Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
I sighed. “Tatiana.”
“Yes?”
I crossed my arms and moved in closer to her as a deep, rough whisper escaped my lips. “Is there a dog in my restaurant?”
Her skin paled over like a ghost, and her lips trembled as her eyes flooded with tears. “Yes.”
“Tatiana.”
“Yes, Alex…?”
“Get the dog out of my restaurant!” I shouted, tossing my hands up in frustration.
“Yes, okay!” she cried out, her whole body shaking from panic. If I had a second to grasp what was happening, I would’ve felt bad for the way my voice vibrated through the space. Yet my mind struggled to figure out why she thought it was acceptable to allow an animal into my space.
“It’s just that…” She started, her words tripping off her tongue. “The dog is yours.”
I narrowed my eyes and placed my hands against my waist. “Excuse me?”
“The dog in the restaurant. It’s yours.”
“I heard you the first time, but your words don’t mean anything, seeing as how they are ridiculous. I would know if I had a dog. So if you’re done talking in riddles—”
“Your great-aunt Teresa sent him.”
I huffed and brushed my hand against my forehead as my brows knitted. “That’s a lie. My aunt Teresa is…” I paused. “Teresa sent him?”
Tatiana nodded. “Yes.”
“Tatiana.”
“Yes?”
“Stop crying.”
She blabbered like it was her own aunt who passed away.
“I can’t, but I’ll try.” She wiped her tears. “Your great-aunt Teresa left you a dog in her will. He’s here now. For you. The transport person is waiting for you in the lobby.”
Every inch of my body was filled with annoyance, confusion, and nerves.
No way did Teresa leave me a dog. Why in the world would she do that?
Being done with trying to get information from Tatiana, who was having an emotional fit, I marched through the restaurant toward the front lobby where a man stood with a tiny dog that had a muzzle on his face. That little thing was making all that fuss?
“Outside,” I ordered the man with a stern look. His eyes widened from the intensity of my demand, and he yanked the dog forcefully to the outside of the restaurant. I followed them as the dog aggressively growled at me and barked nonstop.
“You can’t bring that thing into my restaurant again. Take it back to wherever it came from,” I told the man.
“Mr. Ramírez—”
I waved my hand in front of him in a dismissive way. “Don’t give me your speech. If I don’t hear your speech, then I can pretend this never happened.”
“But it is happening, and your great-aunt Teresa entrusted you with this Pomeranian. His name is Feliz.” He held the leash out toward me.
As he said that word, I rolled my eyes. Of course my aunt would name the most aggressive-sounding dog Feliz—the Spanish word for happy. From the look of the fangs as it barked nonstop, muzzled and all, it was far from a happy dog.
I pushed the leash back toward him. “I don’t want it.”
“I don’t think you have a say in that.”
“It’s a free country. I don’t have to take on a dog if I don’t want it.”
“You do. And if you don’t want it, it’s up to you to surrender it to a shelter. Though, most of the shelters are sadly full as we move into the fall season, and Feliz might end up in a kill shelter.”
“Don’t play the pity card with me. You’d be surprised at my ability not to care,” I muttered.
“Look, dude. I’m just trying to do my job, all right?” The guy reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. “This is from Teresa. I’m supposed to deliver you this and Feliz. That’s it. So if you can take both and let me get on with my night, that would be great. I have to be in Kansas tomorrow to deliver another pet.”
I snatched the envelope from his grip and ripped it open.
My sweet, stubborn nephew who didn’t show up to my funeral,
Leave it to Teresa to be straight-forward and all-knowing.
Out of all humans, it’s no secret that you are my favorite, so I got you a friend. This is Feliz. He is to be to you what you were to me—your everything. Feliz might appear to be very much like you—stubborn. Hardheaded. Grumpy. Rough around the edges. But I’m sure he’s also like you, too, when a person gets to know him. Soft. Gentle. Kind. Caring. A best friend.
I couldn’t think of a better pairing. May you each soften one another.
Treat him well, and he’ll treat you well.
I love you, my favorite nephew.
Siempre,
Teresa.
After I finished reading the letter, I folded it up and grumbled under my breath. “Listen, I get that my sweet, great-aunt was a bit clueless about who I actually was but—” When I glanced up, I realized the guy who dropped off Feliz had darted for his car after he set down a bucket of Feliz’s supplies on top of his leash to hold the dog in place. “Hey!” I shouted, tossing my hand up in frustration. “Are you kidding me?!”