Americano | The Dark Brew Series -1-

Chapter Three

Let me tell you one thing: taking care of a living, breathing creature is not as easy as everyone makes it seem. Growing up, owning a pet was never an option due to my mother's allergy. Even after I moved out, it never crossed my mind.

My head was full of things I should be doing next as I tried to walk Tucker. Once again, a few tugs on the leash proved how well his name suited him.

Maybe he belonged to someone. But in his poor condition, I couldn't return him to his previous owners with a clear conscience. After his bath last night, he already seemed so much happier. He strutted through the park as if we did this every day, greeting people with his slobbery smile and barking at other dogs in a playful manner.

Tucker seemed carefree-until we were about to leave the park. Lost in thought, I barely noticed when he abruptly tugged on the leash. It slipped right through my hands, and I gasped.

"Tucker! Come back!" I shouted, sprinting after him.

Everything had started so well. I couldn't lose him now.

I ran after him, even through bushes, but he vanished. I refused to let myself catch a breath. "Tucker!"

I called his name repeatedly, but there was no sign of him. My heart pounded in my chest. This is not happening!

Panic flooded my system. What if I couldn't find him? But then, a familiar bark caught my attention. With leaves tangled in my hair, I stormed through the park towards the sound.

There he was, jumping on some random stranger in joggers. Tucker's pawprints were all over the stranger's beige trousers, contrasting with his black sweater. Embarrassment slowly replaced my fear as I caught up to them and picked up the excited dog.

"I'm so incredibly sorry. I have no idea how he managed t-"

"Don't be sorry. I think we've met before," the stranger said with a grin, pulling off his headphones.

"Uh, at the café?" I asked, assuming he had mistaken me for someone else.

A deep laugh escaped his mouth. He took a step closer, shaking his head. "No, silly. Your dog and I have met before," he said casually, patting Tucker's head.

I felt my cheeks flush as I looked away. How was I supposed to know? That small fleabag obviously made his rounds in this area.

I could feel his gaze on me and his grin widening as he spoke. "He came up to me during my last run. When I tried to pick him up, he growled at me and left. I tried to follow him, but he walked into a building, and the door closed on me."

That's how he got into the building.

"So, your last run was yesterday, I guess," I said, turning my attention back to his face. I had to look up a bit since he was at least six foot something. Blue eyes had always been something special to me, but his almost black hair made them stand out even more.

"After the door closed on you, he knocked on my door."

With that, the stranger burst out laughing. "Knocked? Are you sure it was him?"

"100% certain. At first, I thought some drunks had gotten into the building again."

Tucker was getting heavy in my arms, so I set him down. A little grunt followed by a couple of sniffs made the stranger chuckle again. I couldn't help but join in.

"Well, lucky you it was only a funny-sounding dog," he said. Then, bending down, he pulled a treat out of his joggers. "I was hoping to see the dog again."

Instead of caring for the treat, Tucker began wiggling his whole body, clearly enjoying the attention. The treat was a nice addition. More pawprints covered the stranger's clothes, but he didn't seem to care. Instead, he gave the little bulldog even more attention, pets, and treats.

"The pink harness and matching leash don't exactly scream manliness, though," he remarked.

I gave him a confused look. "You think colours define manliness? That's bullshit."

"Bullshit? If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was actually a she."

Shaking my head, I disagreed. "You must be really insecure if you let a colour define you."

"I'm not insecure. But dogs and babies usually wear blue or pink to clarify just that," he said with a quick wink and a wide smile, which calmed me down a bit. I couldn't entirely disagree with him.

"If you say so, Joggers," I mocked, flashing him the nicest smile I could muster. "It was nice chatting with you, but I have other responsibilities waiting for me."

"Sure thing, Silly. See you around."

Then he jogged off. I watched him slide his headphones back on before vanishing behind a group of trees. I could swear I'd never seen him around here before. But it's New York-plenty of people live here or visit for just a few days. I wouldn't mind seeing him again.

"You cheeky dog. So you ran into the building to avoid being picked up? All it took was some nice food, and now you're a cuddle bug."

Tucker's soft face looked up at me as if he understood exactly what I was saying. Knowing he'd spent days on the streets made me feel sick. How could such an innocent creature go through that? After not being sure what to do with him last night, I had now decided to give him a permanent home. Getting used to handling him would be my number one priority after he had just run away from me a few minutes ago.

Ending the walk on that note was probably for the best.

As soon as I unleashed him in our apartment, Tucker jumped onto the sofa, curling up between a blanket and a couple of pillows. Seeing him so cosy made me smile. Putting his harness and leash next to my jacket on the hanger made me realise once more that I wouldn't be alone in this big city anymore.

With that thought, I felt a little cosier in my apartment too. I sat down next to the now snoring dog, grabbing my laptop from the small table beside the sofa. Going out tonight wasn't an option. I couldn't leave him alone while we were just getting to know each other, so I came up with different plans.

Ever since I arrived in New York, it had been my dream to publish my own work, whether in articles or even books. I'd kind of shoved that thought aside after realising that the American Dream was just that-a dream. But moving from a little town in England to New York City had been a lot of hard work and, frankly, expensive. Leaving wasn't an option.

While Tucker slept peacefully with one paw on my arm, I sifted through all the unfinished documents on my laptop. Gossip articles. At least a dozen documents brainstorming book ideas. And yet, nothing I could publish. Tonight would be the night I finally started working on making my dream come true. Browsing job listings on Indeed, I found a few journalism positions that sounded interesting. They were with smaller companies-nothing compared to the New York Times, Rolling Stone, or even Cosmopolitan.

When I first started applying for jobs in New York City, I failed miserably. My dreams became nightmares filled with the words, "We are sorry to inform you-"

But this time felt different. I knew I wouldn't be able to spend all my nights out anymore. I had a new responsibility. Why not pair it with a new job? Something that actually required some intelligence instead of just knowing how to make a proper cold brew and matching cold foam.

Now, I knew what I'd been missing. My whole life had been a straight line. If something seemed like it wasn't going to work, I didn't even try. But this little furball next to me showed me that fate finds its way, whether you ask for it or not. Maybe I should have tried harder when I first moved here instead of settling for working in a coffee shop for the next three years. I didn't want to sound ungrateful, but being a barista was never my dream. The decent pay and tips were the main reasons I stayed as long as I did.

Going through my old drafts, I decided to start fresh. Publishing something I'd worked on years ago would never be as good as creating an up-to-date article or story.