“Good boy,” Nikki coos. “You’re such a good boy.”

“Actually,” I say, sitting on the coffee table in front of them. “Chevron’s a girl.”

“A girl? We need a pink leash, then.”

“Yeah, when she gets a little bigger, I’ll get her a new one.”

“When she gets bigger, huh?” Nikki gives me a smug told you so smirk. “So we’re keeping her?”

“Well…” I explain my custody agreement with Richard and her face becomes more smug by the second. “Can you please wipe that self-satisfied expression from your face?”

“No, honey. Honestly, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Had what in me?”

“The cold blood to use this cutie”—she ruffles Chevron’s ears, making them fly up and down—“to reel in a man.”

“I’m not using Chevron to wheel anyone anywhere. Richard just offered to help me take care of her so she wouldn’t have to go to a shelter or be put up for adoption.”

“Oh, so you haven’t fantasized about romantic walks down Central Park hand-in-hand with the boss?”

“No, I haven’t,” I lie through my teeth.

Nikki flashes me a skeptical smirk but doesn’t call me out. “Besides adopting a dog together, how’s it going with Mr. Hot?”

“He’s bringing me to LA for the weekend.”

“No! I mean, how?”

“Promise you won’t freak out…”

She does the Girl Scout salute.

“Richard’s taking me to a charity gala and wants me to cover the red carpet.”

“And why should I freak out?”

“It’s Christian Slade’s charity ball.”

Nikki sags against the couch backrest. “You lucky biatch!”

“I know.”

“Can I hide in your luggage, please?”

“Eh, here’s the thing…” I’m glad she hasn’t stopped cuddling Chevron for one second since we came home. “Would you take care of our new roomie this weekend?”

“Oh, so you get to go to California with your hot boss to a party hosted by the sexiest man alive and I’m stuck here with this fur ball?”

“Woof,” Chevron yaps, and licks her cheek.

It works, Nikki’s already a goner.

“I’ll do it.”

“You’re the be—”

The buzzer interrupts me.

“I didn’t order take out,” Nikki says.

“No, it’s for me.”

“Who is it?”

“Mandy, from Angelika Black. They’re lending me the dress for the gala.”

“How come a major designer is giving you a dress?”

“They love me after I picked them for the Saskia Landon shoot.”

“Life’s unfair.”

I buzz Mandy in and help her carry the wheeled garment rack from the elevator into our apartment, along with the six black garment bags it’s carrying. Fashion lust makes my fingers prickle. I can’t wait to pull down the zippers and discover the designer treasures inside.

As we drag the rack into the living room, Chevron jumps off the couch and barks to welcome the newcomer.

Mandy’s reaction to our puppy isn’t exactly warm. “These gowns are extremely delicate.” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not sure having a dog around as you try them on is a good idea.”