Tessa
Tessa soon returned to her schedule after the con. She spent her morning sketching or coloring depending on the stage of the project she was working on at the time, then had a healthy lunch and attacked her admin—an endless sea of emails, invoices, queries that sucked up far too much of her time and tons of her energy—before realizing she’d forgotten to take a shower. After coming back to life in a hot shower—or a bath, occasionally—she changed into a fresh pair of PJs and finally slumped on her sofa, in front of a show or a movie.
She liked to cook, she even liked to eat out, from time to time. Regardless, there was a rule that had never and would never be broken. Once she got changed into her new PJs—not the ones from the morning—the day was over. She was in hibernation mode, strictly sticking to minimal effort.
So she called takeout.
The pizzeria down the road didn’t technically deliver takeout to anyone else, but if she tipped Marco, the fifteen-year-old son of the owners, he didn’t mind running her order over. Then there was her favorite Chinese, her second-favorite Chinese—they had better egg fried rice—and the new Japanese place that already knew her order by heart.
At least she cooked once a day, and she ate pretty well, all things considered.
On Tuesdays, unless she had a pressing deadline to take care of, she went to volunteer at a local dog shelter.
A week after moving into the Village, she’d seen the shelter and wandered in, almost involuntarily.
“How can I help you?” the receptionist had asked. A pretty girl with a name tag that said Valerie.
“I don’t know, I just…” Walked in for no reason whatsoever. That would have sounded weird, so she cleared her throat. “I think I might want a dog?”
The receptionist’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not sure? They’re quite the commitment.”
She was sure. “Yeah, I want one. I want my dog. A dog that fits me, you know?”
She was weird, there was no denying it.
Strangely, Valerie nodded like she completely understood.
“Absolutely. Well, we have about two dozen dogs at the moment, and one of the females is about to have puppies…”
Tessa was shaking her head already. “The puppies get adopted easily, right? I’d prefer an older dog, if possible.”
Now, Valerie beamed. “Great. Let me call someone; they can introduce you to our babies.”
By the end of the hour-long visit, she’d cuddled every dog and held them close, playing with them, having the best time. Still, none of those dogs was her dog.
Valerie invited her to come back another time, assuring her that they rescued new pups all the time. Tessa had made it a habit to go on Tuesdays.
The guys at the shelter were epic, doing a great job, but they were overworked and understaffed, with just three people taking care of twenty dogs, as many cats, and even some ferrets at any given time. They’d made it clear that her coming to cuddle the puppies was a good thing. In time, she’d started helping clean the pens and taking some of the dogs on walks, too.
She still didn’t have one dog, though she’d hugged a hundred.
Today had been hard. One of the new dogs, who’d arrived in a dreadful state just a couple of weeks ago, had passed away. He was so neglected and in need of constant care that Tessa had considered offering to foster him, but with the con over the weekend, she’d delayed proposing it to the shelter until her return. And now it was too late.
She’d stayed at the shelter all day, hating being there, unable to bring herself to go, and feeling so sad. Rather than getting back to her admin, she’d gone straight for the shower and put on her fluffiest PJs before calling for a pizza. No movie was working for her right now, not even her all-time favorite, The Princess Bride.
Hearing the doorbell, she dragged her feet to the door, opened it, and gasped out loud.
Then she closed it on Cole Westbrook.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit!
She was in fluffy PJs with rabbit ears!
Had she brushed her teeth?
Yes, she seemed to recall doing that sometime that morning.