Never Say Sty Read Online Free PDF

at her feet. Lexie was one, and she leaped onto my lap.

    “Hi, girl,” I crooned, though I had to speak up since now the sounds of barks barged in from the animal area.

    “Sorry to bother you, Darryl,” lied the ill-tempered blonde bombshell who, like many around the area, aspired to become a star. Good thing she obviously loved dogs, for they clearly loved her back. And she hadn’t been cast in anything I knew about. “An owner is here and asking about long-term pet-sitting. I explained we don’t do it . . . but that you sometimes give referrals.” She shot a dagger of a glare at me, followed by a too-sweet smile.

    “Come on, Kendra,” Darryl said. “I’ll introduce you, and if it’s an assignment my favorite pet-sitter doesn’t want to take, you can refer the owner to a fellow member of the Pet-Sitters Club of Southern California.”

    “Fair enough.” I deposited my darling pup on the floor as I followed Kiki and Darryl out the office door and into the enormous chamber where dogs of many sizes mingled, with careful human supervision. Before we got to the front desk I touched Darryl’s arm. “Don’t think our conversation is over,” I said. “I want to know what you weren’t telling me.”

    “It’s no big deal,” he said, but the way his face lit up shouted otherwise. “It’s just that I’ve got a new girlfriend.”

    With that, he turned and started talking to the guy who stood at the sign-in desk, a golden retriever at his side.

    I was too floored to join them as I swallowed my surprise. I knew Darryl dated now and then, even spoke of fixing him up with a friend once. But for the entire length of our friendship, I’d always dumped my tales of woe in the relationship arena on him, not vice versa.

    Now he was not only dating, but whoever it was had been elevated to the position of girlfriend without his even hinting of it? Well, I’d hide my hurt and swallow any advice . . . for now.

    I needed to know who it was—and whether she was good enough for my best buddy Darryl.

     
     
    I WAS STILL a whole lot irritated with Darryl the next day, when I entered the Yurick & Associates offices. The attorney representing Dante DeFrancisco was coming in shortly to finalize our contract negotiations.

    “Hi, Kendra,” chirped Mignon, the Yurick firm receptionist, as I entered the former restaurant building. Perky as always, her auburn curls bobbing, she sat at the front desk in the area where greeters must once have shown hungry patrons to their tables. “I’ve got the conference room reserved for you all morning, okay?”

    “Great,” I told her. “The other lawyer should arrive in about an hour.”

    I was wrong. The other lawyer arrived in half an hour. His name was Glen Elizarian. He was a partner in a major downtown law firm, mid-forties, and mighty sure of himself, judging by his condescending smile. No business casual for him; he was dressed to impress in an obviously expensive navy suit and silk tie.

    And he wasn’t alone. Dante was with him. Well, why not? It was his dollars we’d be dealing in here. I shook their hands, showed them into the former bar that now served as the Yurick firm’s conference room . . . and we came out fighting.

    Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it took two hours to hash out final details. At times, the discussion grew so contentious that I wondered whether Dante would walk.

    To his credit, he hung in and even instructed his attorney to give in on some positions. We discussed how much he’d expend and how, and the way HotPets promotion would be incorporated into our production.

    And when we were done, Dante gave me a genuine smile. “No wonder your ‘animal dispute resolution’ seems to go so well. But I’ve been watching you. I really don’t know how you’ve managed, in addition to your excellent lawyering skills, and your growing pet-sitting business, to become an amateur sleuth, too. If you explain that to me, we’ll have a