Page 35 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

He doesn’t understand, let alone believe. I can see it in the rigid set of his shoulders, the wary flicker of his gaze.

“We’re full again, huh?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

She nods. “Yeah, and a couple of people have already called this morning about dogs they found. We had to turn them away.”

My gaze drops to the floor. We’re not the only shelter at capacity, and that means that sometimes — unfortunately — dogs will have to end up staying on the streets.

“I’ll let Prince get adjusted,” I say, swallowing down the knot of pain. “And then I’ll check in with him and start some training.”

“Thanks.” She gives me a grateful look. “The sooner we can get him adopted, the sooner we can give another dog a bed.”

“Exactly,” I agree.

I watch her take Prince to the last kennel, my chest all twisted. I refuse to stand here feeling helpless, though, like life is against us and there’s nothing we can do. Instead, I’ll take action. There are dogs to train, and I can volunteer to spearhead organizing the event Ricki and I were talking about.

No matter what the circumstances are, there’s always a choice. An action to take or a new perspective to adopt. I only wish that it could be simpler, though.

What if I asked Isaac for the money we need?

The moment I have the thought, I laugh out loud at myself. How silly. I’ve never gone begging for money, and I’m not about to start.

Yet I can’t help but think about how little something like twenty thousand would mean to Isaac and how much it would mean to this shelter. I won’t ask for it, though. I would rather work my fingers to the bone before doing something like that — especially because I don’t want Isaac to think I’m interested in him for his money.

The truth couldn’t be further from that. Isaac is?—

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out to see a text from him.

Baxter says hi… And so do I :)

My lips stretch into a grin. Isaac is a light in my life. That’s what he is. A sign of hope, a reminder that things can and do get better.

With that reminder in mind, I grab a leash and go to find my next student.

CHAPTER 18

ISAAC

The hum of my office fades to a murmur. I’m here, but not quite. Baxter snores softly from his dog bed in the corner, while I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as if it holds answers.

Did I push too far last night? Emily’s smile, warm yet reserved, replays in my mind. She was pleasant, sure. But she left early. Evasion or simply tired? Others linger for the prestige, the allure of wealth. Not her. That’s rare. Refreshing.

I glance at my phone. We’ve texted a few times today, but it’s been hard to get a read on her mood. I’ve been telling myself to be patient, to let things unfold naturally and in their own time. But the “what-ifs” claw at me with relentless urgency. I can’t wait. So, I type out the words that have been circling my thoughts since dawn.

Would love to see you again soon.

I hit send.

There we go. It’s done. I add my office address, telling her that I would love to give her a tour of the place today if she has thetime. I already know she probably won’t come; work claims her time as it does mine. Yet, hope flickers — a candle that can’t fully die.

Refocusing, I dive back into spreadsheets and projections, the tools of my trade. Numbers blur, formulas tangle. Instead of profit margins, it’s the curve of Emily’s lips that I see.What would it be like to kiss her, to feel the soft pressure and warmth?

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the fantasy.

But the image persists, tenacious as the memory of her laughter, light and genuine. In my mind, we’re no longer separated by decorum or hesitation. We’re close, closer than ever before. And just before our lips meet…

“Isaac?” A voice cuts through daydreams.

I shake my head, realizing that it’s Carol, speaking through the intercom.

---