Oreo yips once, as if to confirm it’s the latter.
“Oh, she’s definitely walking you,” the woman says with a knowing look. “I’ve got two just like her at home.”
“Two?” I shudder. I can barely handle Oreo. Two tiny dictators would completely overwhelm me. “You’re a saint.”
She grins. “Nah, just a fellow dog lover. Have a good afternoon,” she says, turning left into Sales.
It isn’t until she’s gone that I realize what a strange encounter it was. I didn’t even know that woman’s name, and we had an entire conversation. About something other than Triada. I’m not sure what to make of it.
Oreo and I continue our loop around the floor and when we reach the kitchen, she drags me in, pulling hard at her leash. There are a couple of guys from marketing hanging around the coffee machines when we enter. They take one look at me and the conversation dies.
Judging by the looks on their faces, they’re going to bolt. No surprise there. It happens all the time. Only I never cared before.
Scarlett’s words echo in my head.Then don’t be such a stone-cold bastard.
It sounded so reasonable when she said it.
Oreo gives a demanding yip, drawing the attention of the group. Then she plops down on her haunches and stares up at them expectantly, tongue lolling to the side.
“Hey, cutie.” One of the guys squats down to pet her, and I rack my brain for his name. Tim? Tom? Trent. From marketing. “Do you need a drink?”
Fuck. Of course she does. We just took a long-ass walk around the campus. I keep a dish of water in my office, for all the good it’s doing me now.
“We just finished our morning walk,” I say, because apparently I’m now one of those people who feel the need to explain. “I guess she worked up a bit of a thirst. I’ll get her some water.” After all, Oreo is my responsibility. “Would you mind holding her leash for a minute?”
He takes it without complaint and she drops to the floor, rolling onto her back.
“What’s her name?” he asks, rubbing her belly.
“Oreo.” I wait for their laughter, but it never comes, so I busy myself at the sink, filling a disposable bowl with water.
“Perfect name with her coloring,” another guy says.
“You know what you need?” another offers. “A portable pet water bottle. Those things are a lifesaver when it’s boiling outside.”
“I didn’t even know that was a thing.” I place Oreo’s bowl on the floor and turn to the speaker. I don’t know his name, but I’m pretty sure he works in marketing, too. Miles would probably know. “Can I just order one online or do I need to go to a special pet store?”
For all I know, there’s one in the supply box Scarlett gave me, but I don’t remember seeing anything that looked like a water bottle.
He pulls out his phone and starts tapping the screen. “You can get them anywhere, but there are a million different styles, and my girlfriend has tried them all. Nothing but the best for our fur babies.” He laughs and everyone else joins in, so I do, too. “I can email a link for the one Jane uses now. She swears it’s the best one on the market.”
“That’d be great,” I say, rising and reclaiming Oreo’s leash. “I’d really appreciate it.”
We chat for a few more minutes about dog ownership and the guys give me more tips for training Oreo before I pitch her bowl into the trash and head back up to level three for my eleven o’clock conference call.
As we’re leaving, I overhear someone whisper, “Looks like the Tin Man finally found his heart.”
The Tin Man? There’s one I haven’t heard before. I should probably be offended, but I can’t find it in me to muster any anger. Not with pride filling my chest.
A slow grin spreads over my face as realization dawns.
Scarlett was right. Oreo is my new secret weapon. Not only is she good for morale, she’s good for initiating small talk. With her at my side, people aren’t afraid to say hello. I haven’t seen a single person change direction or duck into a bathroom to avoid me.
Not one.
That could have something to do with the fact that you’re not scowling.
I’m sure the smile helps, but I’m not afraid to give credit where it’s due, and Scarlett hit one out of the park adopting Oreo. Besides, it’s kind of nice having company around the condo. Even if she chews on my shoes.
