“Oh, man, I know all about that,” Maya said, not seeming to realize that I’d violated a core interview technique. “Like, I only put up the flyers when one of my best employees quit because she decided to move to Seattle.” She took a long drink, then shook her head. “I think she’ll be back, though. Do you know how much it rains there?”
“So about the job,” I said, trying to steer us back to the reason we were both sitting there, which I was pretty certain was not to discuss weather in the Pacific Northwest.
“Right!” Maya said, sitting up straighter. “Of course. So I run a dog-walking and pet-sitting operation I started two years ago. It’s primarily me and my fiancé and one other employee, along with some people who fill in on an occasional basis.”
“Oh,” I said, nodding, feeling myself start to deflate. Not only did I not have any experience with animals, but I couldn’t imagine a single college being impressed that I’d walked dogs all summer.
“It’s hard work,” Maya said, her tone serious. “And it’s a lot of responsibility. People are entrusting their pets—members of their family—to our care. Do you have experience with animals?”
“Yes. In fact, a few days ago, I was . . . with a dog.” A second too late, I realized what I was doing. I didn’t even want this job, so why was I trying to impress her? “But—”
“As long as you like animals and are good with them, everything else can be learned,” she said, giving me another big smile. “Just like anything in life.” She looked down at her watch, then back up at me. “I’m actually going to pick up some dogs for a walk now. Want to come along? You can see if the job’s for you.”
I hesitated. This was not the job for me. It was even a step below what I’d been thinking I might have to sink to, which was seeing if Flask was hiring baristas. This would be outside, with no air-conditioning, and I had a feeling it would involve dealing with a lot of crap, both literal and figurative. And what was worse, I would have nothing to show for it when the summer was over. Also, I was wearing one of my best dresses and four-inch heels. I was supposed to walk a dog in this?
“Unless you have somewhere to be?” Maya asked, raising an eyebrow.
And maybe that’s what did it. The fact that I had nowhere to be, no plans, no structure to my summer whatsoever. Maybe it was that even though I knew, rationally, I didn’t want this job, there was still a part of me that wanted to get it. For whatever reason, I found myself sitting up straight and looking her right in the eye. “I’m totally free,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
? ? ?
“All right!” Maya said cheerfully as she put her SUV in park and smiled at me. “You ready?”
“Um,” I said, with difficulty. There was a very large and fluffy dog on my lap. He had clambered into the front seat as soon as we’d picked him up, and he’d sat there the whole ride, shaking slightly, while I’d tried my best to see around him. He had to weigh at least seventy-five pounds, and at first Maya had tried to get him to move to the back, saying apologetically, “I think he’s just going to keep coming up, though. Jasper gets scared in cars, don’t you, buddy?” Jasper had whimpered then, like he could understand her, and I’d tentatively patted his fluffy black fur, feeling him trembling under my hands.
It wasn’t like I’d had a ton of time to focus on the fact that I was slowly losing feeling in my legs, either, because there were three other dogs in the back. We’d driven all over Stanwich picking them up, Maya keeping up a cheerful running commentary as we drove.
“So I have all the keys color-coded,” she said, holding up an enormous key ring, the top of each key painted a bright metallic color. “And we keep a log of all the pets—their habits, things to watch out for. It gets a little more complicated when it’s pet sitting, but that’s a different conversation. Also, sometimes we take groups out for longer hikes, or to the dog beach, but you wouldn’t be doing that right away, so don’t worry.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, trying my best to pay attention. But I was distracted by the fact that there were three dogs in the backseat, all of whom seemed to be staring at me. What was she supposed to do if one of them started freaking out or something? Wasn’t this a huge driving distraction? “So you normally do this on your own—just you in the car with four dogs?”
“Oh no,” she said easily, and I felt myself relax. “Usually it’s more like five or six.”
“What?” I asked, as Maya cut the engine and hopped out of the front door. Jasper seemed to realize this meant he no longer needed to be afraid, and he lumbered over me to climb into the back. I looked down at my lap and saw it was covered with dog hair and what looked suspiciously like drool. I shook my head, then got out of the car, brushing off my dress.
“Sometimes dogs get walked alone,” Maya said. “Dogs that don’t play well with others—and sometimes it’s down to scheduling. But Dave—that’s my fiancé—and I have a philosophy that dogs are social animals. They’re happiest when they’re with friends. Just like us.”
“Okay,” I said, even as I was pretty sure this was the opposite of okay. One dog seemed challenging enough. But six? I looked around and realized where I was—what I’d missed with my visibility blocked by Jasper. I was right back where I’d been two days ago, just a few streets over from where Dr. Rizzoli lived. I followed Maya around to the other side of the car, wobbling on my heels.