“Okay. Calm down. I’m pulling over.” Jake veers onto the shoulder. Thankfully, we’re not on a main road with heavy traffic. He hops out and opens the back door.

Swarley struggles to get out, so Jake helps him.

“Oh no!” I cover my mouth as Swarley retches again, but very little comes out.

“He probably got into something that’s upset his stomach.” Jake squats next to him and strokes his back.

“Call your friend. Call her now.” My stomach clenches like an angry fist as panic sends my heart sprinting to keep up with the fear that something is not right. Swarley is not a young dog anymore.

“Grab my phone.” He stays next to Swarley.

I get it and push the voice command button.

“Call Megan,” Jake says as I hold it close to his mouth.

Megan. I now have a name for the irrational jealousy that’s on my horizon. It rings on speaker three times before she picks up.

“Hey, sexy!”

Yeah. I hate her. After she fixes Swarley, I will kill her to eliminate my competition. Friend … Addy is his friend. He had sex with Addy. Doesn’t he have any male friends? Look at him … of course all his friends are women who willingly sleep with him. And they stay friends. Will we be friends when whatever this is ends in L.A.?

“Hey, Meg. Are you home today?”

“Depends. Are you coming to visit me?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m thirty minutes away. But I need a favor.”

“Is it sexual?”

I raise my brows, returning a tight smile as Jake tosses me a grimace.

“Uh … funny. No.”

“Am I laughing? Come on, throw me a bone or boner.” Now she laughs.

It’s a terrible laugh, and I’m not being catty or biased. Really.

“Totally kidding, Jake. But single life sucks. I never should have gotten married. The asshole just sucked all the good years out of me, and now I’m used goods.”

“I don’t have time to feed your ego, Meg. I need a favor.”

“You sound serious.”

Swarley retches again, but nothing comes out except tons of drool dangling from his lips.

“I’m traveling with someone. She has her sister’s dog with her, and she’s worried he might be sick or something. He’s vomiting and drooling excessively. He probably ate something he should not have. Would you be willing to check him out?”

“Of course. What breed of dog?”

“Weimaraner.”

“I’ll text you my clinic address and meet you there. I’m at home right now.”

“Thanks, Meg. You’re the best. See you soon.” He ends the call.

“Wow …” I shake my head while removing the soiled blanket from the backseat, retching a few times myself because it smells so bad. “I get to meet two of your friends slash past lovers on this trip. Yay me.”