A Christmas Call of Duty (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Colt

I arrive at the shelter early, my stomach in knots. Today's the day I present The Retired Heroes Project to Margo, and I can't tell if I'm more nervous or excited. I pace back and forth outside the entrance, realizing I completely skipped breakfast. Great. Now my stomach's growling on top of everything else.

A few minutes later, Tyler pulls up in his lime green Honda Civic. He hops out with a greasy paper bag in hand, smiling. "Hey man, you're early," he says, giving me a friendly clap on the shoulder.

I nod, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, just wanted to be prepared."

Tyler holds up the bag. "I grabbed some Italian subs from Tony's. You hungry? I got a few extra."

My stomach rumbles in response before I can even open my mouth. Tyler laughs. "I'll take that as a yes," he says, pulling out a wrapped sandwich and tossing it to me. "Let's go inside and polish these off while we wait for Margo. She's always running a few minutes late, so I'll save hers for later."

When Margo finally shows up, the energy in the room shifts from Tyler and I goofing off to both of us at an about face. After she hangs her coat up on a rack by the door, she motions for us to follow her back to her office, which is filled with animal-themed art. "What'd you bring for lunch?" she asks Tyler, suspiciously eyeing the bag in his hand.

"Tony's," he replies with a sly smile. "We already ate ours so I figured you could eat while Colt here talks business."

She pulls the last sub from the bag and unwraps it on her desk. “Tyler, you are a man after my own heart! So, Colt. What can I do for you today?” she asks before sinking her teeth into her sandwich.

I glance at Tyler, and he gives an encouraging nod as I pull out my presentation notes for The Retired Heroes Project. My fingertips skim over the ink, grounding me for what’s about to come. “I have an idea for a program that I believe can revolutionize how we care for retired military dogs. And with the help from the community and your shelter, I'd like to propose a potential partnership that would ensure the shelter remained operational for years to come."

Margo sits up in her chair, listening intently as I dive into the details of the Retired Heroes Project. I explain how this project isn’t just another idea—it’s a lifeline for these dogs who struggle to find their footing after service. Sharing statistics about their transition to civilian life, I make sure to focus on the importance of offering them training sessions and utilizing volunteer military handlers. “This way, we can enhance their quality of life and connect with the community,” I explain, noting how Margo’s eyes widen with interest. With each point I lay out—from collaborations with local vets and opportunities for community engagement—I know I have her full attention.

When I finish the presentation, Margo wipes the corner of her mouth with a napkin, then shifts in her chair before leaning in again. “Colt, I love it. The idea is brilliant! I have to say, I'm thoroughly impressed by your initiative and vision for this kind of work. It's exactly the kind of innovative thinking we need around here. Why don't you take a seat and get comfortable?”

I gather any loose pages from my business plan that I laid out on Margo's desk and return them to my portfolio before grabbing the chair next to Tyler. I lean forward in my chair, my heart racing as Margo's eyes settle on me. She looks impressed, sure. But my gut tells me there's something else on her mind.

She rests her elbows on her desk and lets out a heavy sigh. "Colt. Tyler. This Retired Heroes Project sounds like an incredible opportunity for the future of the shelter," she begins with a somber tone, "but while I can appreciate your enthusiasm, we can't lose sight of our immediate problem."

My stomach drops. I know what's coming.

"We're still facing a January 25th deadline, "Margo continues, her eyes flicking between Tyler and me. "As much as I believe your idea could bring in the money we need to keep our doors open long-term, it doesn't sound like any of your proposed methods for funding would be available in time to make a difference."

I feel the weight of her words settles on my shoulders. She's right, of course. The project, as amazing as I think it could be, won't solve the shelter's current financial dilemma.

"I'm sorry," Margo adds, her voice softening."I don't mean to be a Debbie-Downer. It's just that we're running out of time, and I'm not sure how we're going to pull this off with the ideas you've presented."

Tyler and I are both quiet until he perks up. "So, what's stopping us from getting Colt's project up and running right now? Surely, there must be some last-minute grants and loans available if we applied quickly enough. Is that something we've looked into yet?"

I lean back in my chair, processing Tyler's questions, and can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at how many times I've had those same thoughts. "I like what you're thinking, but it's not that simple, I'm afraid. Trust me, I've already tried," I say, trying to measure my level of disappointment. "My current military contract puts some pretty tight restrictions on what I can and can't do."

Tyler's brow furrows. "What kind of restrictions?"

I sigh, wishing it weren't so complicated. "For starters, I can't start a non-profit while I'm on active duty. There are rules about outside employment and financial interests that could conflict with my military duties."

"Oh," Tyler says, sounding equally as deflated. "I didn't realize."

"Yeah, it's tricky," I admit. "And seeking grants or corporate sponsorships? That's a whole other can of worms. The military has strict regulations about how personnel can interact with civilian organizations, especially when it comes to fundraising."

Tyler nods, processing this information. "So, what can we do?"

It's the million-dollar question. One none of us have come even remotely close to answering. I lean back in my chair, feeling the weight of our financial predicament settling on my shoulders. Margo's office begins to feel so small that I wonder if the walls are closing in on us.

"I have some cousins in Syracuse that are big into tech I can reach out to," Tyler offers. "Maybe they can connect us to one of their local startups. There's got to be a few in the area that are willing to support animal welfare."

Margo shrugs. "Never hurts to try, but with only a week left, that'd be a hard sell, even for a company that has that kind of money."

I drum my fingers on the arm of my chair. "Tyler says Jayden's group is running a crowdfunding campaign. Would it be worth trying to set up another? Maybe one with a wider reach that targets a new audience?"

"Too slow," Margo replies. "And we'd need a massive viral push to hit our goal in time. We don't have the resources without shelling out on ad spend."

"Yeah… this royally sucks, doesn't it?" Tyler says under his breath. "Every idea we come up with either falls short of the balance we need or would take too long to implement. The clock is ticking, and we're running out of options."

Margo rubs her temples, and the silence that follows is deafening. Tyler is right. We're all out of ideas, and time is running out. "Gentlemen, I know we're all under the same pressure right now, but I want to thank you both for all your hard work. You've poured your hearts into helping your team, and it shows." Her voice is soft as she looks up at us with an encouraging smile. I can see this is one of the qualities that makes her a great leader.

She sits up in her chair, her gaze more intense. "We still have seven days. That's one full week to make a difference. I know we weren't able to solve the shelter's problems today, but now is not the time to throw in the towel."

Her words hit like a jolt of electricity, and I know a welcomed reminder for Tyler and me. We can't give up now, not when we're so close. I think about all the progress we've made. Not to mention all the connections we've forged in the community. We know what works—we just need to keep pushing.

We're not done yet. Not by a long shot.

As Tyler and I step out of Margo's office, my mind buzzes with anticipation until I catch sight of Shay across the room. She's sitting in a chair near the entrance scrolling on her phone, and if it weren't for those long, gorgeous locks of hair falling in waves around her face, I'd wonder how it is that she doesn't spot me right away. Shay Mason is a one in a million kind of woman, and I'm just a fool trying to pick a winning combination to unlock her heart. In that moment, it all comes rushing back to me - why I'm here, why this project means so much. It's not just about the dogs or my career. It's about her.

Shay glances up, her blue eyes meeting mine for a split second before darting away. Even that brief connection sends a jolt through me. I want to go to her and explain everything, but my feet remain rooted to the spot. I realize now that she's been my motivation all along. Her passion for these animals, her determination to save this shelter - it's infectious. Suddenly, I know I can't let another opportunity to talk to her slip away. I have to make things right.