“It’s in the past, water under the bridge.”
“I know you didn’t want to be here, but I do appreciate that you stepped up. It means a lot.” She cleared her throat. “Saturday morning, I looked into what you told me on the financials. I didn’t realize.”
He tried to shrug off the gratitude. The truth was, he didn’t mind the position itself, only the way he’d been stronghanded into it and the resentment cast his way. “Hope House is set now. You won’t have to worry about money for a while.”
“There’s one thing I don’t understand.” She held out her hands, palms up. “Why Hope House? Please don’t take this as a dig toward your father because I truly don’t mean it that way, but he’s always had little regard for the women to whom Hope House caters. Why would he choose us to bless with that much money? Or any money at all.”
“That, my dear, is the million-dollar question.” He shrugged and offered a twisted smile. “If I had that answer, I’d be a lot less confused.”
“For whatever reason, I am grateful. I might not have a job had he not pledged that money.” A tremor passed through her. “I can’t imagine Hope House closing. It’s turned around the lives of hundreds of women.”
“And it will continue to do so for years to come.”
She looked in the direction of his SUV. “I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you. Take care.”
“Same to you. Be careful walking back in. Even with the well-lit parking lot, you never know what’s hanging around, especially with that shopping center across the street now.”
“I will.”
They said goodbye again, and this time he did walk to his vehicle. He slid into the driver’s seat, but he didn’t leave until he saw her walk safely back into the building. Finally, he left for his house, ready to relax after a long day.
He made it home, hit the garage door opener on his visor, and pulled in. For once, he left his briefcase in the SUV, having no intentions of working more tonight. He walked in, taken off guard by the quiet.
“Truffles, where are you, girl? I’m home.” He walked through the kitchen, then the living room while calling for her.
When he couldn’t find her in the house, he went outside. He’d installed a doggy door for her so she wouldn’t be trapped inside the days he worked late. “Truffles, are you okay?”
He climbed down the steps of his deck, still unable to spot her. His heart sunk when he saw the gate wide open. He left the back yard and walked around the neighborhood, using the flashlight on his phone to show the way.
His neighbors were scarce, but he knocked on the door of the few he had. No one had seen Truffles. He tried not to worry. Truffles had a tag with his contact information, and she was also microchipped. One way or another, she’d be found soon. She had to be.
He returned to his house. After pouring a glass of water, he did a quick search of his social media accounts to see if anyone had posted a dog they’d found. Not seeing any, he made a post of his own with the most current pictures of Truffles.
So much for relaxing. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he found her. Grabbing his keys off the counter, he went back to his car. If he had to drive all night, he’d find his dog.
