‘Yeah, best sponsorship deal we’ve ever done. And a better position on the page than the Remove Me flea powder guys. They just got the sidebar. Cheaper than TV and as tightly targeted an audience as you could wish to find. No wastage.’
‘Wastage?’ Were they even speaking English?
‘When you advertise on TV, there will be a lot of people watching who aren’t pet owners. If you advertise around a TV programme, likeMaking Pets Well With Marina, then the ratio of pet owners to non pet owners goes up dramatically. On this site, that ratio is even better. So, less waste.’
‘So how much would this sponsorship cost?’
‘You don’t work for Remove Me?’
‘No, I’m the consultant vet for Marina.’Unpaidconsultant, who fed her the lines. He twisted his lips. ‘I don’t get involved in the business side of things, just the business end.’
The two men laughed politely.
‘Pretty messy business, isn’t it?’ The taller man shuddered. ‘Although the camera guys are doing a great job of missing the really ugly bits out. That’s what we’re paying for.’
‘You must be paying a lot to keep it clean,’ said Devon, hiding his disgust. Just how much was this media circus making?
Tall goatee wearer looked around before whispering in Devon’s ear.
Devon almost bit his tongue. That was no small chunk of change.
Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Larry busy licking at the latest arrival. It made the £4,000 Marina could make by selling the puppies look rather insignificant. And here he’d been sweating his balls off to try and raise the cash to buy himself out.
Yup, Ella had definitely been right. He’d been too busy protecting his pride to see her help for what it was. A genuine offer. Marina had always had an ulterior motive, another agenda.
He owed Ella an apology. More than an apology. God, he hoped after being such an idiot, she would still talk to him. Forgive him. He’d really messed up there.
‘Marina, we need to talk.’
‘What, now?’ Marina looked over towards the camera.
‘There won’t be another puppy for a while and this won’t take long.’
‘There won’t?’ She looked back at the dog.
Devon had no bloody idea – pups came when they were ready – but he wasn’t about to tell Marina that. ‘No,’ he said.
He drew her out of the studio, up the stairs, through the hallway and into the kitchen. For a second, a brief pang hit him. He’d eaten a lot of solitary meals in this kitchen. Sitting at the walnut breakfast bar, staring at his own reflection in the glossy black units that filled the opposite wall. Wiping away fingerprints from the built-in doors of the fridge where they leftmarks. It had always been a hopelessly impractical kitchen, even for their domestically challenged lifestyle.
‘What’s this about, Devon?’ she asked with a kittenish purr. ‘Have you made your decision?’
‘Yes.’
‘Devon!’ She clapped her hands and leant towards him. ‘That’s fabulous news. You’re coming back?’
He weighed up his words, studying her. Sophisticated and polished, with her perfect curves, tiny waist, long legs in high heels and sultry come-to-bed eyes and all he could think of was a slight, slender blonde who had a big enough heart to try and rescue him.
‘No, but I have found a solution to our financial problems.’
Marina’s lip quivered rather beautifully.
‘Not coming back?’
‘No.’
‘B-but.’ She sniffed rather elegantly and then stiffened like a cat facing off in a fight. ‘If that’s what you’ve decided. You’re making a big mistake. And where are you going to find the money? We can’t keep dragging it out.’
‘We don’t need to. It’s quite simple.’
