“Insulting clients isn’t the place to start here,” Rohan said, frowning.
“Calling someone a stuffy suit isn’t an insult. I call you that all the time.” She looked at Dad, pleading. “Let me try this, Dad. If it goes well, then I can take on more of your ‘conservative’ clients and you can stay part-time.”
Dad sighed weakly. “Fine. Okay, beti. Maybe I don’t have a choice. I will go part-time for one month. I’ll call Anil.”
“No need. I have a meeting with him this afternoon anyway.” Rohan turned to Kamila. “Kam, if you’re serious about this, you can join me.”
“Perfect.” She’d have liked to have gone to J.Crew first to get new “professional” clothes before meeting the man, but she was pretty sure she still had that pencil skirt from a few years ago when she was a sexy dead flight attendant for Halloween. Wait…the Dogapalooza meeting. “Oh, I just remembered—I have a meeting at the shelter at noon. Tim’s taking us to see a new venue for the puppy prom. Apparently, it’s a former church.”
Rohan, who was scooping shakshuka and egg with his bread, shook his head disparagingly. “If you’re going to take this client and volunteer for the incubator, it will be a major time commitment.”
“Yeah, so everyone said. You clearly think a formal ball for dogs isn’t a good use of my time. I hear you. You think I’m ridiculous.”
“I don’t think you’re ridiculous, Kam. I just want to make sure you know what you’re signing up for. It’s serious.”
Kamila pushed her hair behind her ears. She would have ceremoniously taken her earrings off if she were wearing any. “When have I ever half done anything? Have you seen my parties? My work at the shelter is important. My work at Emerald is important. I’m fully committed to both. I can handle this client, and I wouldn’t have offered to volunteer if I didn’t think I could do it. I know what serious means.”
“I never said you couldn’t be serious. All I meant was—”
“Enough, kids,” Dad said, his voice shaky. “Kamila is so generous. Both of you. Such big hearts. All this because of me…I’m nothing but trouble for all of you.”
Great. Now Dad was upset. She shook her head. “Dad, it’s okay. Rohan’s just teasing me. We don’t mean it. That’s just how our friendship is. Give me Anil’s number, and I’ll call him myself to set up a time to meet.” She’d hopefully covered up her annoyance—okay, probably more like anger—at Rohan there. She didn’t want Dad worrying even more. But yeah, her blood was boiling. Kamila pushed her chair out. “And actually, I remembered I need to check some things with Asha at the shelter before the meeting. I should get dressed.” She needed her best friend. Asha would be on her side.
As Kamila climbed the stairs, she wondered what she had gotten herself into. She talked a good game, but could she actually be the respectable, corporate-type accountant that Dad’s clients expected? She had to try. Because nothing was more important than Dad—and if this was the way to get him to reduce his hours, she’d happily buy a blazer and sensible shoes.
She could do this. She had no choice.
Chapter 7
She called Asha as soon as she was in her room.
“Sorry, Kamila, I’ll see you at the meeting with Tim later, but I can’t hang out right now. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Asha said.
“What are your hands full with?”
“Puppies.”
“What? What puppies?”
“A litter was left in a cardboard box outside this morning. Literally puppies in a box like this is a sitcom or something. Believe it or not, their medical records were left in the box, too. One of them peed on them. Or maybe all of them did. There was a lot of pee. Like, holy shit, alotof pee. Obviously, these dogs weren’t dehydrated.”
This was unconscionable. “There are new puppies at the shelter and you didn’t call me right away?”
“There are no other managers here. I needed to get them examined and processed.”
“How are they?”
“Four are in perfect health. I’ll give the fifth to the vet to examine if you get off the phone. He’s the runt but—”
“I’m on my way.”
A supportive friend was what Kamila’dthoughtshe needed after that breakfast. But instead, the universe gave her what sheactuallyneeded. Puppies. She changed in record time.
Twenty minutes later, Kamila was on the floor of the largest enclosure in the animal shelter in a calf-length magenta corduroy skirt and a black fitted mohair sweater, sitting on old bedsheets with three tiny black puppies wriggling on her lap.
“I suspect someone was giving backyard breeding a try,” Asha said, “then realized how much work it is. The medical records say they’re Lab mixes. It’s nice to see healthy puppies surrendered for a change. They’re about four weeks old now. We’ll probably wait until they’re eight weeks before we adopt them out. Give or take.”
Kamila laughed as one of them stood on the head of another to lick her face. A fourth puppy was chewing on the toe of Kamila’s boot (which was fine—she’d specifically bought these Hunter rubber boots to wear at the shelter). Asha was holding the fifth puppy, the only beige one in the otherwise all-black litter.
