Page 116 of Lost Love on 6th Street

I frown. I didn’t know us not working out was public knowledge. Hell, it’s not even knowledge to me. I’m still turning that stone over in my head, wondering and wavering. Each day that passes, I change my mind at least a dozen times. Which isn’t fair to Eleanor. She shouldn’t be kept waiting like that.

Why does Claire know anything about it? “Oh, yeah. Um, thanks.”

“So, I don’t normally do this, but Shortbread was really attached to her, and I think it might break his heart if he doesn’t get his forever home.”

I pause for a moment to collect my thoughts. “I’m . . . not sure I follow.”

“Eleanor told me she can no longer adopt him since she’s headed out of town.”

The record scratch is loud. More like a car crash. “She’s leaving town?!”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry, I thought this is something you would have worked out with her since—”

“Claire, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, Eleanor told me since things didn’t work out, she’s moving back to Chicago.”

No. No this can’t be it. This can’t be how it ends.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“We . . . haven’t been talking.” I’m a fucking embarrassment. A disgrace. “I didn’t know that she was leaving, though, I thought—”

“God, I’m sorry. I feel like a total jerk.”

I swallow hard, like there’s a lump of wet newspaper traveling down my throat. “No, you didn’t know, how could you have?” I rub a hand over my face. “Um, but Shortbread. You were calling about Shortbread.”

“Yeah, well, I thought maybe you’d be interested in adopting him.”

I glance out the window of my office. I’d never considered having a pet. I’m too busy. I’d need a dog walker, and I’d probably want to be home more frequently because the poor guy shouldn’t be alone too much.

“Like I said,” Claire interrupts when my hesitance is too long. “I don’t normally do this kind of thing. But since we’re—” she cuts herself off with a laugh. “I don’t know, it’s all kind of topsy turvy. I thought I’d ask. There is no pressure to—”

The answer comes out of me like the starting gun of a race. “I’ll do it.”

* * *

Claire hands me the leash. “All yours.”

I take it, looking down at the dog beside me. Shortbread looks up at me, panting hard with his tongue hanging out.

There wasn’t a decision that had to be made. It was instantaneous. No way was I going to let this dog be disappointed. What would be the point of us both missing Eleanor separately if we could be together?

So, the second I was done with my work for the day, I rushed out here to Harmony Hounds.

“What do you think, Shortie?” I ask. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Shortbread licks my hand.

I smile.

Claire crosses her arms. “You can change his name if you want. Might take him some time to adjust, but . . .”

“We’ll think of something.”

She smiles. “You’re a saint, you know that?”

I give her a double take. “No, not a saint.” If only you knew the truth.

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