Page 9 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

He slows, then turns toward me with a look that says this is all just a grand game. Tail wagging, he trots back in my direction, allowing me to scoop up the leash once more. “Gotcha.”

I call his name again and pull a tug toy out of my bag. It catches his attention right away, and he grabs hold of one end while I shake the other.

“Sorry about that,” Isaac says as he walks up to us. “As I said, he’s a lot.”

“It’s okay.” I smile. “It’s not abnormal at all. Has he had any training before?”

“Uh, I don’t think so. He was… I didn’t expect to adopt him. He belonged to my dad. Baxter just came to live with me yesterday.”

Belonged? Where is Isaac’s dad now?There’s a hint of something else in his voice now, a depth that wasn’t there a moment ago.

“That’s a big change,” I say, handing Baxter’s leash back to him. “Stressful. Dogs need time to adjust, just like we do.”

Isaac studies me for a moment, then nods. “You have a real knack for this,” he says, and there’s a glint of respect in his eyes that wasn’t present when I arrived. “Would you consider taking the job right away? I can pay extra to cover it being last-minute. And I know you’re probably booked for the week, but if you could fit me in, I would really appreciate it.”

The offer hangs in the air, heavy with opportunity. It’s nice of him to assume that I’m booked with clients, when really it’s anything but the case. And the promise of extra money is so tempting. I need it, and the shelter dogs need it.

And yet… I hesitate. Not because I doubt my ability, but because I’m unsure of him. Something tells me the dog will be the easy challenge, but the man… the man is infinitely more complicated, probably in need of more teaching than Baxter when it comes to coexisting with another species. The way he reacted when Baxter ran off, you’d think he had been personally victimized.

Yet, the promise of financial stability tugs at me more strongly than any misgiving. This could be the break I’ve been hoping for, the chance to grow my business and, in turn, help more animals in need.

“I’d love to,” I tell him. “Count me in.”

“Great,” he says, a genuine smile appearing for the first time. “Baxter seems to like you already.”

Isaac checks his watch, the lines on his forehead deepening with urgency. “I’m sorry this was short, but I need to get back to the office. Can we schedule our first session? Tomorrow morning work for you? And where is best?”

“Your home would be great… It helps to see how the dogs respond to their living situation,” I quickly add, before he thinks that I want to come over to his house for some other reason.

Which, I then realize, is silly. My crushing on this man doesn’t mean he would even give me so much as a second glance.

“I’ll text you the address. Eight a.m.?”

“Sure,” I respond, tucking a stray hair behind my ear as I try to ignore the quickening of my pulse. “Bright and early, then?”

“Perfect.” He seems to want to say something else, but the pause is quickly replaced by another smile. “Baxter will be waiting.”

I watch Isaac walk away, his silhouette shrinking in the distance, Baxter trotting beside him until they turn a corner and disappear from view, and then I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and make my way to the car.

Slipping behind the wheel, I pause, my hand hovering over the ignition. A sudden urge to understand this man who has come into my life so unexpectedly prompts me to pull out my phone instead. With a few taps, Isaac Lennox’s world unfolds before me. The articles paint a picture of a man both revered and scrutinized, a son of a tycoon who commands with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue.

And then, I see it — a headline that stops my heart for a moment:

Real Estate Mogul Robert Lennox Passes Away Unexpectedly.

The date stamps the news at less than two weeks ago. The article says little about the cause, but the impact is clear — Isaac has recently lost his father, the anchor of Lennox Realty, the empire now resting on his lone shoulders.

A pang of sorrow grips me, mingling with a familiar ache. It’s an echo of the void that’s been part of my own life for years, ever since I stepped away from my parents’ volatile shadows. Even though not talking to my parents on the regular is a choice, not having a loving presence in my life feels like a curse.

I wonder about the last time Isaac saw his father. Did they part on good terms, or was their last conversation a disagreement about something trivial? Did they even say goodbye to each other?

Sympathy warms the edges of my initial impression of Isaac. Maybe his brusqueness wasn’t entitlement, but a shield against a loss too fresh to touch.

Either way, he’s not my assignment. Baxter is.

At least, that’s what I tell myself. I already know, though, that it’s not enough to teach a dog. You have to teach the human too. And I suspect that Isaac Lennox could be carrying even more baggage than Baxter and Finn combined, and sooner or later, in one way or another, it will become my problem.

CHAPTER 6

---