Page 46 of Return Billionaire to Sender

I’m a hundred percent fascinated. People so rarely surprise me.

Slim, nimble fingers move up to straighten her little tie. She wears pale pink polish on her short, carefully shaped nails. Everything about her is pitch-perfect in a way I can’t quite articulate.

“This quiz is designed to provide you with a very important lesson,” she says. “Don’t worry, it’s multiple choice.”

“You think I’m that kind of student? That I need multiple choice?”

She smiles a genuine smile, and I find it strangely pleasurable. “No comment,” she says.

“This had better count toward my hour,” I grumble.

“Letter carriers encounter three types of dogs,” she begins, “big dogs, medium dogs, and small dogs. Which of these three kinds of dogs does the letter carrier consider far and away the most dangerous?”

“First of all, you can’t imagine how delighted I am that we’re back to the letter carriers again,” I say.

“Well?” she asks primly. She seems to be taking the quiz very seriously.

“This feels like a trick question,” I say. “Is the obvious answer the wrong one or the right one?”

“Why not just tell me what you think is the correct answer without being fancy,” she says.

I study her eyes for a clue. “Clearly the big dogs. All dogs are territorial, but the larger breeds—your Dobermans, your Rottweilers, your German shepherds—those would have the more lethal bite.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Malcolm, you flunked that quiz completely.” Here she grins. “Letter carriers consider small dogs to be the most dangerous. You see, large dogs are confident dogs. They know that they can hold their territory, and they play by a certain set of rules; for example, they nearly always give you a warning growl before an attack. Letter carriers know exactly where they stand with a large dog.”

“Is that so?” I ask, wondering where she’s going with this.

“The medium dog is the same way,” she continues. “Medium dogs will play by the dog rules, too, though they have less ability to back it up. But the small dog?” She shakes her head sadly. “Small dogs look cute. But they cannot be coaxed with treats. They cannot be reasoned with. I think it’s something about their being small. The one thing they have in their arsenal is the ability to be unpredictable, to go completely crazy for no apparent reason when they feel threatened.”

My blood races. Is she doing what I think she’s doing?

She continues, “One minute they’re just looking at you with their sweet little faces. And the next thing you know, razor-sharp teeth are attached to your leg!” Here she fixes me with a playful look. “And theydo notlet go! When a little dog attacks, they attack with everything, like a wild banshee.”

“Is that so?” I say.

“Yes. Letter carriers carry pepper spray in their bags, as you know,” she continues merrily, pretty eyes sparkling, “but good luck with that. Once a small dog is in attack mode, all bets are off.”

“I see,” I say, blood racing.

Her face glows with aliveness and a look of pleasure that’s beautiful on her—or would be if she weren’t threatening me. She looks downright amused by her clever little threat.

“Are you the little dog in this equation? Are you going to attack me with no warning?”

“No, the moral of the story is that you should never underestimate little dogs, that’s all I’m saying. Maybe they have something to teach you.”

“And if I don’t behave, they’ll bite me?”

She shrugs. “Ready?”

“For more of the video?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says brightly.

“I’m jumping out of my skin with eagerness.”

She turns on the video and we watch it. Or at least, she watches it. My face is pointed in that direction, my ears are open to the ridiculous conversations on the screen, the answers that the people give to the probing questions thrown out by the unseen filmographer who seems to know them all, but my attention is all on Elle.

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