Page 45 of The Attack Zone
I’ll take it.
“I’ll never bring it up again if you have lunch with me,” I say. Stacey might not want to admit that she’s jealous, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend more time with her.
“Now?” she asks.
“You have to eat, right?” I say.
“I was going to eat while I work,” she says.
“It’s a Sunday, love. Live a little,” I say.
“Fine,” she says. “I guess a little break wouldn’t hurt.”
I turn onto Colorado Boulevard and head north towardsdowntown, where we both live. We’re driving past one of the shelters my non-profit funds when Stacey gasps.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, slamming on my breaks.
“The sign says they have new puppies,” she says.
“Jesus. You scared the shit out of me,” I say. “And they always have new puppies, it’s an animal shelter. That sign is always there to attract new people.”
“Do you want to go in?” she asks.
Of course I do. I love animals more than most people. And since I can’t have a dog of my own, I love stopping in to snuggle the ones who need some extra love. But that’s always been a solo activity, no one knows about it. So why am I turning into the parking lot?
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to check in on things since we’re a major funder of this place,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “If you’re sure you have time?”
“I can make time,” Stacey says. “It’s basically a business trip.”
“Right,” I say. “Exactly.”
CHAPTER 23
STACEY
Ishould not have suggested this.
When I saw the sign, I thought maybe we’d stop in quickly and grab a few photos of Mitch taking a tour forRebounds for Rescuessocial media or something. I didn’t think it through, though, because now I’m sitting in a room with a very adorable, very nervous pit bull puppy while Mitch tries to coax it out of its crate.
“She’s so nervous,” he says. “Poor thing had her ears snipped too.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“It means they were planning to use her for dog fighting,” he says, voice dripping with sadness. “It’s okay, Bella, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe now.”
“They literally cut her ears off?!” I ask, anger filling me.
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s terrible.”
So, so terrible. I guess that explainswhy the normally impatient Mitch has been sitting here waiting for her to come to him for ten minutes already.
“Why don’t you try?” he asks. “She might be afraid of men.”
“Oh, I ...” I say. “I don’t know. It seems like this is more your area of expertise.”
“She’s a puppy, not a piranha. It’ll be fine,” he says.
He’s looking up at me with puppy dog eyes bigger than Bella’s, and evidently I’m incapable of resisting them both because I cross towards the crate and squat down.