It Started with a Dog, page 24
Harper grinned at Bob’s upturned snout. “See? I told you everything would work out.”
Bob barked at her, calling her out on that little white lie.
Twenty-Three
When Jonah applied to the ACC to sponsor a King Mutt candidate, he had in mind something from the regal canine catalog, like a German shepherd, or a Siberian husky. A dog that would stand in stark contrast to the crooked-legged, surly English bulldog across the street.
It took a couple of days to be approved as an official sponsor, and during that time, Jonah would glance across the street every day and see Bob in one of the window seats of Deja Brew, stretched out like he was on a lounger, dressed in some festive shirt, his head lolling toward the window. One afternoon, Jonah watched as two kids stopped and tapped on the glass, trying to get a reaction from him. Bob refused to indulge them. He pretended they weren’t even there. And when he tired of them, he slowly rolled over and off the window seat, disappearing from view.
Jonah was determined to have a more welcoming dog than Bob. A dog who would adopt the family’s new in-it-to-win-it motto, and eagerly greet people at the door. Like Truck, only gentler and much smaller.
What he got was one of the last rescues approved for the fundraising campaign—a female dachshund who was missing a back leg. Her name was Lulu. Jonah knew Lulu. He had carried Lulu on a walk with Harper and Bob. “She’s perfect,” he said, instantly smitten.
The missing leg didn’t seem to bother Lulu much. She hopped around like she was on a pogo stick and wasn’t the least bit fearful of Truck. She spent the better part of a minute trying to leap up to put her snout to his. In Truck’s eagerness to make a friend, he kept knocking Lulu onto her side. She finally rolled onto her back and let Truck have the full sniff of her. When he was satisfied, she managed to scramble up onto her three legs and hobble off to explore.
“Wow. She’s super friendly,” Amy said, watching her wander around the Star this afternoon. It was Lulu’s first day on the job. They already had twenty bucks in her jar. “But aren’t you a little worried someone will step on her?”
He was, a little. “Let’s hope not.”
Amy’s brother—the metal band guitarist—was an artist in more ways than one. For a nominal fee, he’d made the pie sign and two additional signs. One for the window, announcing their participation in the King Mutt contest. Another, larger sign for inside, announcing Lulu. He’d Photoshopped Lulu’s mug into a big circle of bone-shaped dog biscuits. Beneath the picture was vote for lulu in bold letters.
Next to it, they hung another large sign with Lulu’s platform.
VOTE LULU for KING MUTT*
(*Sponsored by the Austin Canine Coalition)
Lulu vows to:
Slash taxes!
Provide free health care for all!
Reach across the aisle to work with cats!
Put a dog bone in every dog bed!
VOTE FOR LULU!
She is that bitch.
“So you’ve got this, right?” Jonah asked Amy as he shrugged into a denim jacket.
“Of course I’ve got this,” Amy said, her eyes flashing with irritation through her tie-dyed frames that matched her shirt. “First of all, your mother and Belinda are here to help. Second, she’s a dachshund with three legs. It’s not like she can outrun me. What time are you picking her up?”
“Seven. Seven thirty.”
“So get out of here! We’ve got this, Jonah—go be an astronaut.”
“Aerospace engineer, but you’ve only had ten years to remember that.”
“Whatever. Astronaut, engineer, they all spell geek,” Amy said, and gave him a friendly shove toward the door.
He was on his way to his real job. Earlier that morning, Edgar had called. “Dude,” he’d said, as jovial as ever. “What did Mars say to Saturn?”
“You got me, Edgar.” Edgar didn’t have him. Jonah knew exactly what Mars had said to Saturn because Edgar recycled his puns on a regular basis, and this one he’d told no less than five thousand times—a conservative estimate.
“Give me a ring sometime!” Edgar shouted, then laughed long and loud. “Van down in Materials reminded me of that one. I’d forgotten how much I like it. So hey, Jonah, do you think you could swing in for a meeting this afternoon and maybe stick around for a drink afterward? Some of the NASA folks are here and we’d really love for you to listen to what they have to say. And they want to hear from you.”
Of course Jonah could swing by. He was eager to hear what NASA had to say. At first, he’d looked at the desk calendar where they all jotted down notes about everything to do with the Star. He was supposed to meet with Burt to talk about the new menu. “Grass-fed beef for the burgers,” Jonah had told him recently, and Burt had looked at him like Jonah had grown two horns before his very eyes. It was going to take some cajoling, so he’d rescheduled Burt.
He arrived a little early at Neptune Industries and stopped into say hello to his office mates. They were happy to see him, all of them clapping him on the back, reaching out to shake his hand. He caught up on the office gossip and laughed hard at the tale of a propulsion design gone all wrong that had come very close to blowing up the building.
Edgar came in from another meeting and actually gave Jonah a bro-hug, including the obligatory chest bump. From there, they met the team from NASA.
It was fascinating.
Jonah learned about the deep space exploration project in detail, the goals NASA had for it, the desire to push current technology into a new realm.
The conversation continued into drinks. When Jonah stood up to go, one of the guys on the NASA team told Jonah he hoped he would come on board. “We need bright young minds like yours,” one said. “Space is the next frontier, you know.”
Of course Jonah knew that. Anyone raised on a steady diet of science fiction and Star Trek reruns knew that.
Edgar walked with him to his truck. “Enjoy yourself?”
“I did,” Jonah said. “Thanks for inviting me along.”
“Should I remind you of what the job pays? Or that your housing in Spain is paid for?”
“No need to remind me. I haven’t forgotten a single detail.”
“Good,” Edgar said, and clamped both of his mitt-sized hands on Jonah’s shoulders. He peered intently into his eyes. “I really hope to hear from you soon, Jonah. Understand?”
“Understood,” he said. He needed to give his answer sooner rather than later.
As he drove away, he realized that the afternoon and evening spent with his colleagues had dredged up his feelings for the aerospace industry. He loved this work. He missed this work. It was easy to get caught up in the day-to-day of the Lucky Star and to forget the fire in his belly for his real calling. That fire was glowing red-hot this evening. This work excited him and he wanted to do it. He did not want to order coffee beans or grass-fed beef.
He wanted this job in the worst way.
He wanted Harper, too. And his dad to be healthy.
He wanted more than he could have.
* * *
Jonah had chicken in the oven by the time Harper arrived. When she knocked, Truck darted in front of him in his rush to be first. Bob barely glanced at Truck when Jonah opened the door, even with all the barking. He trotted straight for the couch, almost as if he’d been waiting for it all day.
“Hey!” Jonah kissed Harper, then glanced at the dog. “Looking good, Bob.”
Bob sneezed.
They heard a small yap from somewhere near the end of the couch.
Harper stared in the direction of Bob. “What was that?”
Jonah grinned. “Stay right here and I’ll show you.” He went into the living room and fetched Lulu, carrying her under his arm.
Harper gasped. “You have Lulu?”
Lulu was wagging her tail so hard that it was a miracle she didn’t launch from Jonah’s arm and propel herself right into Harper’s chest. “Lulu!” Harper scratched the dog beneath her chin. “You’re so cute. But what are you doing here?”
“Lulu has entered the King Mutt competition, and the Lucky Star is sponsoring her.”
“No way!” Harper cried with delight.
Jonah put Lulu down so she could say hello to her old friend Bob.
Truck knocked Lulu over so that he could be first. But Lulu bounced right up and pogoed to the couch, leaping to see Bob, her tail going in full whirl.
Bob watched the two dogs dispassionately.
Jonah glanced at Harper. Were her eyes welling? “Hey,” he said, and put his arm around her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Harper said tearfully. “Sort of. I just love dogs, that’s all.”
Jonah pulled her into his arms. He kissed her neck, then whispered, “Do you concede the title of King Mutt?”
“No,” she murmured into his shoulder. “Never.”
“That’s my girl.” He slipped a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face. He kissed her, smoothed her hair back. “Come in. I’m making dinner.”
“Oh my God, thank you,” she said weakly, and allowed him to lead her into the kitchen. “It smells delicious.”
“Lemon chicken and new potatoes. I hope you like it.”
“Oh. Disappointing fare, seeing as how my plan was to motor through a box of Cheez-Its tonight. I didn’t know you were a gourmet cook. Why have you not confessed this skill?”
“I guess I learned a few things growing up. I like cooking.”
“Did you learn to bake pies?”
“Not really. I could probably throw one together if I had to, but it is not my forte.”
“Damn,” Harper muttered. “I thought I’d hit the jackpot.” Lulu suddenly raced through the kitchen with Truck behind her. She crashed into the cabinets because of her inability to turn a corner properly. Jonah looked over the top of Harper’s head, in search of the third dog. He could just see the top of Bob’s head. He was sitting on the couch, facing a TV that was not on.
Lulu took off again. Truck was delayed by something interesting on the kitchen floor.
Harper watched Lulu try for Bob’s attention again. “So you copied me.”
Jonah scoffed. “You can’t call it copying when it’s something that the whole town is doing. I saw a black Lab at The Tavern this week. Maybe I copied them.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Sorry, but Labs are a dime a dozen. You saw how awesome Bob is and tried to one-up him with a tripod.”
“That is a crazy conspiracy theory,” Jonah said. “I can’t one-up a bulldog in a Hawaiian shirt. Which, let’s be honest, you put him in because you think you’ve already won. Well, I’m here to tell you, people are stuffing bills into Lulu’s vote jar left and right. They like her platform.”
“Bob doesn’t even have to do anything and they are showering his vote jar with greenbacks. He’s that magnetic.”
“Yeah, he’s a real magnet, all right.”
Harper smiled. “It’s so good to see you, Jonah. I was afraid you’d never talk to me again.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that. I needed a couple of days to get my head together.”
“I did, too, I guess.” She leaned across the bar as he stirred the sauce. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said.”
He winced. “Don’t remind me.” He glanced up from the pan. “But . . . what, exactly?”
“About our two shops.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He wasn’t certain he wanted to hear this right now. He turned off the burner and poured the sauce over the chicken, then left it on the counter to cool. He leaned back, his hands in his pockets. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset, Harper. I was jealous and frustrated with the Star, and that’s it. But it wasn’t fair to take it out on you, and it’s not really like me to do that. I think it was just a culmination of everything.”
“Everything like . . . ?”
“Like . . . having to save the family business. It’s not easy, and it feels imperative, and it’s not something I am either skilled at or interested in.”
“But I am.”
Jonah laughed. “Yes, you are. You want a drink? I could use a drink. How about a gin and tonic?”
“I would love one. It’s been a day.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“I shouldn’t have been so arrogant, Jonah. I didn’t mean to be—I get caught up sometimes and forget the rest of the world doesn’t view life through my eyes. You were right, and it got me thinking.”
Jonah walked to the far end of the bar to get the gin out of a cabinet. “About what?”
“About how we—okay, me—are making a competition where there doesn’t need to be one. Look.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a sheaf of papers as he placed two highball glasses on the bar between them.
“What is that?”
“It’s dated, but it’s the market research we did for Deja Brew before we built. The reason we picked that location is because it is growing fast, and there really aren’t that many coffee places in the area. There is enough business to support us both. We have different clientele. We could make this work, especially if we worked together.”
He snorted as he opened the gin. “Together?”
“Yes, together. I know it sounds crazy, but we could cross-promote. We could help build each other while we build our own business. Like . . . you could put discount burger coupons in our store. We could put discount frappe coupons in your store. Those are just examples of ideas we could come up with, but see what I mean?”
Jonah poured the drinks. “I think so.” He didn’t see. She was right, it sounded crazy.
Her phone rang from deep inside her purse. She dug around until she found it and looked at the screen. “It’s Carly. I asked her to call, but I’m not ready.”
“Who?”
“Carly Kennedy, my publicist. I’ve got some money left on her retainer, and I called her and asked her what she thought, and she agreed, and she said she’d think through some ideas.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Jonah said, holding up one hand. “You’re suggesting we publicize our places together?”
“I am. I think it makes sense.”
“It makes no sense,” he said with a laugh. “First of all, my family isn’t going to want to pay for a publicist.”
“You don’t need to. Not yet. Just wait and see what happens.”
“And second, I’m pretty sure I’d put in a lot of effort only to watch you get all the business because you’re trendier.”
“But that’s just it—the more I think about it, the more I am convinced we have completely different audiences. Do you know how many people we’ve already had walk out and go across the street for pie that is not tiny and is also free? But we’ve had a few come from your shop wanting a frozen coffee drink.”
Jonah slid one of the drinks across the bar to her. He had to be losing it, because it was beginning to make a little sense.
“Respectfully, you know the Lucky Star needs decent publicity. And Carly is the best.”
“Isn’t it a conflict of interest for her?”
“Nope. I asked her. She said she did things like this all the time, represent two clients who did the same sort of work. And then she reminded me that it’s not a competition between us. She said we’ve made it into one, but it’s not a real one. She says it’s just good, healthy capitalism. And she is going to be over the moon that you’ve already signed on for King Mutt.”
He sipped his drink.
“Will you talk to her?”
Jonah pondered this question. “You think the publicity you’ve generated has worked to get people in?”
“It’s hard to say for sure, but I think so. Especially the radio.”
If Harper’s idea worked, and they actually saw some benefit from it, he could take the job and go to Spain. “I’ll think about it,” he said, and tapped his glass to hers. “I mean, since it’s not a competition. Who knows, maybe we can get Suzanna to play at the Star.”
Harper’s eyes took on a gleam and locked on his. “I see how this is going to go.”
“It’s just capitalism. Because we’re a team, right?”
She walked around the end of the kitchen island to where he stood. “What next? Is Lulu going to show up in a Hawaiian shirt?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s not fair—you’ll get the cute pup and the tripod vote.”
“Ha!” He pointed a finger at her. “I knew it was a competition.”
She slapped his finger away from her face. He grabbed her hand and yanked her into his chest. “You turn me on, Thompson, especially when I’ve been missing you.”
“Not as much as you turn me on when you are copying me.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Nope. I wanna prove it.”
He grabbed her head between his hands and kissed her hard. “May the best man win.”
“Person,” she hissed.
He twisted her around and started maneuvering her in the direction of his office, just off the kitchen. Once inside, he kicked the door shut to all the curious canines, and he and Harper fell onto a wide leather chair. Papers he’d left on the arm fell to the floor; one of them kicked over a water bottle. They came together in a blistering swirl of hands and mouths and bodies, whispering how they planned to undo each other, and challenging each other to try and stop it from happening.
Neither of them could stop it. To Jonah, this part of their dating life was the most intoxicating. He’d never had a relationship where he felt so completely in sync with his partner’s desires as he was with Harper. They felt made for each other in so many ways, but in this way in particular. The chemistry was sizzling.
When they were spent, Harper was half dressed and draped across the chair, her legs hanging over the arm of it.
