The Best Man Plan, стр. 16

“She called me in tears and said her wedding was ruined.”

Not the first time Erin had heard that about a bride-to-be. The week of the wedding was always the most stressful time, and a time when if something was going to go wrong, it generally would. Erin had firsthand knowledge of that now. She only wished her own wedding disaster had been of the cake variety.

“And you told her you’d call Rietta, right?” Rietta May was their savior, a wonderful friend of the family who had been making cakes for over forty years.

Honor nodded. “We’re meeting with her this afternoon. The only problem is that Heather had this elaborate cake design in mind and I’m not sure Rietta can pull it off with such short notice.”

“Hey, she’ll get a wedding cake that didn’t come from the grocery store. She should consider herself fortunate.”

“Let’s hope she sees it that way.”

Erin sighed. “I don’t envy you your job, Honor. Dealing with brides is like defusing bombs.”

Honor laughed. “It’s not that bad. Most of my brides are lovely.”

“Uh-huh. If you say so.”

“You’re just not a people person.”

“If by that you mean that I’d tell prospective brides, their pushy mothers and whatever family members who want the world at a discount to kiss my ass, then yes, I’m not a people person.”

“Which is why I handle the weddings.”

“And I do the budgets. Happily. Alone in my beautiful office.”

Honor lifted her lips in a teasing smile. “You mean your ivory tower.”

“Hey. I don’t live in an ivory tower. I get out. In fact, I have an appointment for a massage in an hour.”

“Good for you. After all the stress you’ve had, you deserve it.”

“Damn right I do.”

Honor stood. “Okay, thanks for letting me vent. I need to get some things done before I meet Heather at Rietta’s bakery.”

“You have fun with that.”

Honor smiled on her way out. “And you enjoy your massage.”

“I intend to.”

Erin went back to work, losing herself in her spreadsheets. When she looked up, she realized she’d totally lost track of time and she only had twenty minutes to make it into the city.

She could do this. She exited the program she was working on, grabbed her purse and her keys and tucked her phone in her bag. She sent a quick text message to her mom to let her know she’d be gone for a couple of hours, then dashed outside to get in her car.

She left the property and headed down the road that would lead to the highway.

Honor was right. She needed this massage. She’d gotten the gift certificate as a wedding shower gift, and since it wasn’t returnable, decided she might as well use it. After all, Owen was probably sunning himself on the beaches of Aruba, so she might as well have some enjoyment out of what would have been her honeymoon week.

That bastard.

She could feel the tension in her shoulders. Oh, yeah, she definitely needed someone to work the rage out of her back muscles.

Something dark skirted in front of her car and she slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt.

What the hell was that? It was too small to be a deer, but too big to be a squirrel. Also, it stopped on the side of the road.

Oh, crap, she hadn’t felt a thud under her tires, but still, she hoped she hadn’t hit it, whatever it was. No, she would have felt it if she’d hit it, but it wasn’t moving.

Dammit. She put the car in Park and got out, wanting to make sure that whatever it was wasn’t injured.

She approached slowly so as not to spook it.

“Hey, little thing. Are you okay?” she asked, using her softest voice.

As she got closer, she could see it was a dog. Not a dog. A puppy. A furry brown and dirty, matted little puppy. She crouched down to see it was trembling. And it was easy to see there was something wrong with its leg.

“Oh, you poor baby. Are you okay?”

The little thing wasn’t even trying to get away from her, but looked up at her with sad, soulful brown eyes that made her tear up.

“You’re hurt, baby. Let me help you.”

She scooped the puppy—she looked and it was a her—up and cradled her close. “Don’t you worry, little girl. Erin is going to take care of you.”

So much for her massage appointment. But this little pup needed help, and that took priority. She got back in the car, grabbed a blanket from the back seat and laid the pup on the blanket on her lap. She settled right in, no longer shaking.

Okay. She had to take the pup to Jason.

He’d know what to do.

•   •   •   •   •   •

“I KNOW BUSTER loves sausages, Mrs. Klein. But the fact is, your dachshund is fat.”

His client, a very lovely woman in her seventies, offered him a concerned look. “He eats meals with me. Since Al died, he’s been my only companion. With the children spread out in different states, I just wanted to feel like I had someone to share my life, you know?”

“I understand. And you can still do that. We’ll write out a plan for how much of his dog food you can split into three meals a day. But only give him dog food. Table scraps are bad for his pancreas, some foods are toxic to animals, and overfeeding him will ultimately shorten his life.”

Mrs. Klein winced. “I thought I was giving him love, and instead I’m hurting him.”

He saw the tears well in her eyes and wished he hadn’t been the one to put them there, but here at his clinic he had to be Dr. Jason Callum, veterinarian, and that meant his primary concern was for the animals in his care.

“Do you take walks?”

She nodded. “Around the neighborhood. It’s so lovely this time of year. My friends and I like to see all the flowers.”

“Take Buster with you. He can use the exercise and it’ll help get his weight off faster.”

Her face brightened as