EXCERPT

 FALLING FOR THE UNDERDOG

A Rescue Dog Romance Book Two

CHAPTER ONE

Doggy Style

Fur flew under Addison Turner’s skilled touch as though she were Edward Scissorhands, sculpting purebred pooches into masterpieces. Her current muse came in the form of a fluffy bichon frise named Elvis. Unfortunately, his hair clippings stuck to the glittering details of her black sequined dress—not exactly the come-hither look she was going for.

Frowning, she assessed the state of her cocktail dress, picking at the tufts of fur that clung to it. It wasn’t the most sensible uniform for grooming dogs, but tonight was special. It was a cocktail mixer that kicked off the two-week-long parade of events leading up to the Western Dog Show—and Addison had a VIP backstage pass to promote her dog-styling business.

However, a good PR campaign wasn’t the only reason she’d been looking forward to the dog show. She also wanted to build a few “personal relations” of her own. Tonight was the night she was going to meet her Prince Charming.

Addison’s assistant, Melody, finished cutting the last of Elvis’s nails and noticed the wardrobe mishap. “Oh, no. Your dress. How are you going to hook your man now?”

“It’s okay.” Addison winked. “I can make anything look good. Even dog hair.”

Melody grabbed a brush and worked the excess hair out of Elvis’s coat. “You keep talking about this perfect guy, but I don’t think you’ve told me his name.”

“That’s because I don’t know it … yet,” Addison replied. But he was out there; she could feel it. If only she could get a free moment to go meet him.

The mixer was being held in the grand ballroom of the historic Regency Center on Sutter Street. The neoclassical surroundings created the perfect romantic ambiance for the elite dog-lovers of San Francisco to rub elbows, not to mention size up the competition before the dog show in two weeks’ time.

Addison sighed just thinking about it. The glitz, the glamor, the extravagance, the beauty. Nobody showered their four-legged friends with more affection and luxury than hopeful winners of the coveted Best in Show award. Now that was a client list she wanted to tap into. She was going to be the Coco Chanel of the four-legged world, and the next two weeks were going to make her or break her.

Unfortunately, she was stuck behind the scenes. Literally. She’d been allotted the ballroom’s built-in stage to set up her portable grooming station and pamper the party’s furry guests. While that should have allowed her the best view of the event, the stage curtains had been closed. Apparently, a guest had complained. Maybe they didn’t enjoy witnessing all the hard work being done while they enjoyed their escargot and champagne.

As Addison trimmed around the dog’s face, her normally steady hand shook. Not with nerves, but irritation. Elvis’s owner, Kitty Carlisle, hovered nearby. She twitched with each clip of the scissors, as though Addison was going to accidentally slip and cut a jugular vein.

Kitty paced across the stage behind the curtain. Twelve pairs of canine eyes watched the woman’s anxious movements with interest. Addison already had a full array of clients lounging on colorful embroidered pillows, all in various stages of her patented Pampered Puppies Program. She’d given them puppy pawdicures, Shih-Tzu shiatsus, bowwow baths and brushes, and hound hydrotherapy, all free of charge to create buzz.

Kitty flinched again and tensed. She looked ready to lunge for Elvis.

“Mrs. Carlisle,” Addison addressed the nervous woman. “Are you certain you wouldn’t feel more comfortable out in the ballroom, enjoying the cocktail mixer?”

The older woman stiffly shook her head. Not a single lacquered white hair stirred. “I’m perfectly fine here with Elvis.” She cringed as though Melody’s brush was going to grow teeth and bite her dog. “You just never know who you can trust during competition season.” Her pug-like eyes bulged conspiratorially.

Addison bristled at the comment. Surely Kitty wasn’t suggesting that Addison would do anything to risk a show dog’s chances. That would mean the death of her business before it even had the opportunity to take off. She was only just beginning to break into the niche show dog market.

One last snip of the scissors and Elvis’s traditional show cut was complete. His head looked like what Addison could only describe as a ball of white cotton candy. Two black eyes blinked out from the sphere of fur. It mirrored Kitty’s ’60s beehive hairstyle almost perfectly. Or perhaps Kitty modeled herself after her dog.

For the pièce de résistance, Addison fastened a formal bow tie and tuxedo collar with a hidden metal leashing ring—one of her own creations—around Elvis’s neck. Fashion, meet function, Addison thought.

Wiping away the mounds of white, feathery fur, Addison unclipped Elvis from the grooming arm above the table. She stood back and held out her arms in a “ta-da” gesture to display Kitty’s dog. “What do you think?”

Kitty reached out and straightened the bow tie. “How charming.”

Was that an actual smile? Addison felt giddy, like she was on an ice cream high.

“It’s part of my premier fashion line for four-legged fashionistas. It’s called Fido Fashion.” Addison whipped out a sparkly pink flyer and held it up. “I’m launching the line on the same weekend as the dog show. You and Elvis should come check it out. In fact, I’m still looking for volunteers to model the designs. Maybe Elvis would like to be involved.” She gave Kitty a hopeful smile, trying her best not to come off as a desperate salesperson.

Kitty clung to Elvis like a mother on her kid’s first day of school. “I don’t know …”

“He’ll get to keep any outfits he models,” Addison offered.

Biting her lip, Kitty took the flyer. “I’ll think about it.”

She cradled Elvis to her chest and whisked him across the stage. His black eyes bored into Addison over Kitty’s shoulder like something out of a horror flick. Addison shivered as they ducked through the heavy stage curtains to the main ballroom.

When the thick drapes parted, classic jazz music punctuated by the clink of glasses and the murmur of voices drifted into Addison’s workspace. She peeked through a gap. Men in tuxes and women in beautiful cocktail dresses danced across the blond hardwood floor, flirted on opulent camelback sofas, and showed off their sure-to-win purebreds near the cocktail bar.

It was all so perfect, just like Addison’s life. Her business was doing well enough that she could afford to hire an assistant, and she was about to launch her new fashion line. Everything was unfolding like a Hollywood blockbuster movie, except for one thing: her leading man had yet to be cast.

Okay, so she was more like the makeup artist than the leading lady, but after the fashion show turned out to be a hit and her business reached a whole new level of success, that would all change. It was time for her Cinderella story to begin.

Addison could feel the clock run down as she hid behind the scenes. She’d been so busy that she hadn’t had a chance to enjoy the evening herself.

Maybe I could slip away for a little while, she thought.

She glanced back at the work left to be done. Equipment awaited dismantling, furry floors required sweeping, restless dogs needed arranging for the big reveal at ten o’clock. That’s when she noticed her own object of affection saunter across the stage: a beautiful, long-haired cream dachshund.

Like a movie star, the doxie strode imperiously down the length of red carpet rolled across the stage to join the lineup of other stars. Her beaded flapper-girl dress glittered beneath the lights.

As the doxie passed each dog show contender, she eyed up the competition. Her ample chest swelled with confidence—which said much about her belief in her own beauty, as these pups were the crème de la crème of the western United States.

Finding her adversaries wanting, the beautiful blonde huffed. With a flick of her long, wavy locks, she returned to her pink velvet pillow that had been embroidered with her name in gold: Princess.

Addison walked over and scratched Princess behind the ears. “What do you think of our customers? Do they pass your rigid beauty inspection?”

Princess yawned, unimpressed.

“Of course, they don’t even come close to your caliber, your highness.” Addison gave her a little bow. “You don’t need to compete in the dog show. We already know you’re the best.”

“Woof,” Princess agreed, then bestowed a lick upon Addison’s hand. You have pleased us.

Addison didn’t mention the real reason she wouldn’t enter Princess in the show. Despite deserving every award there was, she would sadly lose.

An angular limb deformity had left Princess with one leg shorter than the rest. It had devastated her previous owner to discover his precious Princess would never be able to compete in a conformation show. Devastated him so much it seemed he couldn’t even look at her. Instead, he’d dropped off Princess at a shelter.

Addison recalled the day she’d met Princess at the San Francisco Dachshund Rescue Center, where she volunteered regularly. Maybe the limb that made the doxie a little different was why she’d felt an instant connection with the abandoned show dog. It meant they had something in common. Only, Addison’s so-called imperfection couldn’t be seen by the naked eye. No one could guess what hid beneath all that perfect makeup, hair, and stylish outfits.

But beauty was only skin deep. It was what was on the inside that mattered. While Princess would never reach the pinnacle of pooch perfection sought after by dog show enthusiasts, she was number one in Addison’s heart.

Now, if only Addison could find that special someone who saw her the same way. Preferably one with two legs.

Addison scanned the collection of aspiring champions lined up on the stage, all pampered and ready to show off. She gave a nod of approval. “I think they look pretty good.”

“Good?” Melody asked. “They look amazing! Everything’s perfect.” She gave Addison a reassuring smile. “You’ve outdone yourself tonight. Once the curtains open at ten o’clock and everyone sees your talents, they’ll be scrambling to come to your fashion show.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

A Pekingese named King Winky Von Rainbow Valley, or Kingy for short, was wandering around Addison’s supply bag. He’d obviously sniffed out her treat stash. Plucking him up into her arms, she carried him back to his pillow and snuck him a treat.

“Don’t tell the others, okay?” she told him.

She fluffed the ascot around his neck. The orange koi embroidered onto the silk accented his royal blue velvet smoking jacket perfectly.

Addison picked up a half-inch barrel curling iron, ready to get started on a silky terrier’s bangs.

Melody stopped her with a look. “Back away from the curling iron. Everything is ready for the reveal. Just go out there already and advertise a little, promote, rub elbows, and enjoy yourself.”

Addison looked around at all the equipment again. “But there’s still so much to clean up.”

“I’ll get the stage ready for ten o’clock. Don’t worry.” Melody waved Addison away. “You need people to put a face to your infamous name and your work. Now go.”

Addison sighed and put down the iron. “You’re right. Thanks.”

After checking on a Maltese whose Rainbow Frenzy nail polish was drying, Addison brushed the dog hair from her dress. She grabbed the leash belonging to a pinscher named Rosie and clipped it to the new collar fastened around the dog’s neck.

The piece was designed to look like a gold and ruby necklace. Addison had created it for the pricier end of her line; each item was made with quality gemstones and even had a GPS tracking chip hidden within. More importantly, the collar was a showstopper piece that she knew would blow Rosie’s hot owner away.

As Addison prepared to make her debut, Princess pranced over, ready to shake her tail on the dance floor.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t leave you behind,” Addison told the doxie. “Are you ready to go make some friends?”

In response, Princess spun in a circle, already getting her groove on. Let’s get jiggy with it.

Addison fastened Princess’s lead to her Art Deco pearl collar and waved to Melody. “I’m going to return Rosie to her owner.”

“Good luck. I hope he likes it.” Melody gave Addison a wink that told her she didn’t mean the grooming they’d done on his pinscher.

“Who wouldn’t?” Addison threw her friend a flirtatious smile. She checked her hair in one of the mirrors placed around their makeshift salon, ensuring it was perfect, then whipped the thick curtains aside.

The moment Addison emerged, expensive perfume replaced the smell of wet dog. The sounds of barking faded beneath the calming clarity of classic jazz floating over from the band in the far corner. From high above, teardrop chandeliers cast a warm glow on the guests circulating around the ballroom.

She felt like Alice passing through the looking glass. It was an entirely different world. Sure, it wasn’t a singles mixer, but it was still a social event—something she hadn’t seen much of since opening up shop two years earlier. Finally, a chance to find her Prince Charming, a part of the happily ever after she’d been dreaming about since she was a little girl.

She descended the stage stairs like Cinderella at the ball, escorting Rosie and Princess. The dogs strutted with confidence, owning the room. Only, Princess’s stride had the slightest hiccup, a little limp that you’d notice only if you were really paying attention. Addison liked to think of it as a swagger.

With the lights dimmed, hundreds of candles around the room set the mood. Their flickering glow reflected off the gilded wall décor, champagne glasses, diamonds caressing throats, gold watches, and her own dazzling sequined dress. The ambiance, the energy, the allure. It was all so romantic, a real fairy tale. The perfect place to meet her Prince Charming.

Addison’s eyes cast over show dog owners and event supporters sipping their martinis and pinot grigio in search of Rex Harrison, Rosie’s owner. She spotted him at the bar in the center of the room.

Hair fashionably coiffed, body svelte in his three-piece suit, Rex leaned against the bar. He watched the room with a confident ease as he sipped his drink. Whiskey, maybe. No. A martini. Just like James Bond. Yes, he looked exactly like the secret agent—Pierce Brosnan style.

Ooh, Addison liked that. Two thumbs up.

When Rex spotted her slinking toward him, his eyes drifted down the length of her curvy body with appreciation. Well … she thought so until his eyes didn’t roam back up. They remained fixed on Rosie.

Ouch.

Second-guessing herself, Addison glanced down at her dress with its sleek black lines and revealing—though, not too revealing—neckline. There was a fine line between saying, “I’m your one” and “I’m your one-night stand.” But when she noticed the tall, dark, and sexy bartender flash her a lingering look over the bottles of top-shelf liquor, she knew it wasn’t the dress’s fault.

She flashed the bartender a smile.Definitely an option, she thought. Maybe she’d stick around for a drink. Then he returned the smile—or ten. Drawing herself up, she headed over to meet her new prince.