Page 5 of Doggy Style

Preston

“Preston!” Hugh, my business manager, yells at me from the showroom. “Get your ass out here. There’s some deranged chick handcuffed to the front of our store. She probably wants you to bone her.”

What the fuck?My stomach knots and I pray Kira didn’t hear Hugh’s shouting through the phone. “But you promised you’d go to the pet expo with me and then help me with the preparations for the grand opening. You’re so good with dogs,” I plead with her.

“Whatever, Preston. I agreed to help you before we broke up. It would be awkward now. I can’t go to Hawai’i with my ex.”

My chest tightens. I need this store to be successful. “I’m not trying to get back together with you. We weren’t right for each other. But you could still help me out—as a friend.”

She makes a noise that I can’t decipher as a laugh or a huff. “We’ll always be friends, but I don’t think us going to an area known for romantic getaways and working together is a great idea right now.”

But I need you.“Come on, Kira. You promised to help me. You can’t just flake on me two days before we’re supposed to go.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Besides, I’ve been asked to teach at a charity yoga event. I’m sure you can find someone else to go with you and also help to open your store. Maybe you can ask the girl handcuffed outside your front door.”

Great. She definitely heard.

“Really funny. Take care, Kira.”

“Bye, Pres.”

Dammit. I’m screwed. I don’t know anything about dogs. Hell, I don’t even own one, though I was close to Kira’s beagle, Lady. I loved that damn dog, but I haven’t seen Lady or Kira since we broke up a few months ago.

I knock back the rest of my beer, toss the bottle in the trash, and contemplate my options. I scroll through my Instagram like it’s LinkedIn and pray I can find someone I know who loves dogs. Maybe a pet groomer, or a sexy veterinarian, or a kickass dog trainer.

But it can’t be just anyone. I need a dog whisperer with a ton of followers, so I can get the word out about my business and hopefully impress investors and vendors at the expo. Someone who’s interesting, smart, and cool, since I’ll have to travel and work with her. I don’t want to be stuck with some vapid, materialistic woman. I suppose I could hire a man, but I’m already working with Hugh, so it’d be nice to have some feminine energy around the shop.

Should I post an ad? Contact some friends to see if they know anyone?

I’m a leader, decisive in every aspect of my life. For once, I have no idea what to do about this mess.

But for now, I have to take care of the situation outside.

Damn these groupies.

Don’t get me wrong—I appreciate their attention, and I’m grateful for their support, but being a social media superstar is just as much of a blessing as it is a curse. The worst part about the overexposure is that I never know anymore if a woman likes me for who I am or if she’s just using me to grow her own following.

I miss the art of seduction and the anticipation of a new relationship. That initial spark when I first see a woman I want. Flirty banter while I’m pursuing her. Planning a romantic first date. The anticipation before the first kiss, then ultimately seducing her. I love the chase, the hunt. Everything is too easy these days. With a swipe right, I can get laid in twenty minutes without even having to work for it.

I emerge from the back and walk into the main showroom of our new store, Doggy Style.

If someone had told me three years ago when I was still a grunt in the Marine Corps that I would someday become the star of a sex video and end up pimping puppies as a result, I never would’ve believed it. But I suppose one could say my life has gone to the dogs. The video that Kira broadcast of me fucking her went viral.

At first, I’d been furious with her. Not that I was embarrassed. Fuck no. I’m a beast in the bedroom.

Or on the floor.

Or, like in the video, over a table.

But I knew the footage would make it a struggle to obtain future sponsorships for any business endeavor I chose to pursue. And since the tape was released, this has proved true. Sure, the entertainment industry embraced me, but serious business investors have refused to take my calls.

And my father won’t even speak to me.

Even so, that video changed my life. And so I’m rolling with it. My line of Doggy Style t-shirts and merchandise has blown up. I’m making a killing. Opening this store is the next part of my plan to build an empire.

I pause and take in the space, which already looks awesome. Doggy couture hangs on the racks, sparkly collars are displayed in cases, and pet art decorates the walls.

But the highlight of Doggy Style is our puppies.