Howl to Get Away with Murder (Dog Groomer Mysteries Book 5) by Chelsea Thomas

Author:Chelsea Thomas [Thomas, Chelsea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-10T16:00:00+00:00

24

Three’s Company

The next morning I woke up feeling anxious, so I went over to the shop early to distract myself with work. When I began my walk to Creature Comforts, I was waylaid by thoughts of Jacob, Mike, and my romantic dilemma. Yes, I’d had problems with men before, they were all well-documented, but I’d never found myself on the… deciding end of the problem. It was unclear to me what the appropriate behavior was, or whether or not I had done something wrong by kissing Jacob.

At this point, I believe I’ve already mentioned that I’m not perfect. One of my big flaws is an over-reliance on impulsivity to feel alive. That’s probably how I ended up choosing the wrong guys in the past and then living out in the wilderness with them. It’s almost like I got my dad’s adventurous spirit and my Granny’s love for risk, yet I never managed to temper those traits with the analytical skills needed to keep my life balanced.

After a few minutes of walking, I decided I was being hard on myself. Everyone has flaws, and we all have ways we want to grow or change into better people. You’re a wonderful young woman, I told myself. Then I spotted a row of lilacs along one of Toluca Lake’s many landscaped gardens. The lilacs stretched peacefully among perfectly sculpted shrubs. The flowers, their grace and simplicity, were small reminders that everything was OK if I thought everything was OK.

When I got to the shop, there were so many things on my to-do list that I couldn’t keep them all straight. Organize a filing cabinet. Restock the luxury doggie treats. Research and order food for dogs with sensitive teeth. And prepare the salon for that day’s clients… and that was just the start of the list. In all honesty, organizing the filing cabinet was the least important task. That’s probably why I decided to tackle it first. My brain could be a fiend for procrastination, and meaningless bursts of productivity were my drug.

Stage one of the filing cabinet journey was to pull out all of the unorganized papers and documents, toss them into a big pile, and then look at them and wonder what I’d gotten myself into. I had just begun the “looking and wondering” portion of the task when Granny and Betsy sashayed into the shop holding a tray of coffees from Eleanor’s Bakeshop. Granny cackled when she poked her head into the back room and saw my pile of paperwork. “Hey now. Mount Vesuvius exploded receipts and purchase orders instead of lava. I pity the fool who undergoes this task without caffeine coursing through her nimble veins.”

Betsy entered beside Granny. “Veins can’t be nimble, Petunia. As a writer, I feel it’s my duty to point that out.”

“And as a civilized person, I feel it’s my duty not to dump this hot coffee over your little top-knot, but keep talking, and that might change,” said Granny.

Betsy plucked one of the coffees from the cardboard tray and handed it to me.

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