Color Me Pretty: A Father's Best Friend Romance

Her theatrics didn’t work on me. “I’m trying to get you to see the facts before you get too attached. You can’t help everybody that needs your generosity. There are shelters for strays around the city.”

To nobody’s surprise, she held the dog closer to her body in protection, like I’d snatch him up and run. “Some of the shelters euthanize innocent animals for no good reason other than limited space. At least if I keep him, I know he’ll be safe.”

I blinked. “You didn’t name it, did you?”

She gave me a timid smile.

“Della,” I chastised, pinching the bridge of my nose as the dog barked again.

“His name is Ramsay. Like Gordon Ramsay because his hair reminds of the chef’s.”

I blinked again. Twice. Slowly.

Her teeth bit into her bottom lip. “I’m going to train him, so he doesn’t make noise, and most of the apartment is hardwood or tile flooring so it wouldn’t be a huge hassle to clean up.”

“And smuggling him in and out to go to the bathroom?” I questioned, eyeing her skeptically.

Her face contorted to one of deep thought, but I could tell she was coming up blank based on the pleading look in her eyes. “I’ll figure it out, Theo. Promise.”

I’d heard those words before. It’d been a long time, but a much younger version of Della had delivered them when she tried convincing me that she could raise a cat without anybody noticing. Her mother was allergic though, and even if she weren’t, she probably would have had a heart attack over the fur that’d be everywhere. She was OCD and needed everything to be clean and precise.

“I’ll figure it out, Theo. I promise. Mom won’t even know there’s a cat in here. It’ll live in my room and I’ll feed it and bathe it and play with it and everything will be okay.”

The thought made me smile, just a tiny one that I doubted Della could even see. It eased the tightness in my chest that’d lasted the work week so far in the slightest way. Della always did that, even if she didn’t realize it. “I don’t see how this is going to work in your favor.”

“But…?” she hedged, eyes widening.

I blew out a breath and shook my head. “I don’t have anything else to say. You’re old enough to make your own decisions, I’m just here to tell you that they’re not the smartest.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Gee, thanks.”

I simply shrugged. “Speaking of bad decisions, you need to be careful around Samantha Pratt.”

“What?” I didn’t miss the way her face paled at the name.

“Samantha Pratt,” I repeated.

“I heard the name just fine the first time, but I don’t understand—”

“She comes from a family you don’t want to get twisted up in. I know you two used to play when you were younger, but it’s better if you steered clear now.”

Della frowned. “It’s not like Sam and I are friends, Theo. I saw her once last week, and that was the first time in years.”

Good. “Better to keep it that way.”

Her frown deepened. “You know, people say that about me too. They think it’s best to stay away from the Saint James’ because we’re all bad people thanks to Dad.”

“Della—”

“I’m just saying. I have no intention of hanging out with Sam, or the others, like we used to when we were younger. I’m not stupid. Things have changed with all of us. We’ve grown up. I just don’t like thinking that families are all alike because they share the same blood. That’s all.”

My sigh was heavy. “You’re right.”

She set the dog, Ramsay, down and it began circling around her. “What if he lived with you?”

“Excuse me?”

She beamed. “It’s perfect!”