“No.” I’m usually much more controlled.
Gemma lifts her pen. “Have any of your dogs been killed in the line of duty?”
“No.” Thankfully. WatchingOld Yelleras a kid was painful enough.
“Do you ever answer with anything other than ano?” Kai, of course.
“No.”
The class’s laughter sounds a little nervous at this point. We all just want to go outside where Harris can make them laugh for real.
I march toward the door. “If that’s everything, let’s head out to watch the demonstrations.” I lead the class out the back door of the offices and across the rear parking lot to a dog run next to the kennel. It’s full of different sized wooden boxes with numbered doors in which the dog trainers will try to hide. I motion for the class to face the fence line. “Anyone want to guess which box Harris is hiding in?”
“Not one of the front ones,” Gemma guesses from halfway down the fence. “That would be too easy.”
She’s made a good guess, and I’m about to commend her, but then right in front of me, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and points it through the fence like a camera.
Right. She wasn’t here for my speech on not recording the demonstration. “Gemma?”
She turns her face my way, expectant grin telling me she thinks she’s moving to the head of the class.
“No filming.”
The shine in her sapphire eyes turns matte. “Oh.” She ducks her chin and fumbles to shove the device inside a purse hanging against her hip. “Sorry.”
“Be on time next week so you know the rules,” I scold while sending her roommates a warning look. They are partly to blame for not keeping an eye on her.
“Okay,” she squeaks.
Kai shoves his hands in his pockets, also penitent.
Charlie … not so much. “My guess is box number six. What do I get if I’m right?”
I truly hope Drew is not hiding in box number six. Charlie is too competitive for his own good.
“I’ll take you out for a drink,” Myrna offers.
Charlie glances at her, then does a double take as if noticing her for the first time. Poor girl. “Oh, I can’t date you. I’m taken. Or I will be when I win back my former fiancée.”
And I thought I’d shared too much info earlier. I press my lips together to keep from commenting on that one.
Gemma’s eyes flash bright again, and she flicks her gaze my way as if to share the joke. She seems to have no clue her interest in me is as ill-fated as her roommate’s relationship plans.
A trainer leads Blaze from the kennel on a leash. He looks regal, with pointy ears and thick fawn coat decorated by black markings on his back and muzzle. His muscles coil, ready for action.
I cross my arms. “Well. I’m not encouraging betting, but if you were going to make a legal wager of sorts, now is the time to lock it in.”
“Box six for bragging rights,” Charlie calls.
Nobody argues.
Blaze is unleashed, though he stands still, a soldier awaiting orders. Then the trainer’s secret command ignites his engine like a starter pistol. The dog charges directly toward box number six. Dang.
Harris opens the tiny door and comes out in a padded bite suit. If he didn’t look like the Hulk before, he does now. He runs his dog through a few more drills before giving him a reward and ushering him to his kennel.
“All right, crew. We’re going to bring out Snoops now.”
“Snoops.” Larry laughs. Perhaps he’s a Charlie Brown fan or perhaps he knows another biker named Snoops. I don’t find either too funny myself.
