New neighbors Andi and Hayden don't get off to the best start - and neither do their dogs. When the hostility between their pets, Bart and Rosie, leads to noisy barking, Andi and Hayden must solve their pet's tension or risk eviction from their apar...
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"How'd the dogs do, Cynthia?"
Cynthia stands outside her door, slinging a trash bag over one shoulder. "It's Mrs. Adams, Hayden. Mrs. Adams." She readjusts the bag. "But better. They did better. One barking spell in the morning, another in the afternoon, a handful of barks here and there. Otherwise, they were quiet enough."
I let out a slow, deep breath.
My shoulders loosen for the first time since work.
"Alright. That's good."
"It's better. Better." Cynthia slips by, her voice shrinking as she travels down the hall. "Not good! Get those barking spells to zero, and we'll reach good!"
"Understood." I glance toward Andi's door. She's supposed to be back soon, so I call to Cynthia. "Is Andi back?"
"No clue!" Cynthia turns a corner, vanishing from sight, but right as she does, a rattle and familiar click shoot through the hall.
The stairwell door opens, spitting out the girl in question.
I stand straighter.
Andi steps into the hall with tight footsteps, her dark, straightened hair dusting her shoulders through every step. From the tight black skirt wrapping her hips to the cropped, ribbed blazer enveloping her white shirt, the alluring outfit mirrors her: sharp, hiddenly sweet, and effortlessly sexy—especially those signature raven boots.
When she sees me, she stutter steps. "Hayden." She tightens her fingers around her tote strap. "Hi."
The halted boots accentuate lengthy legs, and while the dim hallway lightbulbs don't display the clearest picture, a quiet, sandy tint burns over the bare limbs. Additionally affected are the apples of her cheeks, splotched with a subtle, golden blush.
I grin. "You got some sun over the weekend."
She glances at herself. "Maybe a little." Displaying the sun in question, she raises one leg and sets it back down. "You also did, by the way."
She's right. Gold settled onto my cheeks, but I've always tanned easily, so it's nothing unusual.
Still, I like that she noticed. I like it a lot.
Andi glances at our doors. "So, the dogs?"
"Only two barking spells today."
Her lips tick up, flashing me with the faintest outline of her dimples. "Really?"
"According to Cynthia." I pause. "And the fact you and I aren't in Gillman's office."
She nods, compact and diplomatic, as she steps to her door. "That's good. It's not perfect, though." She sticks the key inside, twists, and opens the door. Bart, waiting patiently, stands on the other side, Teddy in mouth and wag to tail.
"And that's why we have more sessions." I lean against the doorframe. "Hi, Bart. How are you?"
Bart notices me and shuffles back, the smile (that he's using to hold Teddy) sinking. But he doesn't growl, and he doesn't scatter.
I keep my eyes on him, pointing at his mouth. "It looks like you're enjoying Teddy. Do you remember when I was over yesterday? I gave you that?"
He blinks at me.
I blink at him.
We don't get anywhere.
Therefore, I shift my stare to Andi, a proposal on my lips. "So, I had an idea."
"Uh-oh." Andi folds her arms. "This should be absolutely terrifying."
I roll my eyes. "When we get home tonight, I need to go back to our studio, and I thought we could bring the dogs. It'll be empty, and I can give Bart a free session."
Bart's ears perk up.
Andi tightens her arms. "You want to photograph Bart?"
I nod.
"I don't—what does that entail?"
"A standard package is six sets and three rented outfits. Then there's add-ons that raise those numbers and add-ons for 'person and pet' photos, too."
"Person and pet." Andi nods, a knowing little glint sparking her eyes. "I give you permission to use me as a subject for five photos, and you're already scheming for more?"
I chuckle, noting the reappearance of Andi's dimples. Contrary to the point I'm trying to make, the creases do have me considering a scheme to up my photo count. "No scheme. It's an optional addition. But, you know, since I'd be doing everything for free, it sure would be smart to utilize every add-on. Super wasteful otherwise. Don't you think?"
Her tiny, passive-aggressive grin rises. "Hmm." She nods, bobbing her head up and down. "You think you're really cute, don't you?"
I ignore her words. "It'll capitalize off my progress with Bart. And increase yours with Rosie. And Bart and Rosie's together. We have rooms to separate them, but we can also try a little contact. It would be good."
Andi glances back to Bart, who, standing alert, tilts his head. A subtle, momentary little wag flicks his tail.
I capitalize off that. "He's wagging. He wants to go."
Andi clears her throat. "Bart gets tail twitches. That wasn't a wag."
"Sure looked like a wag."
"I've known him longer. Wasn't a wag."
Knowing we could go back and forth all night, I roll my eyes, tilt my head, and stop the useless chatter. I wait for a decision, and, as a beat of silence passes, Andi debates it. I can tell by the waver in her eyes, the way she bites her lip, and the pulsing tick in her jaw.
"If he hates it, we could leave?"
A laugh rips from my throat. "You're phrasing that as a question? Like you think I'll lock you inside? You could leave. I think it would be good to try, though."
"It could be good." She draws out the words as if she's seeing how they taste, testing the flavor on her tongue. "Would Bart be overwhelmed, though? Is the place clean?"
My smile falters. "Oh, um ... " I scratch my neck. "If you get there thirty minutes after me, yes."
Andi narrows her eyes. "Well, that doesn't sound promising."
"We had a busy day, so the studio isn't in the best shape, but that's why I'm going. It'll be back to normal if you arrive a bit later."
"But the cameras? Are they loud? Will the noises scare him? And what about flash? That can be terrifying, blinding even."
"We rarely use flash; we use lights, and I'll turn the camera to silent. It's what we do for most pets, actually. Not even a special change, just regulation."
"I mean ..." She trails off. "Maybe, alright? We can try it." Her face tightens. "But no outfits. None. He's not wearing that stuff."
"Clothes irritate him?"
Some dogs don't like wearing outfits. It annoys them, they rip them off, or they feel trapped in fabrics. Whatever the reason, we don't do it for every pet.
"Well, actually, he's never worn ..." Andi crosses her arms. "He doesn't want to wear anything."
My grin grows. "Oh, alright. I see. Bart's never tried it but thinks he's above it? Too sophisticated? You've raised a pretty pretentious dog there, Andi."
She shrugs. "You say pretentious; I say mature."
"So mature he poops in public, barks loud enough to wake the building, and"—I glance at Bart—"is currently drooling all over your floor?"
Andi darts her eyes to Bart and, specifically, the pool of slobber forming below Teddy. Her lip wobbles. "Well, now you're just being mean." She kneels and swipes a tissue from her bag. "It's okay, Bart. You can't help it. It's not your fault." Among sharp glares at me, Andi cups Bart's head, wipes the drool off his chin, and cleans the puddle.
After finishing, she tosses the tissue in the trashcan, returning to the door. "I highly doubt he would like it."
I stare at Bart. "Why don't we try it, and we'll let him decide."
Bart tilts his head.
I tilt mine. "He wants to try. I can see it in his eyes."
I can't see shit.
"Alright, if you need to insist, I'd be willing to try, but you're gonna be pretty disappointed when he hates it." She grabs her door, shooing me. "Now go. I need to get changed. I went crazy and agreed to be your photo subject, remember?"
I remember.
I've been looking forward to it all day. Maybe more than I should be. Just the thought sparks my fingers, igniting an urge to curl them around my camera and capture Andi—her sweet dimples, her raven hair, her bright smile.
And, while I don't expect zero problems, I can say with ninety-five percent certainty that she will be easier to photograph than Mrs. Carrots.