Page 51 of The Upper Crush

‘I know we’ve been planning this since before Christmas, but the two of you have got to be chill. Okay?’

Chester let go of Joy’s leg and leapt into the front of the car, down into the passenger footwell, where he proceeded to tear receipts Estelle had left there to shreds.

‘For heaven’s sake!’

Swerving to a stop in a layby, she grabbed Chester and went to the back of the car.

‘Time out, Mister. You can go full Berserker when we get there, but right now you need to calm down.’

She opened the boot, then the crate in the back.

Chester started whining.

‘Oh, don’t be like that, little man.’ She kissed his fluffy head.

He licked the end of her nose, his tail wagging against her arm.

Raising her eyes to the wintery clouds, Estelle let out a huff. ‘Okay, okay, but that was your last warning.’

Returning Chester to the backseat with Joy, she restarted the car.

It was less than a ten-minute drive to the manor but it was enough time to send her pulse rocketing. Each time she knew she was going to see James, her tummy swooped and dipped a little more as if she was graduating to higher and higher roller coasters. But now, with her gift for him wrapped in a bag beside her, and Chester and Joy hyped up and ready for action, she wondered if she’d gone too far.

And would her plan even work? Caligula and Borgia were the most uncontrollable dogs she’d ever known, but two words from James had them still and silent at his feet. Would he have the same effect on hers? Even after she’d spent weeks training them to attack his jumper?

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Late. She hated running behind for anything. Getting into the office before James meant that she could compose herself and her sassy game-face. Now all the witty remarks she’d carefully prepared had seeped from her skin and were mingling with the sweat trickling down the back of her neck.

Coming to a stop outside Shoscombe Manor, Estelle clipped leads to Chester’s and Joy’s collars. It was a new place, and she knew they’d want to explore. However, the last thing she needed was to be running after them as they chased anything that moved.

Did James’s parents have a cat? He hadn’t mentioned anything about one when they’d discussed bringing her dogs to work. Shit. If they did, she hoped it was the size and temperament of Henry and Libby’s cat, Mr Pussy, who was an evil bastard to anyone but his owners.

Inside the office entrance, she kicked off her boots, her nose twitching along with Chester’s and Joy’s. The cloakroom held the incredible scent of a freshly-showered James. He was here already.

Both dogs barked loudly, their ears pricking up.

Was this a bad idea? Or a fucking terrible one?

Chester and Joy were now straining against their leads, desperate to head down the corridor towards the smell they’d been getting to know since Sausage Saturday the previous year.

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ she hissed at them. ‘We’re going home. Now sit whilst I put my boots back on.’

The dogs complied.

‘Stay.’

They did.

She dropped their leads and grabbed her boots.

The office door at the far end of the corridor opened, and James stepped out.

Oh, shit.

‘Stay!’

They didn’t, hooning off towards him like Greyhounds with an acute case of the zoomies.

She ran after them, but it was too late. They’d reached him, and were—oh, god.

---