Page 2 of The Mr. Right Checklist

“I get that, but you could—”

“Rubes,” I warn. Ruby is as organized and efficient as I am a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. She would be a great resource for all things business related, but she’d take over without even trying. It’s just the way she is, bless her heart. I adore her, but she’d drive me crazy, wanting everything meticulously planned out to the nth degree five years into the future, like she’s done with Perfect Paws. Our friendship is too important to me to risk ruining it over this. Plus, she and John are trying to get pregnant, and it has been a heartbreaking few months for them. She doesn’t need added stress.

“Fine,” she relents. “I’ll zip it about that, but you do realize you’ll have to gussy up for potential clients, right?”

“Why? You don’t think they’ll hire me if I show up covered in pet fur?” My words drip with sarcasm as I glance in the mirror at my cuffed jeans, yellow socks with colorful paw prints on them, and dirty-blond hair that I swear has a mind of its own. It’s in a ponytail right now, but there are wayward strands poking out everywhere, like I walked through a wind tunnel. I don’t know how that happens when I’ve been indoors this whole time, but it always seems to, and my pink sneakers have definitely seen better days.

“I’d hire you, but not everyone loves fur babies.”

“You’re right. I’m not looking forward to that aspect of the business, but I’m still my mama’s daughter at heart. I can be a pretty, proper Southern belle when necessary.”

“You’re always pretty, but proper? Well . . .”

We laugh. I can be unfiltered and outlandish, but I like who I am and so does Ruby, and that’s all I need.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asks as we groom the dogs.

“I have a few things to do for the event, but they shouldn’t take too long. Beyond that, I don’t know yet. Why? Do you want to hang out?”

“I was just curious. Sorry, but I can’t hang out. I will be busy having wild, dirty, hopefully baby-making sex with my husband.”

“I’m jealous.” I can’t remember the last time I had sex, and it wasn’t with someone who loved me like John loves Ruby. According to Ruby, that brings sex to a whole new level.

“You want to have sex with John?” she asks with a tease in her voice.

“No. Gross. He’s yours.”

“Did you just call my husband gross?”

“I didn’t mean he’s gross. It’s just that he’s yours, and that’s sacred. Besides, he’s not my type.”

“You mean he doesn’t meet all the ridiculous items on your Mr. Right Checklist? What a surprise. No man alive can live up to all that.”

“What can I say? I know what I like, and it’s not organized and careful Ken dolls. I’m more of a G.I. Joe girl. I’m into rugged, dark, and spontaneous guys who roll with the punches and are comfortable in any situation and can fix anything.”

“I know. No highfalutin egos for you, and you would kick Chris Pine or Ryan Gosling out of bed for their hair color alone, which I think is nuts. They’re my hall passes.”

“Yes, you’ve made John and me well aware of that.”

We continue chatting while I finish grooming Molly. When I’m done, I grab the box of bows. “Okay, Mol, your daddy is going to be here any minute. What color should we go for today?” I hold up the box, and Molly sniffs a pink bow. “A girl after my own heart. Maybe pink will get a smile out of your grumpy daddy.” I pluck two pink bows from the box.

“Fletch isn’t grumpy.”

“Who’s Fletch?” I ask as I put the first bow in Molly’s hair.

Ruby’s brows shoot up. “Molly’s owner . . . ?”

“Why do you say it like I should know his name? Nobody calls him that. Even Laura calls him Molly’s dad.”

“Whatever. He’s not grumpy. He’s just reserved.”

“If you say so.” I pet Molly. “But I’m pretty sure this big, beautiful girl is the only one Stuffy Steve smiles for.” Molly pants happily.

Ruby laughs. “You’re a lost cause.”

“It’s not my fault Aloof Adam acts that way.”

The intercom on the wall buzzes, and Laura’s voice comes through. “Destiny, Molly’s dad is here.”