Chasing Stanley Read Free Page A

worth it, believe me. I’m very good at what I do.”
    â€œI can see that.”
    â€œStanley has a wonderful temperament,” Delilah gushed. “And he obviously learns quickly. Training the two of you should be a snap.”
    Jason smiled. “Does that mean you think I have a wonderful temperament, too?”
    Delilah didn’t know what to say. This was one of the reasons she preferred dogs to people: they didn’t flirt or make you flustered. “I need to get going,” she mumbled.
    â€œOh. Okay.” Jason seemed reluctant to end contact. “So, I’ll call you, and we’ll set something up?”
    â€œSure,” said Delilah.
    â€œDo I need to wear a tie for my interview?”
    Delilah blushed, glancing down at Stanley, whose tail began wagging the second their eyes made contact. No doubt about it: he was a charmer. She bent down and kissed Stanley on the top of the head.
    â€œHow am I supposed to get him home?” Jason lamented.
    â€œHow have you been getting him home before today?”
    â€œWell, I kinda wait till he’s ready to move.”
    â€œAnd how long does that take?”
    â€œSometimes minutes. Sometimes—longer.”
    â€œYou stand here in the middle of a city block and make people go around you?” Before Jason could answer, Delilah pulled out another piece of hot dog from her fanny pack, slipping it discreetly into Jason’s palm. “Lead him home with this—but just this once! Otherwise he’ll expect it every time, and it will make training a nightmare.”
    Jason looked grateful. “Thank you.” Stanley was sniffing the air. A second later he was back on his feet, nudging Jason’s hand with his nose.
    Delilah pursed her lips disapprovingly. “That’s one bad boy you’ve got there.”
    â€œBut you’re gonna whip him into shape, right?”
    â€œI’m going to whip both of you into shape. Figuratively. Not literally. I mean, I’m not a doggie dominatrix or anything. If such a thing even exists. Which would be pretty weird if you think about it. I mean—”
    Jason held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
    Delilah hesitated. No way was she shaking his hand when hers was sweaty. Not knowing what else to do, she bowed. Jason looked confused, then bowed back.
    â€œWell, that was a first,” he murmured.
    â€œSo, uh, call me,” Delilah mumbled.
    Jason winked. “Looking forward to it, Miss Gould.”
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    â€œCheck it out.”
    Jason passed that day’s Daily News to his brother, Eric. It was open to a full-page article about him. Eric gave the article a cursory glance and handed it back.
    â€œSo you’re flavor of the week. Big deal. Tomorrow it will be someone else.”
    â€œDid the News do a full-page article on you when you came to play for Jersey?” Jason needled.
    Eric snorted. “Yeah. And they did an article on me in Sports Illustrated , too. One of us in this room has won the Cup, and it ain’t you.”
    â€œYet.”
    Eric snorted again. “Don’t hold your breath, little brother.” He returned to watching a rerun of Lost on Jason’s brand new plasma TV. Stanley lay at Eric’s feet, snoring louder than their father ever had. It was easy to forget sometimes he was a dog.
    Jason picked up the paper again, staring at the image of himself flanked by the Blades’ head coach, Ty Gallagher, and the team’s new captain, Michael Dante, who had taken over after Kevin Gill’s retirement. After three years of playing for the Minnesota Mosquitoes, Jason had been traded to the big time: one of the original six and the team of his dreams. Most players dreamed of playing with or under Gallagher—even Eric, though he’d never admit it now that he played for Jersey.
    Little brother . . . yeah, by three whole minutes. The family joked the only reason Eric emerged first was because