Only With You Page 5

  "Anything for my fans." Josh grinned from ear to ear and held out his arms. He turned to Emma. "I'll meet you guys inside."

  "But Josh—"

  "Five minutes," he insisted.

  Knight leaned in to Emma's neck. "You weren't expecting him to actually contribute, were you?"

  Emma snarled and walked inside. The door chimed, and as they entered the office, they were greeted by a flurry of activity and high-pitched whelps and yips. Behind the counter, a tall man in jeans and a white doctor's coat glanced up from a clipboard.

  "Emma Greene. Come on inside." He waved his pen to motion them closer. "Let the door shut behind you. We have the air-conditioning going to keep all the furries comfortable."

  "You know who I am?" Emma asked. She'd made all her arrangements with the shelter via email or over the phone, so she wasn't sure how he'd placed her.

  "I'm the director of operations here, Frank Churchill. I see your face every day." He pointed his pen to the wall behind her. "Can I get you all to sign in?"

  Anne accepted his clipboard, but Emma turned around to study the wall filled with dusty framed photos. Her mother and father at a fancy dinner. A few other crowds at black-tie events. Frank standing between her parents at yet another dinner. One photo of her mother holding Emma tightly against her side, both of them grinning. Emma remembered the event from two years ago: the shelter's annual donor thank-you dinner where they had named a rescue pony after her mother.

  "You look happy in the photo," Knight said, studying the frame, too. "But I can tell you aren't. Not really. It's the wrinkles at your eyes when you smile. You do that when you don't mean it."

  "I don't have wrinkles under any conditions." Emma touched the corners of her eyes self-consciously. She hadn't realized how much Knight saw when he looked at her.

  Knight leaned closer to the wall and drew his finger over the glass, just around her face. His voice dipped to a whisper. "You're upset here. I know it."

  Emma scowled. "It was ages ago, but yes, I was. My mom had just told me she was sending me to the Academy. I felt like she was shipping me off. We were arguing. But then the photographer showed up."

  "And you smiled for the camera," Knight finished.

  Emma took the clipboard from Anne and signed her name beneath the waiver then handed it to Knight. She smiled brightly at Frank. "So you've met my parents."

  Frank nodded at the photo. "An honor. A real honor. Your parents' support of the shelter is above and beyond."

  "My parents are completely inspirational." Emma leaned against the counter. "I hope I can do as much good as they've done."

  "That would be a tall order, but this weekend's event is a good start. For anyone."

  Emma felt her smile falter but forced it back. She touched her fingertips to the corner of her eyes, worried the tension would wrinkle the skin there after what Knight had said.

  Frank Churchill was right. If she wanted to be anywhere as successful as her parents then she'd have to try twice as hard. "What can we do for you today?"

  "We're hoping to split you into two teams. We need one group working with the animals. A few of them need walks and baths and just a little love. We need another group getting the adoption packages ready. Printing out the adoption registration forms, as well as the pet information and care sheets." He turned around and grabbed another clipboard, which he set in front of her. "Instructions here."

  Emma studied the instructions. Simple enough. They outlined the proper way to use the shower system, how they needed the animals catalogued for adoption, that sort of stuff.

  "Wherever you need us, Emma," Anne offered the same time as Rick said, "Ready for my marching orders."

  The two shared a secretive glance before Rick's face turned stony and he looked away. Emma's heart panged for Anne. She was never going to get over Rick if he kept dangling the possibility of him in front of her. But Emma knew for a fact that Anne had offered her heart to Rick earlier in the year, and he had returned it callously. She didn't want to see her friend hurt twice.

  Fortunately, Josh chose that exact moment to breeze in through the door, stand between them, and drop his hand casually over Anne's shoulder. "What did I miss?"

  Emma handed him the waiver. She pictured Josh worshipping Anne as she cradled a fluffy kitten in her hands and soft puppies nipped at her ankles. How could he not fall in love with her?

  "Knight, Rick and I will stay out here putting together the adoption packages. Anne, how about you and Josh work with the animals in back? They need showers and walks."

  "Ooh, sorry." Josh shook his head. "Allergies. Massive. I'm going to need to keep a desk job."

  "I'm sure they have allergy medication—"

  "Emma, seriously." Josh's charming smile slid off his face. "I want to help out, but I can't be in a room full of dogs and cats. Think of these baby blues." He pointed to his eyes. "You want to see them red?"

  "Josh, come on. Isn't that a little superficial?" Emma clutched the clipboard, hard, and tried to contain her glare. Why was he being so difficult?

  "I'll handle the animals," Rick said. "I kind of miss having a dog."

  "What happened to Mooshu?" Anne asked.

  "Had to give him away after Mom got sick."

  Anne rested her hand on Rick's arm, and he squeezed it.

  Emma saw red. "Josh, picture the media shots of you with all the cute puppies. We're talking a full spread of US Weekly's 'Stars Are Just Like Us' page."

  Josh cocked his head to the side, considering it.

  She dug through her purse and handed him her allergy medication. He accepted it with a heavy sigh but popped a pill into his mouth.

  She tapped the clipboard, back to business. "Knight, Rick, you're with me."

  Frank rapped the counter, and she swiveled around to face him. "You know, Emma, it wouldn't hurt to have three volunteers with the animals. It's easier if one person is distracting the dog and keeping the dog still while the others work on soaping up and rinsing off."

  "Or three working the info folders," Emma countered sweetly. "We can set up an assembly line for updating, checking, and alphabetizing the folders."

  "I appreciate that," Frank said. "but volunteering should really be fun for the people involved. If Rick wants to work with the animals, well…"

  Emma swallowed hard and felt air catch in her throat. She tried so hard to make things perfect. She worked so hard to make sure everyone was happy, but no matter how much she thought she'd considered every angle, there always seemed to be something that slipped by. Would she ever be as good at this as her mother?

  "You're right." She bit out the bitter words. "Knight and I will work on the files. Anne, Rick, Josh—take good care of the pooches."

  Josh held the door to the cage room open for Anne. That, at least, was a good sign. With the door open, the yipping and howling escalated to ear-piercing. As she watched the three of them filter into the room, she told herself she had nothing to worry about.

  Josh had promised to take care of Anne, and maybe having Rick around meant he'd pay extra-special attention to her. She wished the door to the cage room was see-through.

  "Maybe we should prop open the door," Emma said. "To keep the air circulating so it doesn't bother Josh so—"

  Knight yanked her toward the back before she could finish her thought. "Can you stop meddling for ten seconds to actually focus on why we're here?" Knight plopped down in one of the desk chairs with an irate expression.

  "When will you learn that I can accomplish multiple things at once?"

  "Your idea of accomplishment is relative," Knight said.

  Emma took her seat, the wind knocked out of her. Did Knight truly believe that? That she wasn't accomplished? That she was useless, worthless? Her hands shook as she opened the laptop in front of her. Why did she care what Knight thought, anyway? As long as he stuck by her as he always had. She didn't need his approval, just his utter obedience, which he was already providing.

  With rene
wed purpose, Emma followed the instructions on the clipboard and begged her turmoiled gut to calm down. She should have thought better of that double shot in her morning mocha.

  She pulled up the list of available dogs so they could print out the adoption packets. It wasn't long before she and Knight fell into an easy rhythm. She updated each dog's packet, printed out its information, and he inserted it into a folder along with the necessary adoption papers to be brought to the event.

  He started humming the main melody in tune to a pop song on the radio, and she picked up the harmony, riffing off each other like they did during their study sessions. Whenever a drum solo kicked in, he'd beat his hands against the desk and smack her table for the cymbals, and whenever there was a keyboard solo, she'd run her fingers up and down his arm. They were a two-person air band. Knight's roommate, Tran, whose mother worked with real bands, always rolled his eyes and made fun of their act, but that never stopped them.

  They were midway through a piece, nodding their heads along, when a canine howl pierced the air, loud enough to send Frank Churchill rushing into the cage room.

  "Should I check on them, too?" Emma tapped a pen nervously against the table.

  "Would you want to be checked on?"

  Emma's pen stilled at the idea of someone else orchestrating something on her behalf instead of the other way around. Her friends cared about her. Of course they did. But they weren't really orchestrating, scheming types. She couldn't picture it. Her chest constricted as she imagined Knight plotting and planning for days on end to make something special for her. She took in a surprise gasp of air. "I think I would like to be checked on. It would be nice to know someone cared that much about me, that I had such a good friend."

  "Ha!" Knight twirled around in his chair so their knees touched. "You think this is about you being a good friend?"

  "A great friend," Emma said. "Do you know how much I've planned? I had to find the perfect venue, make sure my house was available, that my parents would be out of town, that everyone else would be too busy, that this didn't interfere with any of Josh's auditions."

  Knight's eyes darkened, and he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. "I get it now. What's really going on."

  "I hope so because I told you already: I'm setting up Anne with Josh to help her get over Rick, and we're going to do some good in the process." That her mom would be proud of.

  "This isn't about Anne or her getting over Rick. This is about Josh."

  Emma furrowed her brow. "I've already told you it's about Anne and Josh."

  "No, this is about Josh and you. Don't make that face. I know you care about Anne. I know you would never hurt her. But she's a convenient pawn. You've convinced yourself that you've been playing the long con, that you've been setting up Anne and Josh. Maybe once they're finally together, you can pretend that you never wanted Josh to begin with and that you weren't hurt he rejected you. This is really about you."

  Wetness stung the corner of Emma's eyes, and she quickly blinked it away. She wasn't fast enough. A single tear managed to slip out and run down her cheek, but she swiped at it with the back of her hand.

  Knight's expression shifted, and he set his hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry, Emma—"

  She stood and backed up. "Shows how much you know, Knight. I can't expect you to understand. Your idea of friendship is playing video games and staying up late watching sports together. Well, I have a higher-minded purpose."

  "Emma, I didn't mean to…" Knight frantically tried to hold her as she twisted away. He let his hands fall to his sides like he wasn't sure what to do with them. "I'm sorry."

  She didn't want pity of all things. "If you should be sorry for anything, it's being so shortsighted." Emma marched back to the front desk where Frank had returned and was looking over various animal charts. "Frank, is everything all right?"

  He looked her distractedly then realized she was talking about the animal howl he had gone to check on. "Just a puppy nervous about its first bath."

  "We've almost finished with compiling the adoption packages. I was thinking you could use some help at the front desk. I noticed your clipboard collection is out of control."

  He ran a rueful hand through his hair and nodded. "Organizing is the least of our priorities when we're handling an influx of animals." He was older than her by a few years but really cute, in a distracted way.

  Maybe she would matchmake him with the buxom horse trainer her mother had hired. "I'm more than happy to lend my talents."

  As she set about organizing his papers and basked in his gratitude and compliments about how bright, smart, and capable she was, she felt her soul lighten. That happy feeling she got when she knew she was being useful and was well liked—that's how she ought to feel.

  * * *

  After finishing the informational adoption packets, alphabetizing the donor sponsor records, sending out solicitation packets for new donations, and updating the animal health records, Emma felt accomplished and incredibly curious.

  Frank had long since been dragged into the back room for some animal procedure. Knight, who she was still giving the silent treatment, packed up crates in the vans out front to transport animals to the adoption event tomorrow. Anne, Rick, and Josh, on the other hand, hadn't made an appearance from the cage room.

  She was more than ready to know what they were up to, whether Josh had seen Anne—really seen her—because if he had, there was no way he could even feign disinterest. Her friend was good, gracious, beautiful. Exactly the kind of person Josh needed.

  With Knight outside, Emma knew she could take a peek without his disapproval hanging over her head. She tiptoed her way to the door, slowly pulled it open, and peeked her head inside. She was immediately hit with the stale smell of warm, wet dog.

  Emma held her breath, crinkled her nose, and stepped inside. The small room was lined with cages from floor to ceiling. Some were very large, with three or four dogs inside, happily napping or chewing on dog toys. The rest were smaller stacks of cages piled on top of one another. One had a cat's warm, breathing body pressed up against the bars. Rick was trying to reach his hand into another of the cages, toward a particularly reluctant, hissing occupant.

  "Fall in line, soldier," Rick muttered to the noncooperative furball.

  Toward the back of the room, there was a large caged-in area with three metal tables, a hose, and a sopping-wet floor with a shower drain in the center. Anne was drying off a labradoodle on one of the tables, and it placed it paws on her shoulders and nuzzled her neck. Even Emma, who had not quite brought herself to love another dog after her maltipoo's demise, felt her heart squeeze at the sight. Which meant that Josh—

  Emma scanned the room again. "Where's Josh?"

  "He took off about two hours ago," Rick said. He snatched his hand back and glared at the angry cat.

  "But we've only been here two and a half hours," Emma said.

  "He really couldn't handle it," Rick said. "He started wheezing. I think he might be asthmatic, and his allergies weren't helping."

  Emma was torn between sympathy and annoyance. She didn't expect Josh to die for her cause, but why couldn't he just tell her if he couldn't handle the cats? But he tried to tell you, a little voice said, and she wished she could smother that internal voice of reason.

  "Emma, come meet Caesar." Anne used Caesar's paw to wave hello. "He's a good boy. He is such a good boy." Her hair, which she'd swiped into a ponytail at some point, was wet, bedraggled, and stuck to her cheeks. Her sundress was stained at the hip—Emma had no idea what it was but hoped it was just water—and she probably smelled just awful. But as Emma walked back toward her friend, she had to admit she'd never seen Anne happier.

  Emma crouched down and rubbed the puppy's downy head just behind his ears. "This one is a cutie."

  "They all are. Oh, I wish I could take this one home," Anne said as she breathed in. "Puppy scent is the best."

  Emma kept her disagreement to herself.
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  Rick walked over, too, and scratched Caesar behind the ears. The dog cocked his head and panted. "You always wanted a dog," Rick said, not looking at Anne.

  "Yeah, I never could have one at the Academy," Anne replied wistfully.

  Emma didn't miss the brief, charged look between them, the look that Rick broke off as he walked back to the cat cages. This was precisely why Emma knew Rick wasn't a good match for Anne. Even if her instincts proved right and Rick wasn't entirely over Anne, he wasn't ready to fight for her. Without any fight in him, he had nothing to offer her friend. Anne led Caesar back into his cage.

  Emma cleared her throat. "Rick, could you help Knight out with loading the crates into the van for tomorrow?"

  "Sure thing." He held out his arms; they were covered in crisscrossed cat scratches. "I'm done getting swatted at."

  "I told you," Anne said, "you can't grab at them like that. You need to let them trust you first." She opened up the same cat cage that Knight had walked away from and set her fingertips inside. Once the cat sniffed at her and licked, she reached her hand in the rest of the way and pulled out the cat, who was boneless in her hands. The cat curled against Anne.

  "You always did have a way of making others want to curl up next to you," Rick said.

  Emma cleared her throat again, frowning. "Knight's waiting for you, Rick."

  Rick turned away and left. Emma studied Anne as she finished putting a shiny new nametag collar on the cat and set her back in the cage, licking her paws.

  Emma needed to get Anne focused on Josh again. She leaned against the rail, able to take shallow breaths now that she'd adjusted to the wet-dog smell. "Josh must have been so brave to come back here even with his allergies and asthma. What commitment."

  "I hope he's okay," Anne said as she moved on to the next cat. "He called a town car to drive him back to your place, but he was really having trouble breathing."

  "Poor guy. He did try to hold out for half an hour. While he was here, was he fun?"

  "Oh, you know Josh." Anne shrugged. "He's always trying to make things fun."