Chihuahua Confidential by Waverly Curtis Read Free Book Online

Geri,” Ted said, coming up behind me. “You’ll be fine!”
    Was it that obvious I was worried? And why wasn’t he? Security was high because of the protestors, and we all had to show our IDs at the gate. I wondered how Ted had gotten through security. Maybe he had a fake ID.
    â€œLet’s walk through the routine before we do it to music,” Ted said. We headed down the stairs.
    â€œOh, look, there’s Jake!” I said, spotting the animal safety representative sitting in the front row of the audience. “He must be watching to make sure the dogs aren’t being asked to do anything that would be dangerous.”
    Ted whirled around and faced the back of the room, his head down. “Damn!” he said. “He can’t see me.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œHe knows who I really am,” Ted muttered. “We were in a documentary, debating about the welfare of animals in the entertainment industry.”
    â€œSurely you’re on the same side!” I said. “You both want to protect animals.”
    â€œWe do, but they don’t!” Ted said with contempt. “They’re just shills of the entertainment industry. They get paid to do this job by the very people they are supposed to be monitoring. That’s why I’m here. To make sure the job is done right.”
    â€œSo what does this mean?” I asked.
    â€œIt means you’re going to have to walk through the routine without me,” Ted said. “I’m sorry. Maybe I can arrange to have him distracted.” He headed back up the stairs, his head still down.
    I looked at Pepe.
    â€œDo not fret! I will coach you, Geri!” he said. And it was true; he knew the whole routine. We signaled the sound guy to turn on our music and went through the routine. Pepe slinked and I rambled, he did arabesques and I did pirouettes, and we even managed a few paws de chassez . Close to the end of the routine, someone came over and tapped Jake on the shoulder. He got up and hurried away. Then Ted appeared. He had apparently been watching from the back of the bleachers.
    â€œYou did great!” he said, strolling down to the stage. “Let’s just review the last part.”
    â€œHow did you get rid of Jake?” I asked.
    â€œGot someone to tell him there was a dogfight backstage. That got him going.”
    Ted walked us through the last bars of the routine, counting out the beats, until he came up with something he liked. Then we left the stage on our way to hair and makeup. As we made our way through the confusing warren of rooms backstage, Pepe suddenly stopped. “Say, is that not Senor Rodney over there? The personal assistant to el muerto , Nigel St. Nigel?”
    I spotted the guy he was talking about. Sure enough, it was Rodney. I would have recognized his spiky bleached-blond hair anywhere. “Yes, it is,” I said. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”
    â€œI think he is gophering again,” said Pepe.
    â€œ Gophering ?”
    â€œ Sí . That is what personal assistants do, no?”
    Rodney spotted us and came hurrying over.
    â€œ Hola, Senor Rodney,” said Pepe.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” I asked.
    â€œI’ve got a new gig.” He grinned. “I’m the assistant to the assistant to the assistant director!”
    â€œThat is some title,” said Pepe. “I do not wish to boast, Geri,” he told me. “But I began one rung higher when I started out with Captain Cortez. I was the assistant to the assistant deckhand. I was in line to become bosun’s mate by the time I left the ship.”
    I gave my dog a dirty look, then realized that Rodney hadn’t heard his crass remark. (When you’ve got a talking dog, it’s often easy to forget that nobody else can understand him.)
    â€œCongratulations, I guess!” I said.
    â€œOh yes, it’s definitely a good thing,” he said.