“He knows it, too. Has me wrapped around his little paw.”
I could see that Gizmo’s back legs were strapped into the wheelchair. “What happened to him?”
Laiken’s mouth thinned. “He was hit by a car. His owners didn’t want to deal with the hassle of his injury, so they dropped him at a shelter.”
“And you adopted him.”
“I like to think he adopted me.”
A swell of warmth rose in my chest for Laiken. Her choosing to adopt a dog with disabilities told me everything I needed to know about her. “He’s lucky to have you.”
“We’re lucky to have each other.”
My nose stung at her simple statement. I wanted to be part of a we, even if it was just with a little, furry creature. I made a vow to myself that I’d get a pet as soon as I had the money. “You are.”
I gave Gizmo one last scratch and pushed to my feet. “I should get going. It was nice to meet you.”
“Addie, wait.”
I paused halfway to the door, turning.
“I can teach you what you need to know. As long as you’re willing to show up on time and work hard, I’d like to have you here.”
“Why?” The question was out before I could stop it.
Laiken shrugged. “I have a good feeling about you.”
I clasped my hands in front of me, fingers interlocking. “I’m not good with people. I can get nervous—”
Laiken waved me off. “Another employee or I would be with you to start. You can handle the behind-the-scenes stuff—as long as you don’t mind some of the less glamorous bits of gallery work like crating pieces for shipping and cleaning.”
“Less glamorous sounds right up my alley.”
She studied me for a moment. “When can you start?”
“Tomorrow?”
Laiken laughed. “Give me two days to get you set up in our system, and then you can start. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.”
And just like that, I had my first real job.
I stirred the soup on the stove. It was one of my favorites. A recipe that my mom’s friend, Ginny, had passed to her, but one I had made mine. It had taken me almost a year to make the three-bean soup after Mom left. A little more than a year to return to the falls. I’d had to reclaim so many things for myself.
Part of that had been making the old new again. Like this veggie bean soup. I’d added caramelized onions and a cheese topping, giving it that perfect, salty-sweet taste.
A timer buzzed, and I grabbed the oven mitts from the counter. Pulling open the oven, the heavenly aroma of fresh sourdough hit me. I set the bread on the back stove burner to cool.
“What smells so amazing in here?”
My hand flew to my chest as I whirled around to see Beckett standing there. He was just a bit rumpled around the edges, his hair in disarray as if he’d been running his fingers through it all day, his button-down shirt untucked and full of wrinkles.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you would’ve heard my bike or the alarm beep.”
I should’ve heard it, but I’d been too lost in my thoughts, and the vent fan was on high. It was a reminder, though: I couldn’t afford to get distracted like that. “Not your fault.”
Beckett moved in slowly as if giving me plenty of time to retreat or tell him to back up. “It really does smell amazing. What is it?”