Yeah, she needed help, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
Ashanti spent the rest of the afternoon and evening exercising the smaller dogs, taking care of the afternoon feedings, and manning the reception area whenever Deja needed a break—the number of calls they were now getting wasseriously ridiculous. Ashanti hadn’t worked this much since those early days of the daycare, when it was only the three of them. Back then, Kara and Kendra used to spend their afternoons helping out with the dogs. She missed those days.
Except for the work. She didn’t miss that level of mind-numbing exhaustion at all.
There were only three dogs that required after-care hours, and surprisingly, no overnight boarders, but Leslie had remained. She found Ashanti cleaning the suite where they kept Mrs. LeBlanc’s geriatric toy poodle, Muffin Top. Muffin Top was eighteen years old and peed in her suite more than she did outside.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Leslie asked.
“I got it,” Ashanti said. She looked up. “Has Puddin’ been picked up yet?”
“Not yet. I tried calling Thad Sims again, but the phone went to voicemail.”
Ashanti glanced at her watch. It was ten minutes past eight.
Her first instinct was to curse him out for taking advantage of their agreement, but she had been sole guardian of her sisters for too long not to feel a pinch of worry that maybe something had happened to him.
“Go on,” she told Leslie. “I’ll continue trying to contact him.”
Ashanti leaned the mop handle against the wall and scrolled through her recent calls. She spotted Thad’s number easy enough, it was the only number that didn’t have a 504 area code in her most recent calls.
She called the number, but it went to voicemail. She got a jolt when she heard his deep voice on the voicemail greetinginstead of a modulated robotic one. She hadn’t pegged him as the type to record his own greeting.
“This is Ashanti Wright at Barkingham Palace. It is—” She checked her watch again. “Eight thirteen. After-care hours ended at eight p.m., so I’m assuming you want Puddin’ to be boarded for the night. And because you did not pre-book the overnight stay, the ninety-dollar emergency overnight boarding fee will be charged to your account. Have a good evening,” she ended.
A minute later her phone buzzed with a text.
Very sorry. Be there in 10.
He made it in five.
Ashanti stood in the daycare entrance with her arms crossed over her chest. It was heryou’re in troublepose. She hoped it worked on him better than it did on the twins.
“I’m sorry,” Thad said, holding his hands up as he climbed the steps. “I swear, I didn’t do this on purpose. I left my phone in my glove box and lost track of time.”
She was probably foolish to believe him. Then again, why would he lie? His white T-shirt and the well-worn jeans that fit his body to perfection were both caked with dust and grime, indicating a long and brutal workday.
“I promise, it’s the truth,” he said. “Please, don’t charge me ninety dollars.”
Ashanti stepped out of the way so that he could enter.
“Where’s the dog?” he asked.
“Who?” She cupped her palm behind her ear.
“Puddin’,” he amended. “Where’s Puddin’?”
“He’s in the back with Duchess. I’ll get them.” He startedto follow, but she stopped him. “I’m not saying you’re a serial rapist ax murderer, but I don’t know that you’renota serial rapist ax murderer. So I’m gonna need you to stay in the lobby.”
“That’s fair,” he said. He held his hands out and waved them around. “But I don’t have an ax, so that takes care of that one. And I can only tell you that I’m not a rapist of any kind, but it’s up to you to believe me. I was raised, in part, by Frances Sutherland, if that holds any weight.”
Ashanti tried her best to hold her composure as she looked him up and down. If she laughed it would only encourage him.
“It does,” she finally said and motioned for him to follow her.
“Yes.” He did a celebratory fist pump. “Grams for the win.”
She lost the battle, laughing as they made their way to the back.
