Page 43 of Pugs & Kisses
While she changed into jeans and a sweater, Bryson let the dogs into the backyard for a few minutes to handle their business.
They then got into her SUV and headed to the Garden District.
There weren’t any tables available at The Chicory House when they arrived, so they spent some time browsing the shelves at the Garden District Book Shop, one of her favorite bookstores.
“This place has a bar,” Bryson said. “How can you not love New Orleans?”
“Books and booze, always a winning combination,” Evie said.
After purchasing the latest Rachel Howzell Hall novel and convincing Bryson to try Maurice Carlos Ruffin, they managed to snag a table at the café. They ordered two chopped salads and two fresh-squeezed lemonades.
“Okay,” Evie said. “I already know what you’re going to say, but I’m going to tell you my plans anyway.”
“Oh shit,” Bryson said, setting down his fork. He ran a hand down his face. “What are you up to now?”
“Is that really fair?” Evie asked.
He stared at her with an arched brow.
“I’m doing it anyway,” Evie said. “But I wanted to give you the option to join me in helping to save The Sanctuary.”
“Is this Groundhog Day, because I’m pretty sure you’ve said those exact words to me before.”
“And I’m saying them again. I know we’ve made several attempts to save the rescue already. But—”
“But there comes a point when we have to accept that it cannot be saved. I know you don’t want to hear this—I hate even having to say it, Ev, but we reached that point this morning. We’re going to save those dogs, but The Sanctuary is beyond saving.”
“I think there’s still a chance,” she said.
He dropped his head back and sighed. “Does this involve buying a shit ton of lottery tickets, because that’s the only thing I can think of that would raise the kind of money that’s needed.”
“I have something better,” Evie said. She put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her fist. “I think we should throw a gala.”
Bryson’s brow arched. “A gala?”
“A puppy gala! Something grand, on the scale of the party my mom threw last night. We invite the same crowd, and we convince them to give tens of thousands of dollars to save The Sanctuary.”
Evie was prepared to argue her point, but she didn’t have to.
“This is as good an idea as anything else we could come up with,” Bryson said. “Rich people love to throw money around at stuff like this.” He lifted his shoulders. “I say we go for it.”
“Really? So, you’re on board?”
“Why the hell not? It’s a Hail Mary pass, but the reason teams take them is because they sometimes work.”
“Exactly!” Evie said. “Imagine how much we could raise if we did a silent auction that included a stay at Barkingham Palace? I know Ashanti would be all for it.” Evie clapped.
“Okay, we have to get going on this like yesterday. But I really think we can pull it off. Ridley has this friend in public relations, Dominique. She’s amazing.
A little bit scary, but amazing.” She pulled her phone from her pocket.
“I’ll text Rid right now so she can get the ball rolling. ”
Evie could barely contain her excitement as she and Bryson left The Chicory House.
They were going to do this. Whether they could raise enough to buy a new building remained to be seen, but knowing the crowd her mother associated with, she could almost guarantee they would raise enough to cover rent on one of the places she’d scoped out on her property search.
She and Bryson had just walked out onto Prytania Street and crossed at Washington Avenue, heading back to her car, when Evie heard, “Three times in less than twenty-four hours? Who would have thought?”
She turned to find Cameron and a slim blond woman—not the one he’d had in her bed—walking toward them. He was carrying foil in the shape of a swan, a signature of how leftovers were packaged at Commander’s Palace, one of the most famous restaurants in the city.
“One would think New Orleans was big enough to avoid these chance encounters,” Cameron said.
“Well, my parents’ anniversary party wasn’t really a chance encounter, was it?” Evie said. “You were an asshole for showing up there last night.”
“I was invited,” Cameron said. “But you’re right, it wasn’t a chance encounter. Neither was this morning. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“You took an oath to use your veterinary skills for the betterment of society,” Evie reminded him. “That’s what this morning was about.”
“Ev, let’s just go,” Bryson said, taking her by the wrist and giving her a gentle tug.
“It only took you eight years to finally scrape up my sloppy seconds, huh, partner?” Cameron asked.
“Excuse me—” Evie said.
“I knew you wanted to fuck her since we were back at LSU. At least you finally got your chance.”
That son of a bitch! Evie’s hand balled into a fist of its own accord.
“You’re just pissed that I won,” Bryson said.
Evie jerked her head back and looked up at him, but Bryson’s gaze was focused solely on Cameron. The piercing hatred in his eyes was unlike anything she’d seen in him.
“You won what I no longer wanted,” Cameron said.
“No,” Bryson sneered. He took a step closer. “I won everything, Cam. I have a more successful career than you have. I have more accolades than you have. And I have Evie. The only thing I don’t have is your daddy’s money, and I don’t need that because I have my own.
“I know it’s hard to imagine a scholarship kid from the bayou coming out on top, but that’s what happened. Do a comparison in any category, and I win them all.”
Cameron’s pale ivory skin had turned red. He didn’t speak, just spun around and walked away, not even bothering to see if the woman he was with had followed him.
Evie stared until he turned the corner, then looked up at Bryson, who was still glowering in Cameron’s direction. He finally looked at her.
“I don’t know how you stayed with that asshole for so long, Ev. Let’s get back to the dogs.”
Evie nodded, folded her arms across her chest, and continued on to her car.