I walked back into the room and painted a fake smile on my face.
Mason took one look at me and furrowed his brow. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” I lied.
I hardly knew the guy; I wasn’t about to confess to him about all my personal problems. No matter how kind he seemed or how easy on the eyes he was, I still didn’t trust him. He was a man, after all, and based on my experiences with men, even the good ones didn’t stay good forever. I took a seat next to him, mentally scolding myself for socializing with him so freely before. I’d showed him around the house. He’d met my daughter. That needed to stop right now. We needed to focus on business.
I cleared my throat. “So, there’s just one problem with your request,” I said. “I currently don’t have a training facility, and right now, all my available dogs are split between different rescues across Utah. I usually prefer working with dogs I already know, since I’m familiar with their personalities and can gauge whether they’d make a good service dog, but without a facility and all that, I really don’t think I can help you right now.”
“Well, I’m happy to pay you very well for your time,” Mason said. “I’ll pay double - no, make that triple - what you’d normally charge per hour. It’s very important that we get my friend the best dog possible, and I trust you.”
I was in shock over his generous offer and swallowed before speaking. “You hardly even know me.”
“Yeah, but I read your reviews, and I’m also a good judge of character. I can tell you’re good at what you do. You’re passionate and caring,” he said, a crooked grin on that handsome face.
“That’s very generous of you, but—" I thought about Greg. He had once offered the property to me as a very generous gift, no strings attached. But there’d been strings; I only got caught up in them later. My eyes narrowed. “But why would you want to pay me so much more than my going rate?”
“Because I only want to work with you, and it’s clear you need the help getting back on your feet. I’ll pay you today,” he said, pulling out his wallet. “How much you need? I don’t know what’s a fair rate for this sort of thing. $10,000 maybe?”
My throat felt like it had clenched shut to try and stop me from speaking. God, I needed that money. I needed it so badly…I should say yes. But he seemed eager. Too eager.
“You’re still here!” Skyler’s voice cut through my thoughts. In her arms was our big, white, fluffy cat. “Meet Marshmallow.”
“Oh, what a good-looking kitty,” Mason said, reaching down to pet the cat’s head. Marshmallow loved attention and enjoyed being held and carried by Skyler, which was one reason I’d kept the cat when he’d come into our shelter. The animal purred as Mason scratched under his chin.
He was perfect. Too perfect. Just like when I’d met Greg. He was all charming and full of flattery. He’d ooh and aah at animals with me, donating large sums of money to charities and advertising what a good man he was to try and lure me in. It taught me something - never trust a man that seems too perfect. If it seems too good to be true, it’s probably because he has something to hide.
So what was Mason Harvey up to, and what did he want?
“Mr. Harvey, I—I can’t work with you,” I said flatly.
Mason stopped petting the cat and stared at me. “Why not?”
“Well, first of all, why would you offer to give me $10,000 just out of the blue like this? Right as I’m telling you that I don’t have a facility or my dogs. It feels off to me.”
“Like I said, I trust you, Danielle.”
Trust me? He barely even knows me. Sure, he read my reviews, but to just hand me a large sum of money based on reviews online seemed fishy. I’d noticed the way he’d looked at me when we first saw each other. His eyes had nearly exploded from his head as he gave me a once over. Sure, I was ogling him too, but that was different. I wasn’t offering an exorbitant amount of money for a job that wouldn’t cost near that much.
“What do you really want, Mason?” I asked. I reached over and cupped my hands over Skyler’s ears, and lowered my voice. “Because if it’s sex you want, you can get prostitutes far cheaper than what you’re offering me.”
Skyler scowled at me as I removed my hands from her ears.
His eyes widened, confusion on his face. “That’s not—I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re a beautiful woman, but that isn’t at all what I was looking for. I just want to help.”
Mason’s brow furrowed in concern and his eyes seemed so sincere, I wanted to believe him. Hell, maybe I did believe him - that he didn’t want sex from me. But I knew from experience that no one just handed you ten grand on a job that would likely cost half that or less without expecting a little more out of the deal. Eventually, my debt to him would come due, and the last thing I needed was owing my life to another man.
“I don’t need your charity, thank you. I’ll do what I can to find a suitable dog for your friend, though I can’t promise anything since I don’t know of any off hand. But if I find one, I’ll do the work for my regular fees only.” I rose from the table, a hint that I was ready to show him out.
Mason looked as if he wanted to argue, but he nodded and said, “Alright then. I appreciate that.”
He handed me a card with his name and contact details. I tucked it into my pocket as we headed for the door.
I wanted to believe that Mason was doing all of this out of the goodness of his heart. He seemed like the type of guy who would. But the last time I thought that about any man, I ended up waist deep in debt and caught in a web I would unlikely ever be free from.
We said our goodbyes, and my eyes lingered on his tight ass as he walked to his truck.
“I like him,” Skyler said from beside me.
“You hardly know him,” I muttered.
“He was nice,” my daughter retorted matter-of-factly.
I didn’t want to teach my daughter to be bitter at such a young age, so I kept my thoughts to myself. She was too young to know about the shady people in the world. I stroked her hair back from her face and asked, “So, do you want pizza for dinner tonight?”
I knew the answer before I asked the question. Skyler always wanted pizza.
“Yes! Yes, please Mama! Can we have pizza? Pretty please?”
It was a rare treat these days, as we tried to eat at home as much as possible. But I was tired, and Mason’s visit had pushed back my plans to go to the store. I picked up my phone and called the local pizza place since they didn’t have online ordering.
Skyler was dancing around the living room, singing a made-up song about pizza. I’d almost forgotten about the call with her father and smiled at her sweet innocence.
I plopped down on the couch, my eyes feeling heavy from the long day. I still had to bathe Skyler and put her to bed after dinner. Normally, I’d try to get some work done, but tonight, I was likely to pass out right after she did.
I leaned my head back against the couch, my eyes growing heavier.
Something bumped against my leg, and I opened my eyes. I stared into the eyes of my massive Great Dane. His big, brown gaze and floppy ears brought a smile to my face. Oscar’s grey fur was silky and soft under my fingers. The massive dog rested his head on my chest, leaning into me a bit. He was still just a pup by Dane standards, only around eight months old, but he was easily the most well-behaved dog I’d ever met. So easy to train too. He seemed to understand what I needed from him before I gave the command, and like tonight, he was always willing to lean on me and remind me that there are, indeed, some good males in the world. They just happened to be dogs.
In the past, I’d thought he would make an excellent therapy dog. He was intuitive and friendly and not a mean bone in his body. He loved everyone he met and was truly the epitome of a gentle giant.
“It’s hard to believe you came to me as a scrawny runt,” I said, scratching behind his ears. “Now look at you.”
He was still small by Great Dane standards - only one hundred pounds. Males could reach a hundred and fifty to two hundred, but Oscar hadn’t outgrown his runt status. Or perhaps he was mixed with something. He had the Dane face and body, just on a smaller frame. He also had the temperament. I always said it was a good thing he was smaller than most, though, since the larger ones typically had such short life spans.
There was a thought in the back of my mind, one I was trying to push away. But my brain just wouldn’t shut up.
Oscar would make a perfect emotional support dog.
Yes, yes he would. He was practically mine already. But…
The only but was that I didn’t want to give him up.
But he could truly help someone, my brain countered my heart. He could help Mason’s friend.
Oscar gazed at me as if trying to understand why there were tears welling in my eyes. He gently licked my hand, reminding me he was there for me.
“You’re a good boy, Oscar,” I murmured. “The best boy.”
It’s not like you would never see him again. He’d be living in town. And you could open your home to another dog in need.
None of the dogs I’d sheltered was as ready for emotional support training as Oscar. Hell, he’d probably need very little training. He was a natural.