“I’m just saying that’s what it looks like.”

“That you would have the gall.”

“I know that’s not what happened, ok?”

“If you want to talk about forgetful, let’s talk about that time you drove off with Percy and Rufus and left me at the mall.”

North didn’t say anything. He just kept holding out the slip of paper with maddening steadiness.

If possible, the room had become even hotter. Shaw was sweating, big, stinging drops under his arms and across his chest.

“I’m allergic.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I almost died last time.”

“You pretended to have a coughing fit until I dropped the whole thing. That’s not the same as allergic.”

“I want to do it, North. I really do. I’d do anything for you. I love you.” Shaw knew he was pulling out the big guns, and he decided to go all in, opening his hazel eyes as wide as he could go, channeling every fiber of his being into sincerity. “I just—this is for health reasons. I can’t do it for health reasons.”

North shrugged into a fleece-lined denim jacket. His hand popped out of the sleeve still holding that damn card.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Shaw said. “I know this great—”

North stepped around Shaw. His Red Wings clunked on the wooden floors.

“North.”

North kept walking toward the front door.

“North, just hold on a second.”

The same even steps. No change in the pace. No change in the way they fell.

“North, now—North. Just think about—just think about what you’re doing.”

At the door, North stopped. He collected a leash hanging on the wall.

“North, I’ll do that thing we talked about,” Shaw said. “Whenever you want. I’ll do it. I know I said I wasn’t sure, but I’ll do it. I want to do it. Just don’t—”

“Are you talking about when I asked you to clean your bathroom?”

“Yes, I swear, I’ll—”

North smiled and shook the leash. The metallic rattle ran through the house, and a moment later, the sound of tiny claws rasping on wood came sprinting towards the front door.

“I’ll be back by nine,” North said, passing the leash and the card. “I wrote instructions on the back.”

Shaw watched the door close as the sound of tiny paws raced towards him. He flipped over the card he had drawn.

Good for one night’s free dog sitting.

2

BEHIND SHAW, THE SOUND of tiny nails came to a stop. Shaw turned around slowly. The tiny Löwchen, still a puppy, shook his lion’s mane of gray and white hair. He eyed Shaw with what was obviously a high degree of doggie suspicion. And then he barked once.

“I don’t like it either.”

Another bark.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t my idea.”

Two sharp barks.