Fair point. He tossed his phone to her. “Look up how to get chocolate out of designer dresses.”
She tilted her head to the side and pretended to be Brek while doing a nearly perfect impression of his sister. “Hey, Velma? Would you be a dear and help me out yet again? I know you’re barely wearing any clothes because I didn’t listen to my sister and pack a wedding planner bag, but would you mind looking something up for me?”
Clothes tucked under his arm, he moved toward her, settling his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you, V, for rolling with this. I owe you. And I’m going to make this whole day up to you.”
“See how much nicer that was? You know what I’m going to do for you? I’m going to figure out how to get chocolate out of satin.” She started scrolling through the Internet on his phone.
He wanted to kiss her—full on the mouth, with tongue, everything, but he also didn’t particularly want to be nutted, so he only squeezed her shoulders. “Thank you.”
Velma started her search. Mrs. Winthrop changed and left her gown with him.
“It says we should take the dress to the dry cleaner.” Velma sauntered into the foyer, still swiping through the pages on his phone.
“There’s no time.” A handful of tissues in hand, he poked at the chocolate.
It smeared, doubling the size.
“See, I think that’s why Google wanted us to take it to a dry cleaner.” She was lucky she looked hot in that getup. “Maybe get the tissues wet?”
He grabbed a vase of flowers, chucked the orchids, and drenched another handful of tissues. Using more force than probably necessary, he scrubbed at the chocolate again. The mess smeared more, this time leaving a wet ring around the edges.
“Fuck.” Wiping only made it worse.
“What if we run it under a faucet?” Velma asked. “Hot water might work better than plant-food-infused water?”
“Good idea.”
They headed for the bathroom.
Buttercup made what could only be described as a gagging noise behind him. He turned. The dog had chewed through the box and attacked the pearl necklace. Beads were strewn on the table and fell to the floor among the little white pills.
No. This day was unraveling faster than he could keep up with.
“Oh my gosh.” Velma rushed to Buttercup and pried open his mouth. “I think there’s one in there.”
Buttercup coughed and gasped. Brek threw the dress on the table and grabbed the little dude, holding him against his chest. The dog coughed again.
Brek’s whole body went numb and the energy in the room pulsed. He’d never had official CPR training, but he knew the basics of what he was supposed to do on a human. A canine couldn’t be that different. He put his fingers under Buttercup’s ribs, doing his best attempt at the Heimlich maneuver on a teacup poodle.
Buttercup gagged some more.
“Maybe stick your fingers in there and see if you can grab it?” Velma sounded as panicked as he felt.
“That’s not what you do when someone’s choking.” He continued with little thrusts on Buttercup’s chest.
“He needs oxygen.” Velma’s voice was getting higher and higher.
Normally, Brek wouldn’t consider giving mouth-to-mouth to a canine, but today his boundaries had gone to shit. One more try. “C’mon, little dude.”
Another thrust and the dog did a gag-cough combo. He vomited kibble and three heirloom pearls all over Mrs. Winthrop’s dress.
“What in the actual hell?” Eli asked from the doorway. A plastic grocery sack that readThank Youon repeat across the front hung from his hand.
Funny how as life was fucking you, you noticed the little details.
Buttercup licked Brek’s chin in apparent thanks for saving his life.
“Now that’s gonna need dry cleaning,” Velma said on a gasp from behind her fingertips.
