The woman’s face lit up. I imagined it had to be hard being in another country where you weren’t totally fluent in the language. “Are these small little lap dogs?”
She shrugged. “Umm…they lap poodles. I don’t know size in English.”
They were so fluffy and the perfect size. The little white dog licked my hand. “May I pick him up?”
“Of course.”
I picked up the puppy and snuggled him. He was probably fifteen pounds or so. My heart instantly fell for the little bundle of fur. I was a goner. In an instant, I decided. “How much?”
“Six hundred.”
That was a lot of money. Snap decisions normally get you into trouble. The puppy licked me. His chocolate-brown eyes implored me. I had to have this puppy. “He is so cute. I think I must buy him and call him mine.”
She laughed. “He likes you very much.”
“I think so, too!”
I pulled out the money from my wallet—good thing I’d gotten a lot of cash before leaving for California. I handed her the six hundred dollars, and she gave me an envelope. “Papers. My daughter number on papers if you have question.”
“Thank you. I hope you enjoy your time here.”
“Thank you. I will.”
As I turned to leave, I saw Waldo walking toward me. Oh, now I had to overcome the next hurdle—get Waldo on board. He was a good guy. From what Kurt told me, Waldo was one of the few band managers who hadn’t been jaded from the industry.
Waldo was carrying four large bags. If all those were filled with ties, he needed an intervention. “Looks like we were both successful. You found the mother lode of ties. I got a puppy. Isn’t he cute?”
Waldo smiled. “I had no part in this.”
I stuck my hand out. “Deal.” Then I leaned in to whisper, “We need to make a quick stop at the pet store and get to the bus before Kurt gets out of his meeting. Come on. We gotta burn rubber.”
Waldo took his handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “This is going to be an interesting afternoon.”
We hurried to the car. “Live on the edge, Waldo. It’s more fun that way.”
He gave me a hearty chuckle. “What are you going to name him?”
“George. I think George is the perfect name.”
Chapter Seven
Sawyer
We pulled up to the parking lot outside of the building Kurt temporarily rented where a monstrous bus was parked. Well, it was larger than a bus. It was custom built for him and this tour. The band members’ faces were plastered across the sides. It was like my bedroom, but on wheels. Behind it were two smaller buses. Kurt had had them custom made to give the band more privacy.
“Wow, these are a lot bigger in real life.”
“Yeah, it’s like a home on wheels. Kurt’s is the first one. The rest of the band will travel in the second one. Additional staff in the third.”
When we’d come to LA, the buses were being worked on. I had only seen pictures, which hadn’t done them justice. I bit my lip and looked at the building. “Is Kurt still in the band meeting?”
Waldo checked his phone before wiping his forehead with his designer handkerchief—a nervous habit. “Let me check.” He typed a few things and waited for a response. “You’ve got ten to fifteen minutes.”
That wasn’t much time at all. We’d bought a lot of stuff at the pet store. My pulse picked up. “Okay, go keep him distracted until I can unload all of George’s shit in my room. I’m going to try to stow him away until we’re on the road. Then once we’re on the way, he’ll have no choice but to let me keep him.”
Waldo shook his head. “Good luck. I don’t think this is going to go too well.”
I beamed. “Me either. But George and I are a package deal.” Cuddling George closer, I said, “Look at this face. It’s too cute. And Kurt owes me.”