As hot as it was, she’d rather find a nice, cool bench in the shade to eat her Twinkie and drink her Diet Coke without Theo’s judgy eyes on her nutritional choices.
She headed down Main Street and stopped to chat with Mrs. Nally at the bookstore about the romance book display in the windows and complimented her lovely purple sun visor. Amber pointed to her own short purple sundress. "Twins!"
Farther down Main Street, Sheriff Rush Callahan was writing a ticket for a car parked in a handicap spot when she walked by the diner. She made sure to give him an extra dazzling smile and was met with a curt nod. That was a specimen of a man. The uniform, the badge, the muscles. It allworked for Sheriff Callahan. He had the whole broody, mysterious vibe going for him.
She found a nice spot under a maple tree to eat and took her lunch out of her bag when a pitiful mewing sound stopped her in her tracks. "Puddin’?” she said cautiously. “Come here, girl.”
A small face with deceptively pitiful eyes poked her head around the planter in front of the Northfield National Bank. "Puddin’, it is you. Come here, baby. What are you doing out here?"
Puddin’ had seen better days. When she lived with Mrs. Bovenzi, Puddin’ had been a plump little thing, all dolled up with bows and a rhinestone collar. The old girl looked like she’d fallen on some hard times now.
Amber picked up the dog. She was skinny now and a little smelly too, but Puddin’ was an actress, if nothing else. She laid her head on Amber's shoulder and looked up at her with big, sad eyes.
"Where's your owner, Puddin’?” she soothed, patting the dog’s back gingerly. She knew full well where Mrs. Bovenzi’s son was, probably home drinking like usual. She had tangled with the distasteful man once already, but how could she let Puddin’ go back to him?
Puddin’ made a pitiful noise, between a mewl and a howl, and it was a done deal. She was such a sucker for an underdog. "All right, fine. You can come with me, but you have to be on your best behavior. I mean it. I’m already on thin ice at work. Theo will fire me for sure if he finds you.”
She carefully set Puddin’ in her oversized bag and made her way awkwardly back to the office. Thankfully, Diane wasn’t at her desk, and Amber all but ran to her office and closed the door.
She set Puddin’ on the floor. "You can't make any noise. Just lie down and sleep.” Puddin’ looked up at her and slowlyblinked. "I know, I know. I'm gonna take care of you. I'm not gonna send you back to the bad man, but there's another bad man next door.” She paused. “Well, he's not quite as bad, but he signs my paychecks, and I really need to keep it that way.”
Amber dropped to her knees and spread her cashmere sweater—a vintage find she had searched for months for—in the corner behind her desk where no one could easily see her. “Don't you dare pee on this.”
Puddin’ was fully trained, but Mrs. Bovenzi liked to say she was temperamental. She did whatever she wanted, when she wanted, in other words. “I saved up for a month for this sweater. You better tell me if you have to go out.”
“Amber, have you seen?—?”
Amber sat up guilty, hoping he hadn’t gotten an eyeful of her ass in the short dress, and tried to look casual. “Seen what?” Shit. That hadn’t lasted long. She sucked at subterfuge.
“What is that?" he said carefully.
“That's Puddin’.”
“What,” he asked very carefully, “the hell kind of name is Pudding?” A muscle in his jaw began to tick and Amber figured sheer bravado was her best bet. She was 90 percent sure she was getting fired today anyway, but she wasn’t going out without a fight.
“Puddin’,” she corrected. “No, it's not my dog. I can't have dogs where I live, but Puddin’ is your new strategy for winning the election."
“Tell me you did not get me a dog?” he asked coldly.
"Everyone knows a dog increases your likability by a million.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed. “You just made that up.”
“Maybe not a million, but it’s a lot.” She scrambled to her feet and found her phone. “See? Beckerman’s already caught on.” She held out the phone to the picture of Beckerman and hisdog. “Puddin’ is going to be your campaign buddy. Who doesn't love this face? She loves people.”
Right on cue, Puddin’s doggy lips trembled in a smile, and she let out a little pouty yip. The dog belonged in Hollywood. Amber picked her up and stepped closer to Theo. In her heels, she was almost level with his collar.
"You've got to be kidding me,” Theo said. He sniffed. “What’s that smell?”
“She’s been mistreated. I used to walk her for Mrs. Bovenzi, but when she died, her son took her. He’s drunk and he forgets to feed her. She’s in bad shape.”
“Then you take her home.” Theo crossed his arms, and Puddin’ took the opportunity to lean over and rest her head on his chest.
"No, can't do that," she said. “No pets allowed.”
“Then take it to the pound."
"Can't do that either. Did you know I worked there one summer?"
