The Secret Seduction. Cathy Thacker Gillen

      That, Lily knew, might not save Spartacus from an unwarranted end. “He could get put to sleep!”

      Fletcher turned his glance away and didn’t respond, reminding Lily that was all part of his job. “Do you want to say goodbye or not?” he demanded harshly, the distant brooding look back in his eyes.

      Like clockwork, the shelter guy strode into the reception area, leash in hand. Lily’s heart slammed against her ribs and her breath caught in her throat. Numb no longer, she stepped between Spartacus and the two men, stated fiercely, “I am not going to let you do this!”

      As if sensing he finally had a savior worth his attentions, Spartacus finally lumbered out of his cage and stood looking up at Lily with his big sad eyes, his tail down between his legs.

      Fletcher frowned and folded his arms in front of his chest. He looked ready to square off, too. “You don’t have anything to say about it.”

      “Yes, I do,” Lily shot right back, unable to believe how cruel Fletcher was being. Her heart going out to the poor, grieving animal, Lily knelt beside the far-too-skinny yellow lab and wrapped her arms around Spartacus’s neck. She regarded Fletcher stubbornly. “I’m taking him home with me.”

      Fletcher’s brows drew together in accusatory fashion. Unwilling to admit she had offered up a solution, he said, “I thought you didn’t want a dog.”

      “I don’t,” Lily insisted as Spartacus trembled in her arms, his short, dense coat surprisingly soft and silky beneath her hands. He’d had a bath recently, and he smelled of fragrant dog shampoo. “But a lot of people who come into Madsen’s Flower Shoppe do. I’ll put up a sign. Heck—” she rose gracefully, tilting her head back determinedly, prepared to go toe to toe with Fletcher once again “—I’ll take him to work with me and I’ll find him a good home with no help at all from you!”

      LILY HAD PLENTY of time to regret her actions as she walked the still-somewhat-wobbly-legged N. L. Spartacus across the town square. Her reservations were echoed by her three very talented part-time florists. Mothers all, they juggled family, home and work responsibilities and were grateful for the flexible hours Lily allowed them. “What are you doing with a dog?” Maryellen asked.

      “Finding him a home.” Briefly, Lily explained, as she got out the digital camera she used for taking photographs of floral arrangements and took a close-up of his handsome face. “The problem is I don’t know anything about taking care of a dog.”

      “Well, don’t look at me,” the bespectacled Maryellen said as Lily hooked her camera into her computer and printed out the photo while her staff continued to gather round her.

      Belinda held up hands made plump by her latest pregnancy. “I’ve only let the kids get hamsters.”

      Sheila ran a hand across her perpetually sunburned cheeks. “My expertise is limited to our parakeets.”

      “Does he even know how to ‘stay’?” Maryellen asked as she bent to tentatively pet Spartacus’s white-blond head.

      Lily had no idea. “I guess I’ll find out,” she said, getting out what she needed to make up the poster that would find the orphaned pet a new home.

      As it happened, she needn’t have worried. Spartacus never let her leave his sight. In fact, he was so hyper-vigilant about where she was and what she was doing, Lily was starting to get a little worried, as she taped a sign in the window of Madsen’s Flower Shoppe. It said Wanted—Loving Home For 3-Year-Old Yellow Lab. She had taped a digital photograph of Spartacus beneath it and wrote Ask Inside….

      As Lily had hoped, it wasn’t long before she had drummed up some interest. A young mother with two elementary-school-age children walked in. They spotted Spartacus sitting tensely beside Lily and headed for him eagerly.

      The woman bent down to inspect him. “Is this him?”

      Lily smiled. “It sure is.”

      “What’s her name?”

      “It’s a he. And it’s Spartacus.” N. L. Spartacus…

      The little boy pulled on his mommy’s arm. “How come he’s not wagging his tail?”

      The woman frowned. “He doesn’t look very happy. We had in mind something a little more…exuberant.”

      Lily nodded, understanding the woman’s feelings, even as her feelings of protectiveness toward the dog increased tenfold. “He’s had a rough time,” she stated quietly.

      As if on cue, Spartacus moved closer to Lily.

      “Well, I wish you luck in finding him a home,” the woman said, gathering her kids close and backing toward the door.

      The same scenario was repeated throughout the morning. People came in. Spartacus pretty much ignored them all. Even going so far a few times as to turn his head completely away.

      “I wonder how hard it is to teach a dog social skills,” Maryellen murmured as she put a finished arrangement awaiting pickup into the refrigerator, and then stepped to the front of the shop to check on the progress of the filming on the other side of the square.

      “I thought it was kind of automatic for canines to wag their tails and look happy,” Belinda said, joining Maryellen at the picture window, her attention also fixated on the TV show scene unfolding before them.

      “Me, too,” Sheila murmured as the four of them gathered to watch Carson McRue step before the cameras. Someone called “Action!” on a bullhorn and he began conversing with the actor in front of him. The exchange wasn’t long. The director nodded his approval. Seconds later, Carson disappeared into his trailer once again.

      “Somehow I thought it would be more exciting,” Maryellen murmured.

      No kidding, Lily thought. She had expected to be riveted when Carson McRue hit town. After all, the handsome, charismatic actor had been a favorite of hers for years. She had watched him turn from a teen heart-throb and player of bit parts into an occasional film actor and the star of his own TV show. But she found he couldn’t hold a candle to the other man currently figuring prominently in her life—Fletcher Hart.

      And speak of the devil…

      Lily turned away from the picture window, hoping he hadn’t seen her. “I’ll be in the back,” she said, beating a hasty retreat to her private office. She had end-of-August bills to be paid, biweekly paychecks to issue.

      Spartacus was right beside her.

      Seconds later, the bell over the front door rang, and Lily felt as well as heard Fletcher stride in, the atmosphere in her century-old shop changing that much.