Rescued Read online

  “Your new girlfriend is a miracle worker,” Brenda mumbled to Chuck as Stella brought another couple over to the cash register. “She might make it look easy, but getting people to give you money for something they are never going to get to see is almost impossible.”

  Chuck nodded and watched Stella walk back to the door. When she had propped herself in front of the door with a flier in her hand, she glanced over at Chuck and grinned. Chuck smiled and waved back.

  “Was it the dog?” Brenda asked.

  Chuck turned her head and stared at her sister blankly. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, was it the dog that cinched the deal for you with Stella, or did you two hook up while you were decorating?” Brenda nudged Chuck’s arm with her own and tried to give her a perverted grin that only managed to look awkward.

  Chuck turned her attention back to Stella as the woman walked an older woman toward the back room and handed her off to Zack. “I didn’t cinch any deal,” she said without looking at Brenda. “She is not my girlfriend, and we are not hooking up.”

  “Then why is Kenna so pissed off?”

  From across the room, Stella waved at her, and Chuck stood at attention. “I think one of us needs to go lead someone through the back to check out the animals,” she said, then walked away from her sister without giving an answer.

  Stella stood beside a grinning, busty redhead. “Chuck, this is Penelope. She’s looking for a cat,” Stella said, and handed the woman off to Chuck.

  Chuck smiled, took Penelope’s hand, and gestured toward the back room. “If you want cats, we definitely have an assortment to choose from.” She stepped back as Gwen and Zack led their customers out toward Landon with new pets in tow. “Of course, we have so many people in today, you don’t want to wait around too long. It seems like the cats are going fast.”

  The woman’s pastel-painted eyelids shot up, and she squeezed Chuck’s hand with her manicured one. “Do you have a big, fat cat back there?” she asked. “I want a cat like me.” She grinned and gestured down at her body, which was dressed beautifully in a pastel gingham print dress in a ‘50s style and pink pumps. “I’m not a little woman, and I need a cat that understands me. A soul brother or sister.”

  Chuck grinned and opened the door. “I know just the cat for you,” she said, and led the woman through the door.

  Before the door closed behind her, she caught Stella’s eye and gave her a wink. Stella blew a kiss back at her, and as Chuck led her guest down to the cat room, her head swam with a joyful thrum of music and color.

  The cat she had in mind was a Maine Coon named Freddie whose owner had gotten sick and wasn’t able to care for him anymore. He was large and majestic, and everyone who saw him fell immediately in love. That is, until he started talking.

  “Right this way,” she said, and opened the door to the cat room. She finally let go of the woman’s hand inside, and found that her customer went straight for him.

  “He’s beautiful,” the woman cooed, and reached her fingers inside the cage to get his attention. “Hello, darling. Would you like to come home with me?”

  Freddie padded forward, looked up into her eyes, and let out a meow that drew the attention of every cat and person in the room. Chuck watched the woman’s face for the same reaction she had seen so many times in the past year – the look of disgust – but didn’t see it. Instead, Penelope’s face brightened even more.

  “Are you talking to me, little man?” she asked, and wiggled her fingers again.

  The cat rubbed against the front of the cage and let her fingers sink into his thick coat. The second yowl was longer, more mournful, and Chuck felt the familiar sensation she had all too often with animals: she wanted him for herself. But she pushed it out of her head.

  “What do you think?” Chuck asked cautiously. She didn’t want to press, but if anyone would love him, this woman might.

  Penelope turned toward Chuck with her hands clasped together against the bow at the front of her high-waisted dress. “He is absolutely perfect. Is he always so vocal?”

  Chuck nodded. “That’s why his previous owners named him Freddie – for Freddie Mercury of Queen.”

  “A sweet name for a sweet boy,” Penelope cooed in a sing-song voice. She turned back to the cage and stuck her fingers in again. “How soon can I bring him home with me and spoil him rotten?”

  Chuck grinned, reached forward, and opened the cage. The cat stepped gingerly into the woman’s open arms and meowed into her ear. Instead of pulling away, she cuddled him close, and he licked the hand she ran over his head.

  “I think he likes you, too,” Chuck said, then led Penelope and Freddie out of the room and down the hall. On her way to the front, she passed Brenda and a family of five as they walked toward the bird room. She hoped they would take the parrot; she would do well in a house full of adoring children.

  With Freddie and his new owner lined up behind two others paying their adoption fees and getting their adoption kits, Chuck walked over and waited behind Stella until she got off her phone. She was having an animated but quiet conversation with someone that wasn’t going her way.

  “This is a big mistake,” she growled, one hand balled up in a fist at her side. “Has anything like this ever happened with me before?” she asked, then answered, “No, it hasn’t.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out through her nose. “I can’t explain it, but maybe you should ask Kathy. She was the last point of contact on the Tritter account.”

  She paused, listened, and nodded her head at the person on the other end of the line. “Yes, I asked her to keep an eye on it while I was working with Theo on Heartbeets.” Stella turned, saw Chuck, and held out a finger to her to wait.

  “Please, Dennis. Call Kathy and ask her for the details. I can assure you that she will be able to clear this all up with Mr. Tritter.” She grunted her assent, hung up the phone, then slumped down in the chair behind her.

  “If there’s something you need to go take care of,” Chuck started, but Stella cut her off.

  “No, no.” She waved a hand, then let her head drop onto the back of the chair. “I never wanted to work with a team, but a few of the projects I’m on are too big for one person, so I ended up in a group where I’m second-in-line.”

  “At least you’re not last in line,” Chuck said, and sat down beside her.

  Stella rolled her head over and gazed up at Chuck’s face. “Unfortunately, it puts me in the position to have a boss instead of just clients, and when one of my so-called coworkers makes a mistake, he calls me to fix it.”

  “I know how that goes,” Chuck grumbled. “That is one of the main reasons we started Saving Gracie’s: the ability to work as a team without a boss.” The thought of Kenna’s face earlier in the morning left her with a queasy feeling in her stomach, so she pushed the thought aside and tried to focus on Stella. “What are you going to do?”

  Stella pushed herself up in the chair and watched the family of five walk out with two birds in travel cages. She waved at the kids as they passed. When the door closed, her smile fell into something less enthusiastic and more real. “I am going to let them handle it. If they can’t do that without me, I will suggest that we consider a change in management, or disbandment.”

  “Does that mean you want them to put you in charge?” Chuck asked with a grin.

  Stella touched the tip of her nose. “Bingo. If I’m the go-to girl, I also want to be the boss. Not have all the work without any of the credit.”

  Chuck stood up to open the door for a family with her favorite Great Dane on a brand new leash. The dog huffed his thanks and one of the women leaned over to shake her free hand.

  “Thanks for all you do here,” the taller of the women said. “It’s nice to be able to bring our kids to such a welcoming place, especially around here.”

  The other woman smiled and patted their son on the head. “Say ‘thank you,’ Presley.”

  “Thank you,” the little b
oy said automatically, but his eyes and attention stayed on the dog.

  “You’re very welcome, sir.” Chuck took a knee and patted the dog on the head. “Take care of Presley, okay, King?”

  The dog licked her face, the women thanked her again, and the family headed out the door. Chuck raised her shirt, wiped the drool from her cheek, and turned around to find Stella smiling at her.

  “What?”

  “Did you really just send home a dog named King with a boy named Presley?”

  It hadn’t occurred to her until Stella said it aloud, but the thought suddenly struck her as funny, and Chuck let out a laugh that leaned toward a giggle. “I guess I did.”

  Penelope walked to the door with Freddie in one hand and her adoption kit in the other. Chuck leaned forward and gave the cat a pet on the head, and got a loud meow in response.

  “He is so precious,” the woman said. She hugged him closer. “Once I get him settled in, I might have to come back for another one. Got any other loudmouths?”

  Chuck grinned. “No one who can sing as well as Freddie, but I am sure we can find someone to suit your taste.”

  Penelope leaned forward and planted a kiss on Chuck’s cheek. “Thank you for all your help. I will certainly be back in a few months.”

  “We’ll be here,” Chuck responded.

  When the woman had gone, Chuck settled back down in the chair beside a bemused Stella.

  “Do you always get such a reaction from women?”

  Chuck shrugged and tried to keep a straight face. “Only the ones with good taste.”

  “Well,” Stella said, leaning toward her slightly, “I happen to think I have excellent taste.”

  “Yeah?” Chuck asked, also leaning in toward Stella.

  “Mhm,” Stella said, her voice dropping low as their faces got closer.

  They were only inches apart when Chuck heard the footsteps fast approaching. She stood as Brenda got to them. Stella jumped to her feet, too; even without knowing Brenda as well as Chuck did, she had a sixth sense for reading between the lines.

  “What’s wrong?” Stella asked.

  Brenda rubbed her hands together. Chuck frowned. Whenever Brenda did that, something really terrible had happened. She stepped forward and took Brenda by the arms gently.

  “What’s going on, Bren?”

  Brenda sucked in a shaky breath. “It’s Stanley. I went in to check on him, because I thought if he looked okay, maybe I could lead a few of the families past him to see why we’re raising money.” She shook her arms free and stuck them into her pockets. “He’s not good. I don’t know what happened, but I think he might be going into shock.”

  Chuck’s whole body went rigid. Ignoring everything going on around them, she ducked through huddles of people, pushed through the door into the hallway, and skirted around new pet adopters to the room where Stanley was being kept.

  The little dog was wrapped in a blanket and lying on his side with a pillow beneath his bottom half. He stared off into the distance with glazed eyes, and his breathing was slow and shallow.

  Chuck reached out for him, but Stella stilled her hands from behind her. “Let Brenda handle it.”

  Chuck looked to her sister. “Can’t you help him?”

  Brenda’s face was twisted in anguish, and she wrung her hands as she looked down at the dog. “Maybe, but he needs surgery. He’ll need blood, an IV, anesthesia...”

  “And Kenna won’t sign off on it,” Chuck finished for her in a flat voice.

  Stella squeezed her hand, but Chuck barely felt it. She turned, looked at Stella for a moment, then pulled her hands out of Stella’s grasp and stepped around her. She stalked to the closed office door, and didn’t stop to knock before barging in.

  A woman sat in front of Kenna’s desk. Kenna was sitting on the desk, her legs crossed, leaning forward to speak low by the woman’s ear. When Chuck opened the door, she sat up bolt straight and glared at her.

  “What are you doing in here?” Kenna asked. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

  Chuck ignored her. “Brenda needs your go-ahead to do surgery on Stanley. He’s gone into shock, and he could die if she doesn’t do something.” She didn’t look at the woman in the chair, but could see her squirm out of the corner of her eye. Good.

  Kenna stood up, crossed the few feet to where Chuck stood, and grabbed her by the bicep. She leaned close. “I do not care what you and your sister need. I am in a meeting, and I do not want to be disturbed. Is it not enough that I let you take over this place with your girlfriend’s gaudy bullshit? Now you want more?”

  Chuck jerked her arm from Kenna’s grasp and got in her face. “Are you saying you want her to let that dog die because you are too busy trying to get into some girl’s pants?”

  The woman stood up, grabbed her bag, and pushed past them. She stopped in the hall. “Don’t bother calling me, Kenna,” she said, then stormed down the hall. They both cringed when the door slammed behind her.

  “Look what you did,” Kenna said. She let go of Chuck’s bicep and deflated before her eyes. “I was so close to getting her to sign on the loan we need to keep this hellhole open. Dinner, some drinks, and a sleepover, and this place could have kept its doors open for another year.”

  Chuck clenched her teeth together. “I know you can’t think of anyone but yourself, but right now another life is much more important than your petty drama. He is dying, Kenna. I know you don’t like the dog. Hell, I know you don’t like me much anymore. But you have to have a heart hidden in there somewhere. You had one when we were together.”

  Kenna let out a humorless bark of a laugh. “You don’t get it, do you?” She watched Chuck fume for a moment more, then waved her off. “Go ahead. Do the surgery. Keep going with your little adoption drive. But this time next week, you will be giving the rest of them away. We’re filing for bankruptcy. This place is through.”

  Chuck gawked at her. “You can’t be serious.”

  Kenna pushed her out the door softly. “Go tell your sister to do what she needs to do. Save the dog. Then both of you need to start looking for a new job.” She turned around and walked back over to her desk and slumped down into her chair. “Hurry up, or she won’t be in time.”

  Chuck stared at her a moment more, then twisted around and ran back down the hall. She bumped into Stella on the way, reached into her pocket, and handed over her phone. “Do me a favor and call Dr. Hamilton. We need him here for the anesthesia ASAP.”

  Stella shook her head, took Chuck’s hand, and led her back into the room. “She already had me call him. He will be here any minute.”

  Chuck turned to Stella and stared stupidly. “She’s doing it?”

  “She said, ‘Screw Kenna. I’m a veterinarian. I can find another job,’ and started making preparations.”

  Chuck slumped down against the wall as a girl with a pair of squirming kittens walked down the hall toward the front door with a heavyset man in tow. She smiled up at them, and waited until they had made their way to the lobby to turn to Stella. “Did she say if she thought he was going to make it?”

  Stella squatted down beside her. She ran her fingers through Chuck’s hair, then pulled her into a sideways hug. “She said it was too soon to tell, but she was going to do everything she could.”

  Chuck knew Brenda would not let the dog go without a fight. She would do anything in her power to save Stanley’s life, and for that, Chuck was thankful. She just wasn’t sure it would be enough.

  CHAPTER 12

  To keep their mind off the tragedy in progress in the back room, Chuck and Stella threw themselves back into the adoption drive with increased fervor. Chuck took over managing the little tour guides for showing the potential adopters to the animals, while Stella led the fundraising efforts for Stanley. She stopped between each customer to send out a Tweet or Facebook post asking for well-wishes for Stanley. The accounts for Stanley, online and off, grew by the minute.

  By the time Brenda walked out into the lo
bby with her hands freshly scrubbed and stripped out of her scrubs, both accounts had reached their goals. The online account had closed, and emails were automatically sent out to the donors thanking them for helping to save Stanley’s life. Later they would receive Stanley postcards, animal-lover tote bags, or a Skype call with Stella to discuss entrepreneurial branding.

  Stella and Chuck finished with the customers in front of them, excused themselves, and ran over to Brenda for the news.

  “Is he okay?”

  “How is he?”

  Brenda looked from one to the other with a soft, sad half-smile. “You two work so well together. I’ve never seen my sister so put together as she is with you,” she told Stella. She looked out at the group of people still waiting to be led to the rooms in the back, to the line of people waiting to pay Fiona, who had taken over for Landon as the cashier, and back to her sister. “This was an amazing effort.”

  Chuck felt like an elephant had landed on her back. Brenda had a tendency to dance around the subject when she knew what she was going to tell you would break your heart.

  “He didn’t make it,” Chuck guessed.

  Brenda sighed and she looked down at their feet. “He is still alive, but he has yet to come out of the anesthesia. I want to give him some time, because of his age, his condition, and the shock. Dr. Hamilton already left. It isn’t likely, but it is possible he will come out of it later...”

  “You were right,” Stella said, her face twisted with hurt. “We should have let him go before. This is cruel.”

  Brenda stepped forward, slipped her arms around Stella, and gave her a quick, tight hug. When she pulled back, she looked into Stella’s wet eyes with a hopeful smile. “If I had decided to do this when I knew it was the right thing to do, he might have had better luck. You want to put the blame on someone? Put it on me.”

  “No,” said a voice from behind them. “Put it on me.”