Free The Lucky Dog Matchmaking Service by Beth Kendrick
Authors: Beth Kendrick
silk for me.”
“It’s like you read my mind.” Kerry had been on a major lemon kick all through her third trimester. “Speaking of Mullet, I got a new inquiry for her.”
“Through the Web site?”
“Yeah. An older lady who wanted a companion, but the meet and greet was a disaster. Mullet wouldn’t even come out and say hi. This poor woman drove all the way over from Sun City, and Mullet just sat under the kitchen table, glared at her, and peed on the floor.”
Lara shook her head. “Subtle.” Her cell phone chimed, but she didn’t want to answer while she was eating.
“Pick up,” Kerry urged. “It’s probably Oprah, offering to give you your own talk show now that your cuticles are under control.”
Lara was laughing when she answered the call. “This is Lara Madigan.”
“Hel-lo,” trilled a melodic, cultured female voice. “This is Cherie Chadwick. I watched your news interview yesterday, and I’d like to hire you.”
Lara took a sip of water and tried to sound professional.
“Hi, Cherie. I’m so glad you’ve decided to adopt a rescue dog, and I’ll do everything I can to find a great match for you. But you don’t really ‘hire’ me. The only fee you’ll have to pay is a donation to the rescue group once you’ve completed the adoption application and home interview.”
“You misunderstand; I already have a dog. A purebred Bernese mountain dog.”
Lara shot Kerry a puzzled glance. “Oh.”
“I’d like to start showing her,” Cherie continued, “and I want you to be my handler.”
“What you’re describing is conformation competitions, and I don’t have any experience with that sort of thing.” Lara tried to explain the difference between conformation shows, which were the canine equivalent of a beauty pageant, and competitive obedience trials. “I do basic training and behavior modification, not dog shows.”
“That’s immaterial to me.” Cherie sounded relentlessly upbeat. “I want someone who understands dogs and has stage presence. That’s you. I live in Mayfair Estates. Are you familiar with the neighborhood?”
Mayfair Estates was a posh gated community in North Scottsdale, tucked away in the hills and bordered by a vast nature preserve. Home values started at two million dollars and shot up exponentially from there; country club membership fees alone were more than Lara’s take-home salary. Lots of pro athletes lived there, along with CEOs, trust fund babies . . . and Justine.
“Oh yes,” Lara said. “My mother lives there.”
“Your mother?” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Are you Justine Madigan’s daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Really.” Cherie’s cheeriness gave way to incredulity. “I never would have guessed.”
“I get that a lot.”
“Fascinating.” Cherie shook off her surprise and barreled straight on to her point. “Well, I’d love to have you over for coffee tomorrow and introduce you to Eskie.”
Lara slipped in a tiny, fortifying bite of pie, then tried to regain control of the conversation. “I’d help you if I could, but really, I wouldn’t even know where to start with conformation work. If you’d like, I can ask around and get you the names of some experienced show handlers.”
It was as though she’d never even spoken. Cherie countered with, “I have an unlimited budget, and I’m willing to pay you accordingly.”
Lara thought about the mountain of vet bills that Lucky Dog rescue had incurred over the last few months and replied, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Is nine too early?”
“Nine o’clock is perfect.”
“Great. And, um, Ms. Chadwick?”
“Call me Cherie.”
“Did the TV station give out my cell phone number?”
“Of course not.”
“Then how . . . ?”
There was that soft musical laugh again. “Oh, I always get what I want. You’ll see.”
Chapter 8
“We have problems,” Evan informed Lara as soon as she walked in the door. “Dog
“It’s like you read my mind.” Kerry had been on a major lemon kick all through her third trimester. “Speaking of Mullet, I got a new inquiry for her.”
“Through the Web site?”
“Yeah. An older lady who wanted a companion, but the meet and greet was a disaster. Mullet wouldn’t even come out and say hi. This poor woman drove all the way over from Sun City, and Mullet just sat under the kitchen table, glared at her, and peed on the floor.”
Lara shook her head. “Subtle.” Her cell phone chimed, but she didn’t want to answer while she was eating.
“Pick up,” Kerry urged. “It’s probably Oprah, offering to give you your own talk show now that your cuticles are under control.”
Lara was laughing when she answered the call. “This is Lara Madigan.”
“Hel-lo,” trilled a melodic, cultured female voice. “This is Cherie Chadwick. I watched your news interview yesterday, and I’d like to hire you.”
Lara took a sip of water and tried to sound professional.
“Hi, Cherie. I’m so glad you’ve decided to adopt a rescue dog, and I’ll do everything I can to find a great match for you. But you don’t really ‘hire’ me. The only fee you’ll have to pay is a donation to the rescue group once you’ve completed the adoption application and home interview.”
“You misunderstand; I already have a dog. A purebred Bernese mountain dog.”
Lara shot Kerry a puzzled glance. “Oh.”
“I’d like to start showing her,” Cherie continued, “and I want you to be my handler.”
“What you’re describing is conformation competitions, and I don’t have any experience with that sort of thing.” Lara tried to explain the difference between conformation shows, which were the canine equivalent of a beauty pageant, and competitive obedience trials. “I do basic training and behavior modification, not dog shows.”
“That’s immaterial to me.” Cherie sounded relentlessly upbeat. “I want someone who understands dogs and has stage presence. That’s you. I live in Mayfair Estates. Are you familiar with the neighborhood?”
Mayfair Estates was a posh gated community in North Scottsdale, tucked away in the hills and bordered by a vast nature preserve. Home values started at two million dollars and shot up exponentially from there; country club membership fees alone were more than Lara’s take-home salary. Lots of pro athletes lived there, along with CEOs, trust fund babies . . . and Justine.
“Oh yes,” Lara said. “My mother lives there.”
“Your mother?” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Are you Justine Madigan’s daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Really.” Cherie’s cheeriness gave way to incredulity. “I never would have guessed.”
“I get that a lot.”
“Fascinating.” Cherie shook off her surprise and barreled straight on to her point. “Well, I’d love to have you over for coffee tomorrow and introduce you to Eskie.”
Lara slipped in a tiny, fortifying bite of pie, then tried to regain control of the conversation. “I’d help you if I could, but really, I wouldn’t even know where to start with conformation work. If you’d like, I can ask around and get you the names of some experienced show handlers.”
It was as though she’d never even spoken. Cherie countered with, “I have an unlimited budget, and I’m willing to pay you accordingly.”
Lara thought about the mountain of vet bills that Lucky Dog rescue had incurred over the last few months and replied, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Is nine too early?”
“Nine o’clock is perfect.”
“Great. And, um, Ms. Chadwick?”
“Call me Cherie.”
“Did the TV station give out my cell phone number?”
“Of course not.”
“Then how . . . ?”
There was that soft musical laugh again. “Oh, I always get what I want. You’ll see.”
Chapter 8
“We have problems,” Evan informed Lara as soon as she walked in the door. “Dog