Fabulously tanked, p.1
Fabulously Tanked, page 1
Fabulously Tanked
PIPER MALONE
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Piper Malone 2018
ISBN: 978-0-9913201-9-6
Edited by Paige Duke/Standoutbooks Ltd
Formatted by BB eBooks
www.bbebooksthailand.com
Cover Art by Minuteman Press
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, their story, and the events that unfold are the creative work of this author. Any resemblance to individuals deceased or living is coincidental.
Thank you for purchasing a copy of this ebook. Your purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. Please do not share your copy of this book. You do not have the right to resell, distribute, print, or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone in any format at any point in time, via any file sharing program. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and it was not purchased by you or for you, please purchase your own copy. If you no longer want this book, you may not give your copy to someone else. Delete this work from your computer. Thank for respecting the author’s hard work.
Dedication
To all the diamonds in the rough, this story is for you.
Shine on, gorgeous.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my friends, family, and fans for your continued dedication and support.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Praise for Piper Malone
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Author’s Note
An Excerpt from Diesel
An Excerpt from Tied
About the Author
Praise for Tied
I’ve been a little burnt out on the BDSM genre but this was a breath of fresh air. It had me cracking up, on the edge of my seat with anticipation, and crying.
– Crazy Daisy Book Whore (CDBW)
Praise for Diesel
A love story like this is what helps me to believe in true love overcoming all odds. Very well done.
– Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads
Praise for Bound
I had plans to do some housework earlier and that got shot out of the window when I picked up my kindle at 24%. I just had to know how it all worked out.
– Crazy Daisy Book Whore (CDBW)
Chapter One
“This mess will never EVER go away. It’s unable to be erased. You know that?”
Poppy Hendricks couldn’t acknowledge the facts. She could only stare at the mammoth television screen hanging on the wall.
“Are you going to say anything at all?” Suzie Garrity, Poppy’s very Type-A assistant, stared at her with unmasked frustration. “Poppy, this is,” Suzie’s entire body shook with disgust, “a total disaster.”
She knew it. The ache of complete mortification seeped into her bones and tightened every inch of her body.
Poppy didn’t have the words to fix it. Normally, she would soothe Suzie’s freak-out with a quick joke or a giant bubble tea. But as she watched the daytime gossip show cackle about her, Poppy knew this would require serious damage control.
“We’re sending him to a ranch. He’s a liability.” Her assistant picked up the phone, and Poppy understood instantly what she was doing.
“No.” Poppy heard the strength in her own voice despite her exhaustion. “Tank isn’t going anywhere.”
Suzie stood, throwing her phone in a mound of fluffy pillows covering the posh overstuffed couch. If she wanted to make a statement, she’d missed the mark. The phone merely punched a deep hole in the cushy mass and disappeared.
Poppy wished she was that phone. All I need is a comfy hole to hide in for a little while.
“You realize we leave for Indiana tomorrow.” Suzie’s body only shuddered slightly when she mentioned the state. When Poppy had landed the lead in The Lies We Lead—the movie version of the hottest romance novel to hit booksellers since … well, forever—she knew it would change her life. She didn’t expect Suzie’s throat to close when she agreed to relocate to the Midwest for ten weeks. As a native Northeasterner, Suzie was 100 percent New York City. She always wondered if Suzie thought about dying her hair black to match her sleek metropolitan wardrobe. Suzie’s primary concern in preparing for the relocation was whether they even had Starbucks in that place.
“I know. My life is packed in boxes,” Poppy replied with an irritated tone as she pulled her wild ginger hair into a sloppy knot on top of her head. “Tank will be okay. We just need some time.”
“It’s been two months, Poppy. I think bringing him into your life was a bad omen.”
“A bad omen?”
“Yup, you can’t bring things from bad situations into good places. They bring their bad mojo with them,” Suzie said.
“That’s ridiculous. So all those families that adopt beautiful, innocent babies from horrible orphanages are bringing bad vibes into their homes?”
“No! You’re thinking about humans. I like humans!”
“You just hate dogs?”
“I don’t hate them. I think there are certain places for them. Like a farm, or the zoo.”
“A zoo!”
“You listen to me right now, Poppy Hendricks.” Suzie made a serious face as she focused on her argument. “You are on the edge of greatness. All those things you want—fame, money, your own home—you are almost there. This movie can skyrocket you into the celebrity life of your dreams. Your brand is suffering because you have a four-legged demon drooling all over you. It was awful when the pap caught you running through Central Park in your pajamas because Tank freaked out over a squirrel. It was only mildly amusing when he slipped out from backstage at your last performance of My Fair Lady and decided to get up close and personal with the mayor’s leg. But this,” she gestured to the television screen, “I have to step in. He’s gone.”
Poppy’s mind swirled with objections, starting with Suzie’s misunderstanding of her dreams. Her dreams were not bedazzled or dripping with diamonds. Her dreams were about the theater. The feelings she’d experienced when she was fitted with the large hoop skirts and attending countless dress rehearsals.
A home and celebrity status would be nice. Belting out “Defying Gravity” as she soared above a captivated audience, now that was her dream.
Poppy was a great negotiator, her mother had tried to get her to attend law school after college. She wasn’t ready to give up on anything—including her dog or getting her name out of the mud.
“Suzie, I think we can spin this. You have great contacts, so let’s make this work for us.”
“Your dog took a dump on the red carpet of the E! News pre-party! How are we going to spin this?” Suzie cried, her wild eyes bulging.
Poppy chewed on her lip and thought about how to pull Suzie off the ledge. She didn’t need her assistant this hysterical, especially not over a puppy.
“Okay, it’s a bad situation, but Tank isn’t a bad dog. He just needs some training and guidance. Let’s hook him up with an Instagram account, pump up the puppy love, brand him as an up-and-coming bad boy turned refined gentleman. You can do this, Suzie. You are the best at making bad situations beautiful. Remember how you smoothed over a certain celebrity punching a waiter at Tavern on the Green? Only you, you, Suzie Garrity could create a media spin about a seafood allergy rendering someone mildly psychotic, thus unknowingly aggressive. Was there a lawsuit?”
Suzie crossed her arms, her eyes focused on the far corner of the room. “No,” she mumbled, vibrating with mildly restrained pride. She might never admit it, but she loved the press conferences, media circuits, and the line of new clients banging down her door.
Poppy was grateful that Suzie had stayed true to her word and hadn’t shuttled her off to an assistant in the PR firm. For as much as Suzie was tough, she was a good agent and knew what Poppy wanted for her brand. Poppy’s values of kindness, determination, and creativity needed to shine in everything she did. Suzie, sometimes reluctantly, helped to make it all happen.
“You can do this, Suzie. Please, help me make Tank an Instagram pet celeb. Help him be a rep for all the adopted dogs out there who have some issues that good families can work through with a little help.”
Poppy held her breath, her face bright with eager anticipation. Come on, Suzie!
Suzie’s sharp green eyes narrowed, a bullish puff of air escaping her nose. “Fine.” Poppy’s squeak of excitement was cut short. “But if this shit, literally, ever happens again, we’re finding a beautiful farm for him to go live out his days, and you can visit him between filming.”
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“But, you must, must, get him neutered. I can’t stand looking at his balls anymore. It’s just gross.” Suzie shivered with the same disgust that accompanied her discussions around moving to Indiana.
“Let’s find a reputable vet who can recommend a good trainer in Indiana, and I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You better, Pop.” Suz ie inhaled a fortifying breath. “Okay, let’s stop watching this.” Suzie gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’ll start researching trainers. Tank has one shot, and once he goes to the big doghouse in the sky, you are not rescuing any more dogs. You got me?”
“Yes, ma’am! You got it.”
After retrieving her phone from the pillow pile, Suzie clucked at the notifications lighting up her screen. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she mumbled as she flicked through the messages. “And keep that dog under control, okay?”
“He’ll be an angel, Suz. Don’t worry. Thank you!”
Suzie rolled her eyes, mumbling something about owing her and having a less-than-executive salary.
Alone in the comfort of the posh hotel room, Poppy exhaled an anxious breath. Suzie was so pissed, her hair would have caught fire if she knew that Poppy had slipped the concierge extra cash to get Tank into her suite.
Walking across the room, Poppy quietly thanked the puppy gods for helping her out and keeping her secret. She entered the bedroom to find Tank nestled in his fluffy monogrammed bed with his favorite chew toy trapped between his paws, fast asleep.
It wasn’t surprising, considering Tank had raced up and down the red carpet three times before security caught him. Her dog was the Houdini of the hound world. Poppy had asked the bellman to take Tank out to help him feel confident when walking the busy streets, but she made the mistake of stepping on the carpet before they were out of sight. Tank wasn’t letting her walk away, and he wasn’t going to let a willowy doorman stop him. Before the poor man could do anything about it, Tank had slipped out of his collar.
The grand plan for Tank had been to train him as an ambassador to visit children’s hospitals, but he needed some socializing. The vet tried to caution Poppy about Tank’s rough beginnings, suggesting that he would struggle for a while until he got comfortable with her. In Tank’s defense, his separation anxiety had improved significantly, but he still struggled.
When Poppy saw him careening down the red carpet, zigzagging around celebs in sparkling dresses, she was mortified. Everyone knew Tank was her dog. She tried to catch him, but her Vera Wang mermaid dress impaired her ability to take a full step, let alone wrangle a fifty-pound dog. Poppy hadn’t known what to do, so she kept talking, smiling, and posing. Watching Suzie run after her dog in her sky-high heels had filled her with dread.
She knew Suzie was close to her limit with Tank’s lack of polish and shine. If Poppy couldn’t help Tank, both of them would end up in the doghouse.
Glancing back at the television, Poppy watched the footage of her ten-month-old Labradoodle curl his back end and poop less than five feet from where Ryan Seacrest was juggling an interview with the Kardashians. The gossip team was split between laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe and cringing in clear disgust at the dog’s action.
“I don’t care what Suzie’s plan is,” Poppy whispered to her sleeping pup. “You are mine.” Her mom’s words rang in her head as she grabbed the remote and flicked off the Hollywood gossip channel. We might have rough times, but we have each other. We fix the problems then laugh at how much we worried about them.
Poppy just hoped her mother was right and that everyone would see that Tank was a diamond in the rough.
Chapter Two
Taylor Mickelson felt the heat of his coffee mug warming his palm as he watched the herd bound around the open run.
He’d stood on this deck his entire life. Thirty-two years of watching his grandparents farm the land made this place home. His grandmother had passed when he was in college, making his memories of the farm even more special.
After Gram’s death, Taylor’s grandfather transferred the property to him. When his beloved grandfather said his final good-bye two years ago, he did so with his blessing for Taylor’s vision for the farm—a sanctuary for animals without a home, a place to rescue and rehab and train dogs so they could find forever homes.
Taylor’s mind wandered as he watched the pack of ten dogs. They ran in wild circles, happy to play in the cool dew clinging to the green grass. Barks of joy echoed across the acres while the pack jumped and played.
Unbridled happiness, Taylor thought as a smile stretched across his face. He felt it too—the freedom of this place. After taking over the farm, Taylor left his day job working with his brother, a do-it-all handyman. It was good hands-on work, which called to Taylor’s soul, but it didn’t have the same satisfaction as working the farm or training a rough-and-tumble shelter dog.
“Have a fun day, pups!” he yelled from the deck before stepping back into the house to refill his coffee.
As Taylor settled into checking his emails before tending to the farm, he heard a familiar sound.
“What took you so long, Coco?” Taylor asked the Elkhound mix slinking into his office. Her rough, wild coat had earned her the name Coconut.
She still wore the same girlie collar the vet had picked out for her when Taylor first brought her in as a rescue. Coconut had been found huddled under an aqueduct with three little puppies. The pups, all healthy, were living the good life in happy homes, and Coconut was on the same path until she moved in with Taylor. He saw her as a sophisticated lady who was not a fan of mud puddles. Coconut never shoved her face in her food bowl to devour dinner, even when roast turkey was on the menu. One day, he called her Coco, and that was when everything changed. People inquired about Coco on adoption days, but Taylor couldn’t give her up.
He liked to think she enjoyed living with him too.
Coco tucked herself under Taylor’s desk and snuggled into her bed by his feet. An exaggerated sigh emanated from under the desk. Coco was ready for a tough day’s work of snoring and making sure her bed did not run away.
Taking a sip of too-hot coffee, Taylor almost choked when he saw the blinking light on his office phone.
Shit! This cannot be the bank again, he thought before grabbing the phone and punching in the access code.
Taylor had been in a bind with the township over expanding the farm and gaining access to the adjoining property behind his. The land was up for sale, and it would provide the space he needed to keep his farm and the dog shelter separate. While Taylor would love to keep all the animals in the same place, the dogs needed their own land.
Taylor was only a few weeks away from securing the down payment money for the adjoining property. He just needed a little more time so he didn’t have to cut into his savings.
On occasion, he would still pick up construction jobs with his brother to make ends meet until the autumn came and he could open the farm to hayrides and pumpkin picking.
Please don’t tell me another buyer made an offer.
Tapping in the code, Taylor held his breath and waited.
“Hello, this message is for Mr. Mickelson. My name is Suzie Garrity. I’m an assistant to Poppy Hendricks. Poppy’s dog, Tank, is in need of training. As we will be in town filming for the next two months, we would like to enlist your services for training. Please call me back at …”
Taylor replayed the message three times before waking up his computer and searching the Internet for “Poppy Hendricks.” Her name was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put a face to the name.
Forty-five minutes later, Taylor had watched YouTube videos of Poppy’s movie trailers and interviews. He also saw Tank in all his glory. Taylor watched videos of the large purebred Labradoodle taking Poppy for a walk as he yanked her down the sidewalk, causing her to slosh a fancy coffee all over her white coat.
Tank was in need of some serious training, and to Poppy’s credit, she never appeared angry or frustrated with the dog.
Taylor played the message again, scrawled all the information on a tablet, and then punched in the numbers to call his sister.
Helen picked up on the first ring. Before she started talking about anything, Taylor blurted, “Do you know who Poppy Hendricks is?”
“Do you live on Mars? Did you really just ask me who Poppy is? She’s filming a movie here in a few weeks—you must read that book, by the way, it’s so hot. Don’t you remember that ruckus at the town hall meeting last month? Poppy’s movie was the reason people were freaking out.” Taylor listened to Helen take a swig of her drink. “Why do you ask?”
