Page 19 of The One You Chose

Hesitating, I scratched my nose. “It’s not exactly a case of wanting a pet.”

A brow raised, Zoya waited for me to explain.

“I got this wrong email from a guy at the Humane Society. His name’s Jeremiah. We’ve kind of been...”

Zoya plopped down next to me, pulling my laptop out of my hands, “Have you been sexting with some rando from the Humane Society? Lina McConnell, you tramp.”

Pulling the laptop out of Zoya’s hands, I held the laptop close to my chest like armor. “It’s not like that. All we’ve done is talk. He’s new to town. Mostly we chat about silly stuff like food and beer. But...”

“But there’s a vibe?” There was a light behind Zoya’s dark brown eyes. When I didn’t respond, Zoya tilted her head to the side. “Wait, what about that guy from the Skol House? I thought you were into him.”

“I told you what happened. I had a great time with him, but he checked out without so much as a note for me. He was a no-show. I have no idea when I’m going to see Fitz again. I don’t know his last name or where he lives or works. If he wanted to see me again, he would have left word.”

“Was that before or after you left him naked in bed to run around with a turkey hat on your head?”

I frowned at Zoya, crossing my arms. “You said you weren’t going to judge me about that. I never would have mentioned my one-night stand if I knew you’d be giving me a hard time.”

Zoya frowned. “I’m not giving you a hard time about sleeping with him. I saw that man and he was all sorts of fire. But not leaving your number? That is an amateur move.”

Throwing my hands up, I groaned. “Because I am an amateur. The last guy I slept with was Tobin, that computer science teacher from the college.”

Wrinkling her nose, Zoya shook her head. “The guy who corrected you for leaving out theTwhen you say often?”

Nodding, I set the laptop back down. “And cheated on me. But yes, he also corrected my grammar. I know it’s dumb, but I thought I had a connection with Fitz. It’s not like it was love at first sight or anything...” Only, it almost felt that way. I could never tell my best friend that. Zoya was understanding, but to tell her I was likely in love with the man I spent a grand total of nine hours with? I would never hear the end of it. Especially if it was amounting to a big fat nothing.

I couldn’t help but feel as if I would never be the same after being with Fitz, but that was ridiculous. I was a level-headed woman who had a good job and paid most of my bills on time. My car only has a few dents from opening the door into the mailbox. I ate bagged salad at least once a week, like an adult. I wasn’t in love with Fitz after a single night.

“But this guy, Jeremiah, seems nice and smart. He could be 80 for all I know. Or a woman, I guess Jeremiah could be a woman’s name.”

“Might be.” Opening up the laptop, Zoya pulled up the humane society website. “Let’s find out.”

I navigated to the staff information section to find little information. No picture, just a boring bio about growing up in Seattle, graduating at the top of his class five years before, a lifetime of volunteerism and animal right activism. Blah, Blah, Blah. Nothing good like does he hate rhubarb beer and love mediocre hot sauce. Zoya nudged me to the side and began scouring the Humane Society pages for mention of him, but all they found were pictures of cats, dogs, and a rabbit wearing Santa hats and a Guinea pig in a yarmulke.

They moved on to social media. She was pretty sure she found his profile; J.F. Deir with a profile picture of a guy dressed in snow gear standing on the top of a mountain with his back to the camera. It was locked up tight on private. No Instagram, no twitter, no TikTok.

“This Jeremiah Deir is a ghost.” Zoya said.

“Figures.” I flopped back down on the bed, staring up at the crack in the ceiling our landlord, Mr. Dawson, was supposed to fix over the summer. “All I get is ghosts these days. Ghosted by the only guy to give me an orgasm and now I can’t even find a picture of someone who is probably married or has frosted tips. Oh god, what if he wears deep v-neck tee shirts? Zoya, I cannot catch feelings for a guy who wears deep v-necks. There is desperation and then there’s that.”

“Let’s go.”

I rolled my head to the side to look at Zoya. “Go where?”

Standing Zoya, gathered her purse off the table and glanced around for her keys. “To the Humane Society, of course. We’ll pretend we’re going to adopt a dog or something. Then we can try to catch a peek at your elusive Jeremiah.”

I glanced down at my floral patterned sweatpants and oversized 100-hour reader shirt I got from the local library. “I need to change first.”

“Love you so much, Lin, but you might want to shower too.” Wrinkling her nose, Zoya shooed me to the bathroom. I responded with a middle finger.

The sound of barking could be heard through the steel door. Ever the faithful best friend, Zoya took an antihistamine on the drive over. Walking into the sparse waiting room, I looked around for an office labeled “Adoption Director” or a man who could be Jeremiah. As we approached the door to the dog kennels, a head popped over the desk. For a split second, I thought it might be Jeremiah.

“Hey, Zoya Porter and Lina McConnell in my shelter.” Cooper Francis said from behind the counter.

I swallowed down my disappointment at seeing our old classmate instead of the elusive Jeremiah Deir.

“What are you two ladies doing here? We’re having a special right now. Twenty-five dollar adoption fees. Same application process, but cheap until next Wednesday.”

“We have a small place so we’d need a small animal, a kitten maybe, or a small dog.”

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