Collie jolly, p.1
Collie Jolly, page 1
COLLIE JOLLY
LEIGH LANDRY
COLLIE JOLLY by Leigh Landry
Published by Leigh Landry
Lafayette, LA, USA
© 2019 Leigh Landry
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover design by germancreative
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Also by Leigh Landry
About Leigh Landry
CHAPTER 1
Ashley stared at the pile of business casual clothing occupying half of her bedroom floor. Slacks. Polyester blouses. A couple of fitted suit jackets. How fast would they go up in flames? How badly did she want back the damage deposit on her apartment?
Music. That’s what she needed. A theme song.
She grabbed her phone and sent The Clash to her wireless speaker on the nightstand. It only took a few lines of blasting lyrics before her roommate appeared in the doorway.
Even though it was only seven-thirty, Theresa had already changed into her sweatpants, fuzzy reindeer socks, and a Tulane hoodie. Her hair was wrapped in a bright, rainbow paisley silk scarf, the bold colors playing gorgeously against her luminous, freshly moisturized light brown skin. Theresa waited tables at a busy touristy place near the Quarter, and she’d worked lunch shift today after two days of doubles before that. How she hadn’t already crashed in bed, Ashley had no idea.
“What the heck is going on in here?”
“I’m getting rid of my work clothes. Not like I need them anymore.” Ashley surveyed the pile. “Got any matches?”
Theresa scrunched her face and looked back and forth between the pile and Ashley.
“Kidding,” Ashley said. But The Clash sang: Robbin' people with a six-gun; I fought the law and the law won. “Mostly?”
Theresa crossed her arms and cleared her throat as she leaned against the doorframe. “So instead of finding another job, you’re going to…what? Burn your clothes and commit armed robbery?”
“Probably not.” Well, at least not the felony part.
“What are you doing here anyway? It’s the weekend after Thanksgiving.”
Ashley temporarily put her life of crime on hold to flash her roommate a confused look. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You don’t spend a normal weekend evening in this bedroom, let alone the official start of the holidays: Peak Ashley Season. In all the years I’ve known you, I haven’t once seen you in a bad mood in December, much less home on a Saturday night.”
“Well, for one, it isn’t December yet.” She sighed. “And two, that’s because my life hasn’t been over in December before.”
Theresa rolled her eyes. “Dramatic much?”
“I’m just getting started.” Ashley plopped onto the edge of her bed.
Dramatic.
Dramatic would be curling up in a corner for weeks while pretending she hadn’t been laid off without notice. When the oil industry went into yet another shitty plummet, the web development company she worked for lost a ton of work from those clients. Because apparently, no one gives a shit about sprucing up their websites when they’re laying off people left and right across the state.
“Isn’t there some post-Thanksgiving bash you can go to?”
Normally, Theresa would be on the right track. Nothing could drag Ashley out of a funk like surrounding herself with music and people. Especially new people. She could easily make a few calls, put on something sparkly, and head out for some mood-boosting fun.
But she didn’t exactly have mood-boosting funds anymore. In fact, she didn’t have funds at all now, unless she counted her savings. Which she was trying her best not to count on.
She’d had a plan before the layoff. Multiple plans. Five-year plans. Ten-year plans. Long-term retirement plans. None of those plans involved touching her as-yet meager savings. Certainly not for pick-me-up partying.
Heck, she had rented this tiny Bywater apartment, complete with a gorgeous view of…the levee, because the plan didn’t include fancy Downtown digs. Not yet, at least. So she wasn’t about to blow up her savings on partying while unemployed.
Unemployed.
Her boss had assured her they’d give her a call as soon as they got clients back if she didn’t find work elsewhere in the meantime. Great, except no one knew how long this current industry recession would last. Could be months. Could be years.
“You know what you need?” Theresa sat on the bed beside Ashley and nudged her arm. “A cat.”
Ashley let out a small laugh. Theresa had been campaigning for an apartment kitten for the last six months. Ashley was worried about the time and attention a kitten would require with both of them working so much, so Theresa had shifted her pitch to an older cat. Something chill and mostly self-sufficient but still snuggly. Now that she was out of work, she lost ground on the we-don’t-have-time-for-a-cat argument.
“You can’t adopt a cat every time I listen to The Clash.”
“No, but if you’re listening to The Clash at the beginning of the holiday season, this feels like a cat emergency.”
“There is no such thing as a cat emergency.” Ashley tried to sound convincing. The whole cat thing was actually starting to sound like a solid plan.
Theresa lifted her legs slightly to wave her fuzzy reindeer socks in the air. “Want me to put on pants and go out with you?”
Ashley shook her head. It was the sweetest offer she’d probably ever heard—especially coming from the Queen of Homebodies who was clearly exhausted from a long week. “I appreciate it, but no.”
“Listen.” Theresa sighed. “I know you’re bummed about work. But you’ll find another job in no time.”
Ashley snorted. “Yeah, right.”
The health of oil and gas had an unfortunate ripple effect on every other industry in the area. Jobs, even tech jobs, would be hard to come by for a while. Particularly for someone young without connections. So much of how things got done in this city still boiled down to who you knew and who owed who favors.
Theresa nudged her arm. “Hey, come work with me. You know we’re always turning over servers.”
“That’s not exactly a glowing endorsement.”
“I can totally talk them into giving you some shifts until you find something more permanent.”
Ashley leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Theresa kissed the top of her head. “Any time. Now, can we cut out the arson and punk anthems for the night? Maybe donate the clothes instead of getting us evicted?”
Ashley reached for her phone, which had switched over to the Ramones, to lower the volume. “Sorry. I’ll keep my shenanigans down.”
“I’m just worried about you.” Theresa stood. “You need anything? Dance party? Ice cream and a rom-com?” She struggled to stifle a yawn and failed. “Puppy internet videos?”
Ashley had really lucked out three years ago when she’d come home early one day and found her shit-stain of an ex-boyfriend showering with her equally shitty ex-roommate. She’d promptly sent both their asses packing, and the universe sent her this sweet angel to pay half the rent. Theresa had quickly evolved into Ashley’s best friend, confidant, and fleece-clad partner in crime.
“Thanks, but you should get some rest. I’ll be fine.”
Theresa looked exhausted but unconvinced. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. I’m going to snuggle up with a duke. I only have two chapters left with this one.” She gave a weak wave before turning down the hall. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
With Theresa gone, Ashley looked back at her pile of clothes on the floor and stood to get a garbage bag from the kitchen. Packing them for a charity drop-off was probably a better plan than burning them. At least this way someone else could benefit from her failure.
By the time she returned with the bag and started stuffing the clothes inside, she’d decided maybe storing them in the closet for a while was an even better idea. Or at least a more frugal idea. Less satisfying than setting the pile on fire, but definitely more sensible. No point buying all new clothes if she would eventually get another job. Even if that was a year from now. Or more.
The thing that annoyed her most—aside from the obvious loss of the job itself—was that Theresa was right. This was Ashley Season.
It was the weekend after Thanksgiving. She should have been taking out a box of decorations instead of packing bags of clothes. She should have been hanging lights and garlands and putting out bowls of scented pinecones, but she wasn’t at all in the mood for that right now. This was her favorite time of the year. And it was ruined.
Ashley abandoned the packing task and brought her laptop onto the bed. Surely she could find
She’d hoped she’d never have to do that again. Especially not in the French Quarter, where there was an endless parade of grabby tourists thinking the whole city was rule-free and consequence-free and that everyone living here existed purely for their pleasure. And since Ashley was the worst actress in the world, her true emotions always plainly painted on her face, she could never hide her disgust or rage. That didn’t exactly translate to tips.
She pulled up a job site and scrolled through for anything in web development or design that she might be even remotely qualified for. Everything she found—including the entry-level positions—required five-plus years of experience. She had three. Four if she stretched and fudged. She’d apply for those anyway, but with everyone losing jobs lately, the current level of job market competition wouldn’t leave that kind of resume wiggle room.
She sighed and stared at the empty stretch of the bed beside her. Maybe a cat wasn’t such a bad idea. She could sure use some pets and purrs right about now. And her jobless butt wouldn’t exactly entice a whole lot of human snuggle potential. Sure, she could probably find a warm body on a dating app, but random lonely hookups weren’t on the five-year plan.
Neither was a cat, though.
Ashley went back to scrolling and expanded her search to everything available in the area. In between the tech listings, she found plenty of openings in hospitality (see: worst actress evidence above) and retail (see: same evidence). She also found a million ads for nurses and nursing techs. Even if her bedside manner wasn’t worse than her tableside manner, she couldn’t have her own blood drawn without getting lightheaded and nauseated. No way could she carry around trays of other people’s blood or change nasty bed sheets.
She was ready to give up when a different listing caught her eye.
Dog walker.
Huh. Maybe? Definitely not on the five-year plan, but it could keep her from dipping into her retirement fund at the ripe age of twenty-five.
And…whoa. That pay couldn’t be right.
She opened the listing and read the description. No formal requirements, not even a “must love dogs” clause. But the job was more than just dog walking. They wanted training too. Ashley had never trained a dog in her life. She’d never even had a dog as a kid.
But she liked dogs. And she’d always wanted one. Her home life had been a mess when she was a kid, and the thing that stuck out to her about all her friends whose parents stayed together and didn’t fight or shuffle their kids from house to house was that they all had a family dog. A dog was most definitely on the ten-year plan.
She decided she could handle walking a dog, and it couldn’t be that hard to teach a dog to sit. Right? There were books for that. With instructions. She could read and follow instructions and hang out with a cute dog.
She typed an email, perky but professional, pitching herself as a seasoned dog person. Then she attached her resume and hoped they wouldn’t look at it. She couldn’t possibly manipulate its contents to make it appear that she was even remotely qualified for this job.
Still, she had a good feeling. Maybe it was almost-December vibes. Christmas magic was totally a thing. And if anyone deserved a little of that magic right now, Ashley did.
With a lighter heart, Ashley closed the laptop and returned to packing her clothes. As she put the last pair of slacks in the bag and stuffed it in the closet, her phone rang. It was an unknown local number.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Ashley?” The voice was feminine with a sharp edge.
“Yes.”
“Hi Ashley, I’m Madison. I’m calling about the dog walking position you inquired about.”
That was fast. She didn’t expect to hear anything for at least a week. “Did I forget to include something?” Weird that they wouldn’t just email to ask her for more information or references or whatever.
“No, no, no,” the woman said. “This all looks good. I was calling to see if we could set up an interview.”
Ashley was surprised the woman had had time to read her email, much less look over her resume. “An interview? Absolutely. When would be a good time for you?”
“How about tomorrow morning?”
“Sure,” Ashley stammered. “That would be fine. Great, I mean! Um, what time and where would you like to meet?”
“How about Crescent Cafe? The big coffee shop on Magazine? It’s a few blocks from my place and has outdoor seating, so I can meet you there with Bacchus. The dog. How about there at nine?”
The woman’s words fell out quickly and had an air of insistence and hope hanging from them. Her voice was that just-right pitch—slightly low for a woman’s voice—that Ashley just adored.
She pulled the phone away from her ear and shook her head. Jeez. She wasn’t looking for a date here. Especially not with someone who could potentially be her boss. That wasn’t in any plan.
“Sounds great. I’m looking forward to meeting you and Bacchus.”
“Great! Me too. I’ll see you at nine tomorrow morning. I’ll be the one with the Border Collie.”
A Border Collie. At least she knew what those looked like. Not much else about them, other than they were adorable.
“Looking forward to it!” she said. “See you then.”
Ashley shook off her daydreams of wandering the city with an adorable dog and getting paid for it.
First, she had to ace an interview.
This was turning out better than she could have hoped. She could potentially get paid to basically exercise and hang out with a dog. And she would be having coffee with the woman who owned that delicious voice.
Focus, Ashley.
Coffee with the dog. Yes, the dog and the job were what mattered here.
With her spirits lifted and hope in her heart, Ashley raced to the closet to dig for the perfect interview outfit.
CHAPTER 2
A biting gust of cold air cut across Madison’s face as she turned the corner at the end of the block onto Magazine Street. She was practically running toward the coffee shop, but not because of the cold and certainly not by choice.
Bacchus jogged a couple feet ahead of her, the leash taut, dragging her the whole way. The puppy—technically he was a year old, but still very much a puppy most days—glanced back at her every few feet with pure joy on his face. His jubilance might have been infectious…if the flea magnet hadn’t been yanking her arm out of its socket.
When they reached the coffee shop, Madison started to panic for a second. All the outdoor tables were taken, even with the massive cold front that had just swooped through the area. She normally came here during the week, and she forgot to take into account how busy it might be on a Sunday morning. Especially on a holiday weekend. Lots of locals and tourists alike were out and about shopping downtown, which was close enough to attract plenty of extra foot traffic.
It wasn’t even December yet, and she was already a mess. How was she going to get through the anniversary if she couldn’t even make it through November with her mind intact?
A woman sitting alone stood and flashed a great big smile at them. “Madison?” she asked.
“Yes. Ashley?” Bacchus tangled the leash as he excitedly sniffed all around the woman’s legs. She wore skinny black pants, a crisp blue button-down shirt, and shiny flats that didn’t look comfortable enough for walking a dog.
“Yes.” She pushed her big, dark sunglasses on top of her head, perching them on her sleek raven-black hair, and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Madison shook her hand, then gestured down at the tangle of leash and dog caught in the cafe chair legs. She gritted her teeth and held back a gigantic sigh. “And this is Bacchus.”
Ashley crouched beside the chair and let the dog sniff her hand. Then she pet him and tried to coax him out. When he only got himself more stuck, she reached for the leash. “May I?”
