Page 75 of Must Love Dogs… and Hockey

I’ve told her what happened yesterday. We’re sitting in the back of a taxi on our way to Spyscape. It was her idea; I’ve never been there.

She’s the one who calms me. Who always makes me feel like there’s hope. I need that. I need the distraction too.

“How wasyourday?” I ask.

“Great! I got three calls today from potential clients. I’m meeting two of them tomorrow morning, and another one next week after the holiday weekend.”

“That’s fantastic.”

She grins. “I think they see your name and they figure if Easton Millar trusts me to walk his dog, they can too. So thank you.”

I wave a hand. “I’m sure your reputation is getting known.”

“Aw, thanks. Anyway, with the other clients I’ve gotten the last couple of weeks, I’m getting really busy!”

“That’s so good. You deserve it.”

“Penelope and I were talking the other day.”

I nod. I know Penelope is her friend at the animal shelter. She’s a dog groomer and she volunteers there too, providing grooming for the pets at the shelter.

“I told her someday I’d like to expand from just dog walking to maybe a doggie daycare. And she wants to start her own grooming business. So we thought we could maybe team up.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Right? It would be perfect. We get along great, and I know she’s good with dogs.” She sighs. “We have the same ideas about what we’d want to do with the business. It’ll be a while before either of us can afford it, though.”

“Lilly.” I stop.

She tilts her head. “What?”

“I have money.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know.”

“I mean, I could help you start your doggie daycare, if you want to do that.”

Her eyes fly open. “Are you kidding me?”

“Uh…no.”

“You can’t do that!” She gives her head a violent shake. “And I don’t want that! I’ll do it on my own.”

I wince, remembering her reaction when I offered to let her use my name. “Right. I know that’s important to you.”

Her face softens. “It is. But thank you.”

At Spyscape, she wants to pay the admission for both of us, so I let her, after that conversation. We spend a few hours learning about spies and spy gadgets and doing interactive activities and we get to see James Bond’s famous Aston Martin. “I want this car,” I tell Lilly with a deep longing.

Her eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Seriously. Okay, maybe not this exact one. I should check into dealerships.” A new car might cheer me up.

She gives me a look like I just told her I can fly. “An Aston Martin. Just like that.”

I scrunch up my face. “I, um, can afford it.”

She closes her eyes. “Of course you can.”

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