Maggie pushed the newspaper toward Cora and pointed to a small photo near the TV listings. Cora leaned in and squinted at the group of smiling people in the picture. She picked out Aaron immediately, tanned and grinning.
“ ‘Meet the cast ofAmerica’s Hottest Landscaper’?” she read the caption aloud. “Are you kidding me? Aaron is going on a reality show?”
It had taken her a year and a half, but Corahadput Aaron Affini behind her. Now he was going to be back to haunt her via the television. She’d finally lost the phantom ring sensation, when her thumb would unconsciously slide to touch the spot on her left hand where the delicate platinum engagement band had once sat.
Maggie studied Cora’s face. “You okay?”
Cora nodded and shrugged at the same time, her mouth a tight line.
Maggie spoke quickly, as if to keep Cora from focusing on the photo for too long. “Look, I know it sucks, but maybe he’ll get kicked out or voted off or eliminated on the first show. He’ll disappear again in a few days. Gone, purged, invisible, just like before.”
“You know that won’t happen, Maggie. Aaronalwayswins. Always.” Cora pulled the newspaper from the table and held it close to her eyes. “He’s the best-looking guy in the group.”
“But it’s not just a beauty competition! It’s also to see who can weed best, or mow fastest, or do whatever landscapers do. We both know he’s lazy as hell. Don’t worry, C, he’s not going to make it far.”
But Cora knew better. She knew that when Aaron had his eyes on a prize, nothing could stop him. And she knew that he was at his best when he had an audience.
Cora threw the paper on the table. “Whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Maggie eyed her skeptically.
“What? Who even watches the Garden Channel anyway?” Cora paused. “I’m happy for him.” She raised her arms and gazed heavenward. “Universe? I’m totally fine with this.”
“Look at you, all evolved and grown up!Namaste,y’all.” Maggie placed her hands together and bowed at Cora. “Now, do you want a large mimosa, or an extra-large mimosa?”
She hoped that Maggie couldn’t see through her tough-girl act. Cora’s coping technique after the breakup was scrubbing every trace of Aaron from her life, both electronically and in real life, and then pushing any thought of him from her mind each time he dared to creep into her consciousness. The rejection was too painful to dwell on, so she’d erased him. Completely.
“I need to get out of here.” Cora called to her dog. “Hey, Fritz, wanna hike?”
Fritz danced in front of her, then took a few steps toward the door. The wordhikemeant one thing: Rock Creek Park.
Their long walks in Rock Creek Park were the highlight of the week for both of them. The ritual gave Cora an opportunity to connect with her own dog after spending the majority of the week working with other people’s, and it gave Fritz a chance to lay claim to the landscape by lifting his leg on everything vertical. On this day, with the warm spring air bringing everything back to life, a hike would be a hit of dopamine that could banish thoughts of Aaron for at least a few hours.
Maggie scrunched up her face. “Want me to come?” Since this was the first time in all the years they’d lived together Maggie’d asked to come, Cora wasn’t about to make her best friend go hiking.
“Nope, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, okay?”
There was a catch in her throat. She didn’t have lingering feelings for Aaron, at least none that she acknowledged, so she couldn’t understand why she was so unnerved by the news he might get famous. Perhaps because she could no longer control the Aaron narrative, she feared he might loom larger than life in her head once again, despite her best efforts to purge him forever. Maybe she was just being petty and didn’t wish professional success for the man who’d jilted her.
Fritz gave a muffled “harrumph” in his polite indoor voice to speed Cora along, so she took the hint and grabbed his leash.
THREE
Aday and two head-clearing walks later, Cora pulled up in front of her client Fran Channing’s house ten minutes early. She dug out her phone and scanned her e-mail, stalling so that she’d arrive on her client’s doorstep exactly on time. She scrolled past the junk mail and new client inquiries until a message from her client Wade Cohen looked interesting enough to open. “Thought of You, Cora,” the subject line read.
“Hey Miss Dog Lady,” it said. “Saw this job posting and thought of you immediately. You need to try out—let’s talk.” Wade and his wife, Rachel, were always brainstorming ways for Cora to grow her business, in between training sessions with their adolescent golden retriever, Daisy, and unruly twin girls, offering advice for everything from her social media presence to her flyers. Wade’s profession was filming corporate training videos, so she couldn’t imagine what sort of job would make him think of her. She scrolled down to the forwarded message.
We’re looking for a one-of-a-kind dog trainer! Are you outgoing? Do your customers and their dogs love you? Bolex Media is casting an exciting new show that will help viewers train their dogs in an entirely new way. See the attachment for program overview and submission details.
Cora stared out the window as her stomach started to churn. A TV show? Wade thought she should audition for aTV show? Cora was ready forsomeoneto unseat the famous Doggie Dictator, but she had never considered, even in her wildest anti-Ershovich rantings, that that someone should be her. She was a worker bee, a boots-on-the-ground tactician whose sole purpose was to smooth the bumps in the canine-human relationship. Could she become a spokesperson? Be the “face” of positive dog training? It felt unlikely. Cora always ducked in the back of group photos, or offered to take the picture instead of being in it. She hated being the center of attention. When she factored in her lack of experience onstage or in front of a camera—she’d even opted to be crew in her third grade production ofCinderellainstead of one of the mice—doing anything other than daydreaming about the opportunity seemed unlikely.
But still. The chance to do TV dog trainingright,to help people train with empathy and compassion, rather than barely camouflaged abuse, was tempting. Maybe she could summon the spirit to at least ask for more information about the show? Asking for more details was hardly a commitment to star in a TV show. Issue resolved, she dropped her phone back in her bag and pushed the thought from her head so she could focus completely on her clients.
Fran Channing and her gorgeous young Bouvier des Flandres, Sydney, were Cora’s favorite new clients. Fran’s Australian accent, giant black-rimmed glasses, and irreverent Louise-Brooks-meets-Helmut-Lang style were charming. Her oversize furry black dog, though, was an odd match for her, as Fran seemed better suited for a portable purse-size dog. Sydney’s black mustache and beard made him look equally unique, but his herding dog work ethic didn’t fit with Fran’s lifestyle. She was overwhelmed by his energy levels, and it was up to Cora to help make the relationship work. A lot of pressure, yes, but she was up to it.
She lifted the heavy iron knocker on Fran’s front door and heard Sydney start barking before it had even touched the base. Sydney had been wild at the beginning of their first session, but Cora knew there was a genius lurking beneath his exuberant attention-seeking behavior.
Fran opened the door immediately, as if she’d been waiting for Cora. She rolled her eyes as she tried to hold her dog back. “Hello, darling, please come in. What aweekwe’ve had. We need you so.”
