have a bather help with any grooming work, but since I overbooked myself to help my rating and he agreed to help me with this, I show him how to trim the remaining canines’ body outlines, paws, and tails with my tools. I outline exactly what to do on each dog. Hopefully he doesn’t mess up, because that would probably make my rating worse, and his help will definitely save me a few hours of work.
We get into the groove, working harder than ever and barely speaking to each other. As much as I never wanted to rely on anyone, even a dog bather, I can’t deny there’s no way I’d be able to do any of this without him.
Still, even with Bash’s hands on deck, eight p.m. approaches, and we still aren’t finished.
I’m starting to see double.
My hands feel like they belong to someone else as they move, snipping and shaving each dog’s fur to perfection. A dull ache begins in my shoulder blades, and my lower back has been on fire since lunchtime. I step back from Coco, the Maltipoo I’m working on, and release a shaky breath.
“Romilly.” Bash’s hand grazes my back. That simple touch makes my heart thunder in my chest. “Perhaps we should reschedule the rest. I’m sure the owners will understand.”
“But…that’s so unprofessional. And the whole point of this was to please them.” My throat burns with unshed tears. I can’t believe I let this happen. I’ve taken on more than I can handle inthe past, but never to this level. The knowledge that I might have to send some of these dogs home unfinished makes panic and anxiety twist in my chest.
“You’re going to work yourself into the ground.” Bash’s normally casual tone is laced with concern again, just like it was this morning. “Please. You’re all work.”
“I kind of have to be right now.” I mean for it to sound sharp, but I’m so drained, it comes out a low murmur.
“Come. Sit for a moment.” He tethers Coco and guides me to the waiting area at the front of The Paw Spa.
I sit.
Resting my muscles feels unreal. Too good to be true.
I cover my face with my hands in defeat. I hate that Bash is seeing me like this. I’m supposed to be the responsible one. His boss. His future sponsor.
“I’m going to call the remaining pet parents and reschedule them,” Bash says. There’s no wiggle room in his tone, no space for negotiation. This is happening.
I failed.
I swallow back my tears. “Okay.”
He crosses the room to the front desk and picks up the phone. Four dogs is a lot to reschedule, even if it doesn’t sound like it. I die a little inside with each call he makes, even though it seems to be going well. Maybethathas something to do with the way he’s laying his accent on thick and calling everyone “love.”
I stand up, feeling the need to do something. “I’m going to clean up so we can go home.”
Bash nods, the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as he types on the computer.
As I vacuum up the giant wads of fur covering the ground and put our tools away, Bash makes trips from the kennels to the entrance to return each dog to their parents as they arrive.My cheeks burn with shame. I can’t face any of them right now. There’s no way.
When I’m done cleaning, I sit on the ground and let a few tears finally escape.This isn’t you, Romilly. You can do better. You have no choice.
“Are you…crying?”
My gaze snaps up to see Bash standing a few feet away with his brows pulled together. He walks over and extends his hand to pull me up.
I take it and get to my feet. “I’m just frustrated. I can’t believe I messed up like this.”
“It’s not your fault. It happens.” He says it so nonchalantly.
“Not to me.”
