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I typed out a message.

NASH: Hi Sariah. Hope things are going better for you.

Archie, always the first dog to finish his food, came waddling into the kitchen and I set my phone down on the counter.

“Hey bud, you want to go outside?”

I’d had a doggie door installed last summer—best decision ever—but I was still in the habit of asking the dogs if they wanted to go out after they ate. Archie waited until I’d scratched all his favorite places, and then he headed for the doggie door.

I made myself a sandwich and grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, and when I sat down at the table to eat, I saw that Sariah had responded.

SARIAH: Are you really a man?

I lowered my brows, amused, taking a giant bite of my sandwich before responding.

NASH: Just checked my pants and found a sausage and two meatballs, so yep, I can confirm that I’m a man.

SARIAH: I’m feeling stabby toward your sex right now. I’m a waitress, and a huge table of guys in suits came into the place I work for lunch. Two-hour lunch. All of them had top-shelf drinks. They tipped nine percent.

NASH: WTF? Not all men are assholes. I always tip at least twenty-five percent.

SARIAH: It seems like the people who have the least to give are always the most generous tippers.

NASH: My dad always said if you need a volunteer, ask a busy person, and if you need some money, ask a poor person.

SARIAH: It shouldn’t be that way, but it is. Rich people are selfish. It’s gross.

NASH: Did you ever reach Theo about the cat?

SARIAH: No. Fuck him. NEW SUBJECT. Is your day going better than mine?

Archie came back into the kitchen from the doggie door, his nails clacking on the hardwood floors. The other two had gone out there after him. He flopped down onto the floor by my feet and I took a photo of him before sending it to Sariah.

NASH: This is my guy Archie. Hard to have a bad day with him around. He’s one of three.

SARIAH: Rob, he’s beautiful! I just want to smoosh his face and snuggle him. You have three dogs!?

Why had I told her my name was Rob? She hadn’t even asked. We could have remained two anonymous people, getting to know someone we’d never meet in real life.

NASH: Couldn’t help myself. They’re family, you know? Do you think you’ll get another pet? Not soon, but someday?

SARIAH: I don’t know. My head says no but if I take one step into an animal shelter, my heart will drop-kick my head and I’ll walk out of there with something warm and furry.

I smiled at her answer.

NASH: Pets are the best. They’d never tip you nine percent, and they’d fight anyone else who did.

SARIAH: With Mr. Pebbles, it would have depended on the day. He had so much attitude. A complete sense of entitlement. If I gave him the canned food with chunks of beef instead of salmon, he’d give me a murderous look. I miss that asshole.

NASH: It sounds like you gave him a good life.

SARIAH: Thanks. I hope I did. But it definitely wasn’t long enough. I have to put my phone away and get back to work. Shitty tippers be wanting their food.

NASH: Hope the tips get better.

SARIAH: Thanks. Give Archie a smooch for me.

Chapter Three

Sariah

* * *

I smoothed my hands down my dress pants and took a deep breath before stepping inside the Warren Center. I was smart, professional, and experienced, but job interviews made me nervous. Especially one like this. I’d never dreamed I’d get called for an interview when I’d impulsively sent in my résumé to the sales department of the local professional hockey team, the St. Louis Mavericks. They’d called and done a phone interview first, and now they wanted to meet me. It was as unnerving as it was exciting.

Originally, I hadn’t thought much of it. I liked my job as a sales rep for a local weekly newspaper called the Weekly Grind. The problem was that I made a small base salary and everything else was commission. The paper wasn’t doing well at the moment, so it was getting more and more difficult to get local businesses to advertise, which impacted my commissions. Some of my regulars had admitted to me in confidence that they just weren’t seeing a return anymore. I’d had to start waiting tables part time to make ends meet after Theo left six months ago, because the paper had eliminated bonuses.

Everything would be easier once I moved out of my ridiculously expensive apartment. It would be even better if I got this job working for the Mavericks. I didn’t know much about hockey, but I’d done my research the last week, watching every game I could find online and learning about both the team and the sport.

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