Magdalene smiled. “Oh my goodness. You’re very good at your job. This big boy doesn’t listen to anyone.”
As nutty as the entire situation was, I still felt proud of what I’d accomplished. “Thank you.” I smiled. “Or danke.” I almost laughed after I said that last comment, but I couldn’t help getting into the act. After my demonstration, I gave Magdalene some tips I’d picked up from the internet, and then it was time to go.
“Okay. Well. Good luck with him. He’s a sweet dog.”
Magdalene walked me to the door. “You’ll be back next week, right?”
“Umm. Well . . .”
“Birdie is going to be so upset she missed today. To be honest, we’d forgotten all about your coming when she made these plans with her troop. I’m sure she’ll be standing at the door waiting for you next Tuesday.”
Standing at the door waiting for me.
I pictured Birdie with her nose pressed to the glass, excited to work on the dog’s training.
I couldn’t let her down. Could I?
One more week won’t hurt too much, will it? I mean, I was already this far in—how could I end things without at least meeting little Birdie now? Plus, she’d be so disappointed if the trainer quit after the very first day.
“You know what, sure. I’ll see you next Tuesday.”
I walked outside and took a deep breath.
Shit. Here we go again.
CHAPTER 8
SADIE
“Bleib.”
Ruff!
“Bleib.”
Ruff!
“What the hell are you listening to?” Devin had once again caught me goofing off at work. “Is that German . . . and barking?”
I pressed the “Pause” button as fast as I could. I’d been watching another YouTube tutorial on German-language dog training. They were all I’d been watching lately whenever I had any spare time. In fact, German dog training had consumed me, to the point where last night I’d dreamed I was on trial for some crime, and the entire courtroom was filled with dogs shouting at me in German.
“No.” I shook my head and lied. “No German. I don’t know what you thought you heard.”
“No? What was it, then?”
There was no way I was getting out of this one.
I conceded. “Okay, it was.”
“I know it was . . . because my grandma Inga is German. Are you taking a trip soon?” She beamed at the prospect of my traveling abroad. “An international dating piece! I’d totally be down to be your assistant on that one!”
Devin had no clue about the mess I’d gotten myself into. But I was going to burst if I didn’t tell someone. If anyone would understand and not have me committed, it would be Devin. Only Devin.
“No international dating article.” I sighed. “But I have to tell you something, and you’d better sit down for this.”
Devin couldn’t even stand to sit anymore. She paced excitedly across the space between my cubicle and hers. “Oh my God. This is too good to be true.”
“It’s a mess is what it is! And it’s ending after this next visit.”
She stopped for a moment. “So you plan to play German dog trainer one more time and then what?”
I tapped my pen and blew out a long breath. “Then I have to come up with a way out of this.”
“Wait . . . what happened to the actual dog trainer?”
That’s the question of the year, isn’t it?
“I have no idea. That’s the other problem. As far as I know, Gretchen never showed up yesterday, but I have no idea why or if she’ll come back into the picture.”
“Let’s hope not.” She sighed. “This is fate, Sadie. The butterfly barrette, the fact that he opened the door right at that moment, the way the dog just listened to your asinine German instructions like you’re some kind of expert! This is your window in. Why give it up after one more visit?”
I couldn’t believe her suggestion, although I shouldn’t have found it surprising.
“My window into what, exactly, Devin? And don’t say Sebastian Maxwell’s bed.”
“I was actually going to say . . . your window into Birdie’s life. You can see her now, check in on her, and not have to make unattainable wishes come true while playing Santa Claus.” She paused, then smirked. “And it could potentially lead to amazing sex with Sebastian Maxwell, yes.”
I stood up from my seat. “One more time and I’m done, Devin. I mean it. I can’t lie to that little girl’s face. That’s the only thing worse than playing God from afar.”
“You’re not lying. That’s the beauty of this. You’re . . . you. You just also happen to be training that dog—in German. You are the dog trainer. You’re earning this. Who cares how you got there?”
“And my name is Gretchen? That’s not a lie?”
She shrugged. “Small detail.”
I pulled on my hair. “How do you say ‘fraud’ in Deutsch?”
It was a beautiful, sunny late-summer day on Eighty-Third Street. The perfect day for a picnic at the park or a stroll with a cup of coffee. There were a ton of things I could have been doing today—anything besides continuing this facade. But with my heart pounding, I made my way up the stairs of the Maxwell brownstone and proceeded to knock on the door.
From behind the door, I could hear Marmaduke’s paws scratching against the wood floor as he frantically raced to greet me.
When the door opened, there he was, immediately jumping all over me. Who had even opened the door? All I saw was him. It was as if he’d opened it to let me in himself.
I turned my cheek, trying to avoid getting slobber in my mouth. “Whoa. Sitz. Sitz.”
Apparently, he’d forgotten everything he learned last time. Sitz had done zilch to keep him from standing on his hind legs and attempting to french-kiss me.
“Come in,” Magdalene said from somewhere behind Marmaduke. “So sorry about his energy today. As you can see, he’s being very rambunctious, so it’s perfect timing for another lesson.”
I’d been expecting that Birdie would be waiting at the door like Magdalene had said she might, but there was no sign of her.
As Marmaduke trailed behind me, I followed Magdalene inside as I looked around in search of Birdie. Magdalene led me into the kitchen. My eyes eventually landed on Birdie’s blonde locks.
There she is.
She looked like she was hurrying to put something back into the cupboard. When she turned around, her cheeks were filled like a chipmunk’s.
“Are you alright?” Magdalene asked.
She nodded fast and mumbled with her mouth full. “Uh-huh.”
Did Magdalene not know what she was doing? Because it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Birdie had taken the opportunity of Magdalene going to answer the door to steal cookies. I laughed inwardly. My little cookie thief. She strikes again.
She turned around briefly with her back to us, and when she faced me again, her cheeks were hollow. She’d apparently swallowed the cookies. Now that I wasn’t distracted any longer by her cheeks, I really got a look into her beautiful baby blues. Birdie was a stunning little girl, and looking into the eyes of the kid who’d charmed my heart for so long from afar was truly surreal. I couldn’t stand to look into those eyes and lie to her. So I decided I would try my best to be as honest as possible under the circumstances.