As she pulled up the client software on the computer, her eye caught an email notification as it popped up on her phone. She noticed the sender shared the last name with a localgrocery store chain and couldn’t fight off her curiosity long enough to get through checking in the dog.
She used one hand to pull up her email on her phone while using the other to scroll through the client list on the desktop, and wondered for the millionth time why humans had yet to perfect cloning.
“Here we are,” Ashanti said. “Oh, Sano is booked for the Sandringham Suite. Great choice. That will give him a lot of extra room to roam around.”
She opened the email from the local grocer and scrolled. Her pulse quickened. They wanted to carry Duchess Delights. A grocery store?
“That suite called to him,” the woman said. “It was very busy the day we came in for the observation, so we were only in for about an hour. But that was long enough for Sano to get a feel for the place.”
“We’ve been extremely busy,” Ashanti said.
“I’m not sure I mentioned it when we came for his observation day, but Sano doesn’t tolerate other dogs well. I’ve already prepaid for one-on-one playtime for him, separate from the other dogs.”
“I’ll make a note of it,” Ashanti said, pulling a Post-it from the dispenser near the computer mouse.
She skimmed the email, her eyes widening as they ran across the number of treats the grocery store chain was requesting. Her heart started pounding against her rib cage like it wanted to escape. Or dance. Maybe her heartwasdancing. That’s what she felt like doing.
“Um, can you give me just a moment?” Ashanti asked.
“I have a plane to catch,” the woman said.
Damn it. Ashanti set down her phone. Barkingham Palacewas her bread and butter; it had to be her focus. Although, if she’d read that email correctly, there was a whole lot of butter in her future.
If she could fill such a giant order.
She could and she would, because she had spent the past week working on a backup plan.
She finished checking Sano in for his boarding, then brought the dog to one of their largest suites. She poked her head into the small dog playroom to get an update on the Sanchezes’ Pomeranians and check in on Duchess. By the time she returned to the lobby, Deja had made it back from her son’s school.
“Thank God,” Ashanti said. “You’re getting a bonus and a raise as soon as I can afford one.”
“I graciously accept,” Deja said.
“I’ll be in my office,” Ashanti told her.
Once behind her desk, she sifted through the papers cluttering it, looking for the number she’d jotted down earlier this week. She’d come up with the idea to rent out professional kitchen space as a temporary solution to her small kitchen. And it’s a good thing she’d started looking, because there was no way her little oven could handle this, even if she recruited Evie to help with the baking again.
Ashanti called the number and—thank you, God!—discovered the kitchen was still available. The woman offered to meet her there in a half hour to tour the space.
“I’m only a few minutes away,” Ashanti said.
The kitchen was on the river side of St. Claude Avenue, not too far from the Bywater house.
The house in the Lower Garden District wasn’t hers yet, but it would be. It was just a matter of time and red tape. AtRidley’s urging—nagging—she had set up a meeting with her bank to talk financing. And, even though it made her stomach roil, had decided to put her parents’ house up for collateral if it came to that.
But she didn’t have the time to look for kitchen space in the Garden District. According to the email, the grocery store chain wanted to line up the order with a huge pet adoption day event they were hosting in partnership with the local SPCA. She needed to get those ovens going.
Ashanti grabbed her keys and headed back to the lobby.
“Deja, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” She didn’t want to jinx things, but had to share. “Guess who wants to carry Duchess Delights?”
Deja screamed when she told her, giving Ashanti a high five.
“Tell me you hired bakers from the list we gave you,” Deja said.
Ashanti had been reviewing the résumés they’d forwarded to her, but hadn’t contacted anyone yet. The time for her to do that was yesterday.
“Not yet, but I will,” Ashanti said.
