Fashion Faux Paw by Judi McCoy

was her gig. She’d been told by Jeffery that she had the final say on anything to do with the dogs, and NMD trusted her completely. She’d already been paid her exorbitant fee, so it was too late to fire her. Besides that, she doubted they’d find someone to take over her job at this late date.
    Feeling empowered by her thoughts, she took a seat and opened one of the fashion magazines she’d left on the snack table. A moment later, when she glanced at the floor, she saw shoes with spats and let her gaze wander upward.
    “Can I help you?” she asked politely.
    Mr. Fettel pulled his shoulders back. “What you can do is cooperate, young lady. I’ve been thrown into a position with which I’m uncomfortable, so please don’t take advantage of me.”
    “Aw, he’s askin’ so nice,” said Rudy, snorting.
    She closed the magazine. “I’m sorry you’re in an unappealing position right now, and here in the canine area we’re very understanding. Tell me what you need and I’ll try to comply.”
    He crossed his arms and let them rest on his paunch. “That’s a little more like it.”
    “Hey, don’t let him talk to you like that.”
    Biting back a snarky response, she smiled. “If you’d just get to your point . . .”
    “May I sit down?”
    Ellie set the magazine on the middle chair to make certain they’d be a few feet apart.
    He took the far chair and straightened his tie. “We have a problem, and I’m hoping you can help.”
    “A problem?”
    “It’s about one of the models.”
    “One of the NMD models?”
    “Yes. And I was hoping you could shed some light on the issue.”
    He wanted her help? Well, he certainly had an odd way of showing it. “I was hired to care for the dogs, Mr. Fettel. I don’t have a thing to do with the models.”
    “I’m aware of that, but you were the only person I could think to ask.” He cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind.”
    Great. She’d always wanted to be someone’s last choice. “I’m listening,” she said instead.
    “It’s about Cassandra and her dog.”
    Ellie had figured as much.
    “He has to be replaced.”
    She heaved a sigh. “I’m sure Cassandra knows someone who’d be happy to let her borrow their dog. Especially since the dog would be featured in an event of this magnitude.”
    “I’ve suggested as much, but she isn’t willing to cooperate.” He pulled a handkerchief from inside his jacket and dabbed at the sweat beading his forehead. “Her uncooperative attitude is quite disturbing.”
    “I don’t think she’s being uncooperative, exactly. She’s still in mourning.”
    “Mourning?” His stern expression didn’t change. “Who died?”
    “Her other dog, a Yorkie, if I understood her correctly.” And why not? Losing a four-legged buddy was like losing a dear friend or a member of your family. “She’s convinced Ranger is the perfect dog to take his place, and she doesn’t want to let him go.”
    “Ranger?” Fettel looked confused. “Who is Ranger?”
    Was this guy for real? “Ranger is the Greyhound we’ve been discussing. She rescued him after the Yorkie died, and they’ve formed a bond.”
    “But—but that’s ridiculous. She lost a dog, not a parent or sibling.” He swiped the hankie over his upper lip. “No one to be depressed about.”
    Ellie’s patience was all but gone. “That might be your take on losing a dog, but it’s not Cassandra’s, and I completely understand. Anyone who loves their four-legged friend loses a bit of themselves when that pet dies. They grieve, just like they would if it were a human.”
    He opened and closed his mouth, as if unable to form the words. Then he shook his balding head. “But we have a contract.”
    “I understand that, too.” She hated to see Cassandra burned, but . . . “I gather you already reminded her that she can be replaced.”
    “Of course, but she pulled a fast one. Didn’t bring him on the first day, and by the time we found out . . . well,