A girl chasing her dream. A boy looking for the light.
When Florence Nyx started her internship at a Formula 1 paddock, she expected a lot. Fast cars. Exclusive impressions most people could only dream of. An entire array of skills she'd acquire...
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"I'm not getting a dog, Jas." I groaned at the sight in front of me: the patch of grass behind the animal shelter's metal crates was crowded with about a dozen dogs wrestling and playing with each other.
"Not saying you have to." She shrugged, bending down to greet a Pomerian mix in her arms. "Just saying these dogs want a home, and you could offer them one."
My eyes narrowed at the way she ruffled the dog's fur before she released it again.
"Don't know if you noticed, but I don't exactly have much time to spend at home. I work more than I breathe."
"Which is exactly why you need a dog to keep you company," she quipped, a wide grin on her lips. "Oh my god, how cute is he?"
Following her gaze, I spotted a grey French bulldog running toward her, its tongue slipping out of the mouth as it collided with her legs. Jas bent down to pick it up, and I stifled a laugh at the way she tried to contain her scowl when it started licking her face.
"I don't even know why you want a dog." I laughed, watching how she tried to force its tongue back into his mouth. "Doesn't look like you're up for it, anyway."
"Excuse me?" She challenged me with raised brows. "I'm very much up for the challenge. He could keep me company when I'm in the studio."
"It's a she," I commented, nodding toward the dog's belly.
"What?" Jas followed my gaze. "Oh, he doesn't have a dick."
The laugh from my lips was loud enough to get the dogs' attention, many of them now running in our direction. "No, she doesn't." I snorted, watching how half a dozen furballs gathered between our legs.
"Look, they already like you."
"They're all so small," I retorted, frowning at the size of those canines. "Don't they have a German Shepherd or something around here?"
"This is a shelter for injured and unwanted animals!" A woman standing a few feet away from us gasped, scowling at us. "Excuse us for not having your favorite breed in store."
She rolled her eyes and propped her hands on her hips, challenging me. As much as I despised her attitude, I couldn't deny she was right. This wasn't a supermarket, and these weren't lifeless objects. They were living beings, wanting a home, safety, and someone to cuddle with.
Great. Now I felt bad.
"I apologize," I said, bathing in the woman's surprised reaction. It would never cease to amaze me how startled people get when someone genuinely apologized for their mistakes. "You're right, that was inconsiderate of me."
The woman blinked a few times, but finally shot me a smile, her gaze averting to the grass in front of us. I studied the area intently, scanning every dog and why it could possibly be here.
