Paws off the Boss, Casey Griffin [ereader for textbooks TXT] 📗

in the late morning sun, hiding any evidence of Laura’s love note. Piper rounded the car and noticed the passenger window had been replaced.

Grinning, she opened the VW’s door to have a look, and a wave of pine freshness hit her. It had that new-car smell to it. Someone had vacuumed the glass out of every nook and cranny and then detailed it. Her old Bug looked like new. Well, sort of.

She went back inside for her phone and texted Aiden while she continued to make breakfast.

You fixed my car!

A few minutes later, her phone chimed. I pulled some strings and got it into the shop during the night. Tamara drove it back. Are you upset?

Piper’s mouth twisted at the mention of Tamara. For a brief second, she worried about sabotage. How hard would it be for the woman to cut her brake lines? As she considered her response, she received another text. I also had them address that check engine light.

She frowned. But it’s been there forever. It could have waited.

Until when? When you were on your way to your exam, or your first day at work, and it exploded?

Piper rolled her eyes. It wasn’t going to explode :P

Your car? Yes. It would have.

Ha ha. Don’t hate the car just because you’re jealous.

She stared out the window at her perfect VW and knew she wasn’t upset. It was actually a very thoughtful gesture. It also fixed her transportation issue.

Thank you. To show she was sincere, she added, :).

You’re welcome. X.

Relying on others wasn’t really Piper’s thing. It didn’t come naturally to her. She avoided being indebted to anyone—you know, except for the bank, the credit card company, and the IRS. But with Aiden, she didn’t feel indebted, at least not since they’d talked it over. It was about give-and-take, and she looked forward to doing nice things for him in return. She went to get ready for work, smiling as she imagined how she would pay him back when he got home that night.

That smile remained there as she crawled into her VW Bug with Colin and headed to her telegram gig—after testing the brakes first. It didn’t even disappear when she heard the radio tune in instead of the Katy Perry CD that had been stuck in her ancient deck for the last two years.

Startled, Piper glanced down. A brand-new, expensive-looking system sat in the dash. Even then, her smile didn’t waiver.

In her pine-fresh car, Piper and Colin headed across town to the UCSF campus to tell someone they’d done a “super” job that year—or rather, sing to them. She’d considered bringing Sophie, but Colin was enough of a handful as it was. He didn’t match her Supergirl costume, but she’d never had to explain his presence during the occasional performance in the past. Everyone would just call him adorable and want to pet him. He’d lap up the attention while Piper would rake in the tips, which were always better when he was with her—because, apparently, he was cuter than she was.

Afterward, she practically floated all the way to the rescue center on cloud nine. When a love song came on the radio, she caught herself singing along with it. Snorting, she shook her head at her pathetic self. She was acting like Addison. But maybe now she understood what her friend was talking about when it came to love.

Love. There wasn’t even a hint of sarcasm in her attitude as she thought of the word. Was it too much too soon? Was it possible? With Aiden, she felt anything was possible. With him, nothing was too much.

Of course, there were still those doubts, the questions plaguing Piper about his work, about why he’d been so secretive about the center. But every doubt she’d had so far had turned out to be something silly and insignificant, something that could be explained away. There had to be a simple explanation for everything. Right?

But her life was never that simple. And she was reminded of that the moment she pulled into the rescue center parking lot. The smile that had been lingering since she’d woken up that morning melted from her face. Lording over the lot was a sign with big, black glaring letters.

Rezoning Application.

Piper parked the car and frowned at Colin. “Rezoning for what?”

Colin leaned against the passenger window, staring at the sign in the same confused way she was. He gave her what was most certainly a shrug. Beats me.

She slipped a light coat over her costume and grabbed her backpack with a change of clothes. She jumped out of her car, marching over to the ten-foot-tall sign. Colin sniffed around the wooden posts before raising his leg and letting the sign know exactly what he thought about it.

Piper studied the lines and measurements of the enlarged map, trying to understand what she was seeing. Or rather, trying to find some other explanation, some way to deny what it was telling her. With a shaking hand, she slid her sunglasses on top of her head, as though that might make things clearer.

The plot of land in question encompassed not only the dachshund rescue center but several of the surrounding properties as well. They wanted to change the classification from commercial to residential.

She read the details of the proposal, thinking there must be some mistake, but it confirmed what the map told her. They wanted to build something where the rescue center was. Her beloved rescue center.

Holding out a steadying hand, Piper leaned against the sign, her breaths coming faster and faster. Right in front of her face, she found a note at the bottom of the sign: “Further information may be obtained from Caldwell and Son Investments Ltd.”

Of course, she thought, tears prickling her eyes. Because the only person who could apply for rezoning was the owner. Her boyfriend.