Maxine chuckled. “I’m assuming he was talking about Axel. And a little discipline wouldn’t hurt that four-legged brat.”
“You know how I feel about relationships—even cross-species relationships. They should be built on equality and mutual respect.”
“Then I bet you and this guy got on like a house afire.”
Selena grimaced at the unpleasant thought of Mr. I-Will-Teach-You-To-Be-Pack-Leader Quinn.
“Hey, Selena, give him a break. He’s a dog trainer, for pity’s sake. Someone’s got to be in charge of the training. It might as well be the human.”
“He didn’t like being called a dog trainer, either.”
“So what does he think he is?”
“I don’t know. Some kind of Zen master, for all I know. It doesn’t matter anyway. We gave him the boot.”
“And your backup plan would be?”
“I don’t have—”
Just then a crash and an ear-splitting shriek came from the sidewalk below, followed closely by a string of baritone expletives. Selena jumped up to peer over the wall and saw a river of fruit rolling in a cascade of oranges, yellows, greens and reds over the pavement and into the street.
Axel. She’d bet the farm.
She tore downstairs with Maxine on her heels. Outside, one of the stands that bracketed the produce market door lay overturned on the sidewalk. As Drew and several customers scrambled to right the stand and pick up the fruit, Sam raced around, waving his arms and chasing Axel, who held a grapefruit in his mouth and didn’t seem to understand why Sam didn’t want to play fetch.
On one of his run-bys, Selena grabbed Axel’s collar, then Drew’s sleeve. “Take him upstairs. Now. I’ll settle with Sam.” For once, Drew disappeared with his dog, without argument.
“Sam! Calm down!” Selena stepped in front of the red-faced man who seemed intent on following Axel right up into the apartment. “I’ll clean this up. You tend to your customers.”
“And what will they buy?” Sam growled. “My fruit is ruined!”
“Not all of it, I’m sure,” Maxine said, stepping up to take Sam’s arm, urging him into his shop. “Selena and I’ll check every piece. If it’s good we’ll restack it.”
“And if it’s damaged, I’ll pay for it,” Selena added, her heart sinking. Bruised fruit could not be counted as a project expense. Now breakfast and lunch for the next week looked like smoothies, smoothies and more smoothies. “I’m sorry, Sam. I promise it won’t happen again.”
Maxine almost had the greengrocer inside his shop when he whirled to face Selena. “That dog of yours is a menace. A menace! Do you see Charlie?” Sam waved his arm in the direction of the homeless man across the street, pushing a grocery cart and leading a very large dog as homeless as he. Charlie and Pip existed on the kindness of those who lived and worked in the neighborhood. “Charlie’s taught Pip more manners than most of the parents on this street have taught their kids. Why can’t you control your dog, as well?”
Selena didn’t have an answer to that.
A minivan with the city logo on the side pulled up, and a uniformed woman hopped out, a pole with capture-loop in hand.
“Oh, Sam!” Selena cried. “You didn’t call Animal Control!”
“What else could he do?” Isadore, the owner of the dance studio, asked as a small crowd of neighbors began to gather. “Your dog’s been a problem for all of us.”
His remark was met with nods all around.
“Where’s the dog?” the officer asked.
“My son took him upstairs,” Selena replied. “Everything’s under control.”
“Everything’s not under control,” Sam snapped, indicating the fruit on the ground. “As you can see.”
“Was the dog off-leash when this happened?” the officer asked.
“No,” Sam admitted. “But a leash does no good. Her kid can’t handle that overgrown mutt.”
“Is this true, ma’am?”
“Occasionally…yes.” What else could she say as her neighbors stared her down?
“Did he bite anyone?”
“No! He’s not a biter!” Selena felt insulted on Axel’s behalf.
“He’s a barker!” Isadore exclaimed, warming to the exchange. “Day and night, night and day. Try teaching a dance class when you can hear his yapping over the music.”
“And he never met a garbage can he couldn’t overturn,” someone at the back of the group groused. “Or a lamppost he didn’t christen.”
Selena felt outnumbered. “In our defense, we had a meeting with a dog behaviorist.” She couldn’t believe she was using the odious Jack Quinn to bolster her case. “He says he can turn the situation around. We signed up for three sessions.” Semi-truth if you considered that, until now, she hadn’t planned on seeing him again.
The control officer looked dubious. “Do you have a receipt?”
“Somewhere.” Maybe.
“You’ll need to bring it down to our offices. And, later, proof of course completion. Successful completion. There’s a fine if you don’t comply. Worst-case scenario if there are more complaints, we can impound the dog. So this is serious business. Understand?”
“I understand,” Selena said with sinking heart.
The officer leaned the capture pole against the building, then pulled out a notebook. “In the meantime, I’m writing you a ticket. For disturbing the peace.”
Selena knew this was the time to keep her mouth shut, but when she looked at the ticket, she couldn’t contain herself. “A hundred bucks!”
“And you need to clean up this man’s produce.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Although, as she picked up and inspected Chilean and New Zealand kiwis, pomegranates and mangoes, she wasn’t sure how. Other than asking Jack Quinn for help. More difficult than turning tail and admitting she might need that overbearing man was the thought of convincing Drew of the need.
Drew had liked Jack less than Selena had.
After restacking the saleable fruit and paying for two very large sacks of bruised items—Axel gave new meaning to the phrase “doggie bag”—Selena trudged up to her apartment.
“I’ll finish up on the roof,” Maxine said on the landing. “Call if you need reinforcements.”
Inside the apartment an uncharacteristic silence met her. It seemed both boy and dog—who were nowhere to be seen—knew they’d stepped in deep doo-doo this time for sure. “Drew!”
“In here.” She followed her son’s dejected voice into his room.
He was sprawled on his bed next to Axel. A telephone book lay on the floor, open to the yellow pages. “I tried to find someone else, but there’s no listing for dog shrink.”
“No matter what Mr. Quinn calls himself, I think we’d have to look under dog training.” Selena sat on the edge of the bed. “But we need to talk first.”
“You don’t really want to use this guy, do you?”
No, she didn’t, but her reasons went beyond Jack Quinn’s untested approach to Axel’s reformation. “Why don’t you want to use him?”
“I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”
So her son’s reasons weren’t