The Man Behind the Pinstripes

Becca’s gaze bounced between the two. “What do you mean?”

Caleb touched Gertie’s arm. “My grandmother is being melodramatic.”

Opening her eyes, Gertie pursed her lips. “I’m entitled to be a drama queen. You don’t want our pet products.”

No. No. No. If that was true, it would ruin … everything. Gertie wouldn’t go forward with the dog products without her company backing them. Becca forced herself to breathe. “I don’t understand.”

Gertie shook her head. “My grandson, the CEO, and his closed-minded cronies at my company believe our dog skin care line will devalue their brand.”

“That’s stupid and shortsighted,” Becca said.

Caleb eyed her as if she were the bounty, a half-eaten mouse or bird, left on the porch by an outdoor cat. “That’s quite an opinion for a … consultant.”

“Not for a dog consultant.” The words came out more harshly than Becca intended, but if she couldn’t change his mind she would be back to living in a singlewide behind Otto. Otto, her parents’ longtime trailer park manager, wore stiletto heels with his camouflage, and skinned squirrels for fun. “Do you know how much money is spent annually on pets?”

“Billions.”

“Over fifty billion dollars. Food and vet costs are the largest portion, but analysts project over four billion dollars are spent on pet services. That includes grooming. Gertie’s products are amazing. Better than anything on the market.”

Gertie nodded. “If only my dear husband were still around. He’d jump on this opportunity.”

“Gramps would agree with me.” Caleb frowned, not a sad one, more of a do-we-have-to-go-through-this-again frown. “Fair Face is not being shortsighted. We have a strategic plan.”

Becca forced herself not to slump. “So change your plan.”

“Where’d you get your MBA?” he asked.

Try AA degree. “I didn’t study business. I’m a certified veterinary technician, but my most valuable education came from The School of Hard Knocks.”

Aka the Idaho Women’s Correctional Center.

“As I explained to my grandmother, the decision about manufacturing the dog skin care line is out of my hands.”

Caleb’s polite tone surprised Becca, but provided no comfort. Not after she’d poured her heart and soul into the dog products. “If the decision was all yours?”

His hard, cold gaze locked on hers. “I still wouldn’t manufacture them.”

The words slammed into Becca like a fist to her jaw. She took a step back. But she couldn’t retreat. “How could you do this to your grandmother?”

Caleb opened his mouth to speak.

Gertie placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll help Becca understand.”

He muttered a thank-you.

“This decision is in the best interest of Fair Face.” Gertie sounded surprisingly calm. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t.

Becca had thought that things would be different this time. That she could be a part of something, something big and successful and special. That maybe, just maybe, dreams could come true.

She should have known better.

Things never worked out for girls—women—like Becca.

And never would.

CHAPTER TWO

A FEW MINUTES LATER, Becca stood where the grass met the patio, her heart in her throat and her back to Gertie and Caleb. Dogs panted with eagerness, waiting for the ball to be thrown again.

And again. And again.

Playing fetch kept Becca’s shoulders from sagging. She would much rather curl up in the kennel with the dogs than be here. Dogs gave her so much. Loyalty, companionship and most importantly love. Dogs loved unconditionally. They cared, no matter what. They accepted her for who she was without any explanations.

Unlike … people.

“Come sit with us,” Gertie said.

Us.

A sheen of sweat covered Becca’s skin from the warm temperature, but she shivered.

Caleb had multi-millions. Gertie had hundreds of millions. Becca had $8,428.

She didn’t want much—a roof over her head, a dog to call her own and the chance to prove herself as a professional handler. Not a lot to ask.

But those dreams had imploded thanks to Caleb Fairchild.

Becca didn’t want to spend another minute with the man.

She glanced back at her boss.

“Please, Becca.” Gertie’s words were drawn out with an undertone of a plea. Gertie might be more upset about Fair Face not wanting to take on her new products than she acted.

Becca whipped around. Forced a smile. Took a step onto the patio. “Sure, I’ll sit for a few minutes.”

Caleb was still standing, a tall, dream-crushing force she did not want to reckon with ever again.

Walking to the table, she didn’t acknowledge his presence. He didn’t deserve a second look or an “excuse me” as she passed.

Gertie had to be reeling, the same as Becca, after what he’d said.

I still wouldn’t manufacture them.

Becca’s blood boiled. But she couldn’t lose it.

She touched Gertie’s thin shoulder, not knowing how else to comfort her employer, her friend. The luxurious feel of silk beneath Becca’s palm would soon be a thing of the past. But it wasn’t the trappings of wealth she would miss. It was this amazing woman, the one who had almost made Becca believe anything was possible. Almost …