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“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Vesta as she watched Dallas stare at Shelley, open-mouthed as if he’d never seen a pretty girl before. “Better close that trap or you’ll catch flies,” she told him, but of course he didn’t understand a word she said. She was starting to regret bringing this particular billionaire home with her. Tough to communicate if he only spoke Finnish—or at least that’s what she assumed those garbled guttural tones that sometimes fell from his tongue when he talked into his phone were—and she only spoke English.

She’d hoped the language of love would see them through but there had been none of that either. At first she’d thought he was simply shy, but now she was starting to think he was one of those eunuchs. Or was it unicorns? She never knew which was which.

At least he wasn’t married—or at least she didn’t think he was. No mention of a Mrs. Dallas de Prav? had ever been made, and when she googled the guy she hadn’t found any evidence of a marital entanglement either. Like her, he was widowed with two kids, both now already with kids themselves. All of them had funny names like Jarmo and Eeto and Arvo and reportedly the de Prav?s were amongst the richest families in Finland.

A young kid walked in, looking as youthful and fresh-faced as Shelley, and the latter said,“Can you get Windex ready, Gavin? Mrs. Muffin is taking her home with her.”

The kid stared at her.“Mrs. Muffin?” he said finally. “Vesta Muffin?”

“That’s my name—don’t wear it out,” she quipped.

The kid’s eyes swiveled from her to the picture of her that hung next to the ‘Vesta Muffin Animal Shelter’ sign behind the counter and he blinked, then a smile spread across his freckled face. “It’s an honor, Mrs. Muffin. You did a great thing starting this shelter.”

She would have told the kid who was probably all of nineteen that she hadn’t exactly started the shelter, merely given her name to it, but who was she to deprive this young man of this honest pleasure. “I feel it’s important we all do what we can to give our furry little friends a better life… Gavin, is it?”

He nodded fervently.“Gavin Blemish. And you’re absolutely right, Mrs. Muffin.”

“Blemish, as in Garwen Blemish?”

“Yeah, he’s my dad.”

“I always buy my shoes there. Great place.”

“Best place in town,” he said, and flashed her a toothy smile. Perfect white teeth, of course, she couldn’t help but notice with a small measure of chagrin. “Next time you come in I’ll make sure you get a discount, Mrs. Muffin.”

“Oh, so you work there, do you?”

“Yeah, I’m only volunteering here,” he said with a slight diminution of happiness. “Though I’d love to work here full-time,” he added, eyeing her with a look of hope as if she was made of money and he wouldn’t mind having some. “I absolutely adore our animals.”

“Uh-huh. More than shoes, you mean?”

“Oh, absolutely. I mean, shoes are fine, but animals—well, they need us, don’t they?”

“Same here,” said Shelley.

“So where do you work, Shelley?” asked Vesta, who wondered if these two were boyfriend and girlfriend. They looked as if they might be.

“I work for my dad, actually. He runs Eccleston Concrete. It’s a cement factory,” she explained. “I work in the office. But I spend as much time here at your shelter as I can.”

She would have dissuaded them from the notion that she actually owned the shelter but they were both gazing at her with such abject admiration that she didn’t have the heart. “Well, you’re both doing a great job here,” she said. “And I can only thank you and tell you to keep up the good work.”

She glanced over to Dallas, who was now eyeing a chart that offered an overview of the different species of dogs that are out there, and was mouthing their names to himself. If she ever managed to talk to the guy, and convince him to invest in the shelter, maybe Marsella could offer both Shelley and Gavin an actual contract.

Then again, who was she kidding? She’d seen the numbers. There simply wasn’t enough work for three full-timers. So she merely smiled encouragingly at the two young people and watched them return to work—getting little Windex ready for his new home.

Chapter 3

Once Vesta and her companion had left, the warm sensation of accomplishment that had briefly swept through Marsella quickly dissipated, and the cloud of dread that had been hanging over her all week made a sudden comeback, like it always did. Gavin had gone to clean out the gerbil cages and now it was just Marsella and Shelley.

Shelley must have noticed something, for she suddenly said,“Is everything all right?”

She could have lied and told her everything was fine, but Shelley was no fool. Plus, in the months they’d known each other they’d become great friends. Which was odd, since she could have been Shelley’s mom, but Shelley was such a warmhearted person and so easy to talk to it wasn’t hard to see why she’d become increasingly fond of the young woman.