After we spent the rest of the afternoon strolling around the massive zoo, we enjoyed corn dogs and an elephant ear before we caught the final dolphin show of the day. When it was time to go, he drove me back to the shelter to retrieve my car. Even though I had hoped he would invite me over to his place for a drink, I knew it wasn’t in the cards. It was getting late and we both had to work tomorrow. He’d never so much as hinted an invite for me to stay over, or even come upstairs for a nightcap.
Unfortunately.
Up until Sunday night, I’ve been content with a chaste kiss on the cheek goodnight, or so I had thought. But after I experienced that toe-curling kiss on Saturday, I realized I could never be happy with just a few chaste kisses. I wanted more of the mind-blowing ones from earlier in the weekend.
When he helped me to my car, he leaned in, clearly planning to kiss my cheek once again, but the moment his lips hovered over my skin, I moved. Those full, warm lips changed course and landed smack-dab square on mine. I could feel the electricity slide all the way down my body, as he coaxed my mouth open and slid his tongue inside. Just as I moved my hands to his back, he broke the kiss, seemingly a little dazed by how quickly the kiss moved from zero to sixty.
After that, he quickly bid me goodnight, promising to be in touch soon. In the last three days, I’ve only received a quick text to check in, but haven’t been able to connect with him further. I’m hoping to change that tonight. I know his apartment is being remodeled and redecorated, so I want to invite him to dinner at my place. He’s never been there, always opting for public dinners in restaurants, but I’m hoping he’ll consider something low-key for this evening.
I step into the conference room at the shelter and grab my phone. We use this room for families who are here to adopt one of the pets. It gives them privacy to fill out the necessary paperwork and spend a little time with their potential new pet before they take him or her home. I’m meeting Edith in a few minutes to go over the final details on the Fur-ever Home Gala coming in just two weeks.
Me:Hey, Cowboy. Plans for dinner?
He doesn’t reply right away, but that doesn’t surprise me. Matthew is always busy with work, so I set my phone down on the tabletop and take one of the hard plastic seats.
“So sorry I’m a few minutes late. I had someone call about Shadow, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to potentially adopt him,” Edith announces as she steps into the conference room, another volunteer, Debbie, hot on her heels.
Shadow is an eight-year-old black Labrador Retriever who was brought to us a year ago. When he was rescued, he was chained to a tree outside, malnourished, and scared to death. It took us a few months to even see any sort of trust in those dark eyes. Now, he’s a little less timid, though you can still see the hint of wariness reflecting in those soulful orbs. The fact that someone is interested in the dog is wonderful, and I’m hoping it works out.
“That’s such good news,” I tell her, a smile instantly spreading across my face.
“Agreed. They’re a young couple with a small boy. They’re coming in later this afternoon to meet him,” Edith adds, returning my grin with relief in her eyes. “It was because of the boosted Facebook post that they saw his cute face and wanted to give him a home.”
“That’s why this fundraiser is so important,” Debbie notes, taking a seat beside me.
“Most definitely. Not only does it fund the shelter for the year, but it helps with vital advertising and promoting our adoption services. Putting the animals directly in view definitely helps tug on those heartstrings a little more.”
“So we’re just over two weeks away from the Fur-ever Home Gala. What do we still need to do?” I ask, anxious to get down to business.
The idea of the gala was actually mine. After I had started volunteering at the shelter, I saw how important donations were. I made several contributions myself, but after attending a fundraiser for a local not-for-profit youth sports center, the idea of a formal gala came to mind. I pitched the idea to Edith, who agreed it could be highly beneficial to the shelter. The first event brought in almost one hundred thousand dollars, between the per-plate dinner and the silent auction. The second annual event last year, we doubled our proceeds. We have big hopes for this year’s event.
“I’ve been in contact with the caterers and the band. Both are set. Deadline to purchase tickets is this Friday, and so far, we’re sitting at just over three-hundred and fifty.”
“I’ll give it another push on our social media pages, but that’s not really the demographic we’re targeting to sell tickets,” Debbie adds, and she’s absolutely right. Most people can’t afford a five-thousand-dollar plate dinner. Our targeted audience is more of the business world. Those who want to see their names associated with a charity and their photos in the papers. My father was a big help in filling tables last year and has been nothing short of amazing in helping promote again this year.
I smile at Debbie, the older grandmotherly woman with a big heart for shelter animals. Debbie lives in a small duplex not too far from here and isn’t in a financial position to purchase a dinner plate for her and her husband. When I approached Edith with the idea of the gala, it was with the stipulation that all volunteers and significant others could attend at no cost to them. I have the money just sitting in several accounts, accruing
