Spotlight 3: Valentine Pets & Kisses with KL Brady and Jeanne Bannon

The lobby was no less elegant than the hotel’s exterior, draped in luxurious natural-colored decor with reddish accents, Italian marble, and ornate European-styled furniture placed in cozy, conversational arrangements. The desk attendant, an older gray-haired lady with a southern twang, shifted her eyes between them.
“Well, don’t you two make the cutest couple?”
“We do, don’t we?” Dylan said, wrapping his arm around Mel’s shoulder, grinning as if he’d won the lottery. With one eyebrow up, Mel glanced at his hand and then brushed it off. “Uh, no, no. We’re best friends.” “Oh, I get it. Friends with benefits.” She winked.
“No, no. Just buddies.”
“Well, if he’s not with you”—she reached between her ample bosom and pulled out a business card—“he can give me a call. I get off in an hour.”
“Uh, ma’am, we’d just like to check in, please. Any additional rooms available?”
She pursed her lips and gave Mel every bit of her attitude. “Afraid not. We’re all booked up until Monday. Super Bowl.”
Mel handed the woman her credit card, then waited for her to process it for incidentals and pass her the keycards. “Room 315. Up the elevator to the third floor; your room is on the left at the end of the hall.” As Mel dragged her suitcase and Mack toward the elevator, his carrier handle started to cut into her finger so she swapped him for one of Dylan’s bags. Then they pressed ahead through the pristine, marble lobby to catch a ride to their room.
“Mel, why do you keep doing that?” Dylan asked as they waited for the elevator to alert its arrival.
“Doing what?”
“Telling everyone we’re not together as if I’m a leper or something.”
“If my memory serves me correctly, denying that we’re a couple used to be your role. How many times have you told your potential prey that I’m your little sister?” Mel responded, giving him the side eye. “Guess you taught me well, Obi-Wan.”
He grimaced as the elevator doors opened, motioned her inside, and pressed “3.”
“Listen, I’ve wanted to talk to you about Gizelle. She didn’t cancel. I did…and there’s a reason, something I didn’t realize until recently.”
“How many times did I tell you Gizelle was all wrong for you?”
“About a thousand, but that’s not what I’m—”
She let out a long exasperated sigh. “Dylan, while I just love hearing about your sexual exploits and break- ups,” she said facetiously, “how about you hold that thought until after I’m out of a hot shower and into some pajamas.”
“But you don’t understand. What I’m trying to say is—”
Just then the doors opened and Mel stepped off the elevator. It was too late when she heard someone yell, “Go deep!”
An object collided against her temple, causing a dull aching pain to stretch across her skull and into her neck. Dylan’s voice screamed, “Watch out!” before all light and sound faded and the hall went black.

Bardot was five months old now and still not housebroken, but without Josh around, Lexi was as helpless as a, well, a newborn puppy. She got up slowly from the hard floor. Her back ached and her head pounded. She guessed Bardot had to go outside for a pee—another thing she hated about having a dog. Her small yard wasn’t fenced and so she had to walk the puppy around until it decided to do whatever it had to. Lexi prayed Bardot hadn’t already done her business in the crate. That was not an uncommon occurrence and it always meant she’d have to bathe the dog since she didn’t seem to have the sense not to step in her own waste. Lexi sighed at the thought of it. Bardot did not like baths.
She bent down to open the door to the crate. Bardot already had her little pushed-in snout against the grill of the door, stubby tail wagging furiously. When she opened it, Bardot bounded out and jumped up to kiss her. Even though still just a pup, she was strong and her boxy little skull connected with Lexi’s nose. Blood gushed. Lexi stifled it with a hand while trying to keep the puppy at bay with the other, but Bardot was persistent, jumping and jumping until she knocked her mistress backward onto her butt.
Lexi let her head fall into her hands and cried; a small pool of blood and tears spilled onto the front of her T-shirt. She looked up in time to see Bardot squatting on the rug.