“Ain't Too Proud to Beg”

Excerpt from “Ain't Too Proud to Beg” © Susan Donovan, 2009

Celestial Pet Superstores, Inc., was headquartered just outside Berkeley in a two-story office complex made of mirrored glass and shiny steel. A three-dimensional corporate logo hung over the entrance, big as a tractor-trailer. It was a globe orbited by cats, dogs, birds, fish, and small rodents that could have been either guinea pigs or gerbils, it was anybody’s call. Josie entered, but before she could make it across the marble lobby, a security guard with a badge and gun headed her off. He inquired about her business.

“I’ve come to see Mr. Rousseau.”

The guard’s bushy eyebrows knit together. “Do you have an appointment?”

“In a way.”

He chuckled. “What kind of way would that be?”

“Uhm . . . ” Josie began to question her plan. Maybe she should have just phoned. But you can’t show off a kick-ass makeover over the phone, now can you? “Rick said he’d call me, but never did.”

The guard looked at her quizzically. “So you’re a stalker?”

“No, I’m a reporter.”

Wrong answer. He marched over to the security desk and dialed up the public relations department. He checked Josie’s press ID and her driver’s license, made her sign a visitor log, clipped a temporary badge to the strap of her bag, and gave her directions.

She took the elevator but skipped the PR office entirely and headed toward a set of unmarked glass doors that screamed executive suite. The reception area inside was empty so she headed down an interior hallway. A huge man nearly crashed into her.

“May I help you?” His eyes darted to her visitor’s badge.

Josie looked up, up, and up some more. Huge really didn’t cover it. The guy was a giant. Close to seven feet tall. Blackest of black skin. Shiny bald head. A diamond stud the size of a blueberry in his right ear.

“Rick Rousseau, please,” she croaked.

The man stiffened, like he was alarmed by her request. “I’m afraid he’s unavailable. How did you get in here?”

“May I speak to his secretary?”

“That would be me.”

She laughed. She didn’t mean to be rude, and she knew it was well into the 21st Century and there was no such thing as “typical” anymore, but she’d never seen a secretary of his proportions. “I just need a moment of his time,” she said, composing herself.

“That’s not going to be possi – . ”

A big mahogany door opened and out stepped Rick, focused on a stack of papers in his hand. He wore a pair of olive green hiking shorts – the kind with a hundred pockets – running shoes without socks, and a Barenaked Ladies concert T-shirt. His hair had grown a little longer, and he hadn’t shaved.

God, the man was even hotter than she remembered.

“Hi, Rick.” Josie peeked around the freakishly large secretary who’d just blocked her approach.

Rick’s head snapped up, and he blinked at her with those ocean-green eyes. She watched as he flipped through his mental Rolodex in an attempt to recall who she was and why in the world she was standing in his hallway. She was about to help him but it turned out not to be necessary.

“Josie,” he said, shifting from a look of surprise to outright curiosity. “Your hair is styled differently. And I can see you didn’t sleep on the sidewalk last night.”

“Nope. I’ve been sleeping indoors lately. And yes, my hair’s different.”

“I like it. A lot.”

She touched the curls that now just grazed her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“How’s Genghis?”

“Great. He sends his regards.”

At that point, Rick nodded to the big man, who immediately stepped aside, accepting the stack of papers from Rick’s hand. There was a flash of something in Rick’s eyes when he first saw Josie from head to toe. It looked like appreciation, but it disappeared instantly.

“Teeny Worrell, this is Josephine Sheehan, a devoted Celestial Pet customer. Josie, you’ve already met Teeny.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Sheehan,” Teeny said, extending his humongous hand for a shake.

“The pleasure’s mine, Mr. Worrell.” Her hand disappeared in the secretary’s grip.

“Why don’t you walk with me?” Rick placed his free hand at the small of Josie’s back and turned her toward the reception area. She stole a glance back at the extra-large Teeny, who was shaking his head.

“So,” Rick said cheerfully, “Do you invade the workplace of every guy you invite for coffee?” He held the glass doors open like a gentleman. An angry gentleman.

“I don’t know – do you always promise women that you’ll call but never do?”

He raised one dark brown eyebrow and looked down her. They’d stopped walking and stood very close in the elevator lobby. His hand slid from the center of her back to her hip, where it lingered. Chills raced up her spine, and that weird energy was back – Josie’s body was flooded with it.

“Something came up on the East Coast.” He studied Josie’s cheeks, her chin, her lips, and then locked his eyes on hers, intense and somber. “For the record, I don’t usually go back on my word.”

“Fine. Also for the record, you’re only the second man I ever asked on a date in my whole life and the first I ever tracked down at his place of employment, so it looks like it’s near-virgin territory all around.”

They glared at each other for a moment. Eventually, Josie shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I think this whole thing was a mistake.” She took a step back and his hand fell away from her hip. She immediately regretted the move and wanted to slap it right back on her butt, but figured it would be awkward to orchestrate.

He cocked his head and asked, “A mistake? Why?”

“Because I went to the store to find out why the handsome dog groomer blew me off, only to discover you’re the employer, not the employee.”

A faint smile appeared on his lips. “Does that matter?”

“I guess not.”

“Then where’s the mistake?”

“Look, I convinced myself there was something special about you. It’s a long story. But the bottom line is I was trying to be more proactive about the whole dating thing and it seems I got carried away.”

One of Rick’s eyes squinted.

“Well, take care.” She turned toward the elevator but stopped, thinking she couldn’t end things so rudely. “No hard feelings, OK? I’ll still shop at Celestial Pet. I get all my dog toys there. And now I have the free groomings!” She forced a smile. “Goodbye.”

Rick rubbed his beard stubble, obviously trying to hide a smile. “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Out of curiosity, could you please describe Josephine Sheehan’s usual approach to dating? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep at night unless I know.”

She caught the sarcasm in his voice, but it was a legitimate question, and Josie had to think through her answer. She recalled what Bea had said about her lack of initiative and standards. “I never had an approach before you.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded with certainty. “Yep. But I took one look at you that day at the grooming salon and I said to myself, ‘Make it happen, girl, or you’ll always regret it.’ But like I said, I think I just got carried away.”

A shadow passed across Rick’s eyes. “Please accept my apology for not calling you.”

She shrugged. “It’s OK.”

“No, it’s really not, Josie.” His voice softened and he reached for her hand, cupping it gently. “Never accept that kind of bullshit from a man – ever. You deserve better. Every woman does.”

She laughed. “Well, aren’t you gallant!”

His expression narrowed and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. “I try my best not to hurt anyone, that’s all.” A look of puzzlement came over him. “What’s wrong with your eyelids?”

Inside, Josie had curled up into a fetal position and wished to die. Outside, she sported a carefree smile. “Allergies.”

Rick studied her cautiously. “Well, Miss Sheehan, how can I make this up to you?”

Josie’s eyes got big, her lips parted, and her mind began spinning with possibilities. A cup of coffee now seemed way too humdrum a request for such a charming and courteous pet supply tycoon. Her imagination jumped around from a jaunt to Cabo aboard his corporate jet, to a weekend in wine country, to introducing him to her parents while on a private cruise down the Nile. But instead, she went for something really outlandish.

“You could start with a kiss.” My God, where was all this bravado coming from?

He tugged on her hand until she bumped up against his body – full-frontal contact! Her thighs tingled. She got a head rush to end all head rushes. She raised a hand to his rough cheek. His gaze went directly to her mouth.

That’s the moment he leaned in, angled his head, and the elevator binged. Three uniformed men burst through the door with their guns pointed at Josie’s head. “Got her,” one of them said into a radio clipped to his shirt.

She thought she’d pee herself.

“Stand down! Now!” Rick blocked her with his body. She hooked her arms around his waist and ducked. “She’s not a security matter,” he said. “She’s a friend.”

Josie’s legs really did collapse at that point. She began hyperventilating at the idea that real guns with real bullets were pointed at her. Since when was she a security risk everywhere she went? Was it her makeover? Rick reached behind him and steadied her, preventing her from collapsing to the Berber carpet.

The guards holstered their guns, but Josie’s buddy from the lobby didn’t sound happy about it.

“Mr. Rousseau, sir, she was supposed to go to public relations. When she didn’t show, I knew I had to stop her before she found a way to get to you.”

Rick chuckled. He pulled Josie around and hoisted her up by her armpits. “Too late for that, I’m afraid.”

Josie gazed up at him. He anointed her with a smile. She wanted to smile in return, but she was so nauseous from the adrenaline crash she decided not to risk it.

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