Sure enough, there was Millicent Nabors standing in her newly renovated condo. She was an actress from a show on the CW network and had met Shelby through Allan and hired her. Shelby had done a fantastic job, given these pictures, but at the last minute Millicent had fired her and reneged on her final payment by claiming that Shelby had violated one of the terms of their agreement (which she totally did not do), leaving Shelby in a financial lurch.

And now in the article, Millicent was claiming credit for the design, saying she’d always “had a natural instinct for it.”

Allan had told us that, given their contract, there wasn’t anything Shelby could do about it.

“I was counting on this,” she said sadly. “I thought it was going to launch my career.”

“I’m so sorry. You didn’t need her and her tacky animal-print rugs. You’re going to be a huge success.” I sighed, not wanting to let her down but knowing that this information could bolster her spirits. “And something happened tonight that might make you feel better, although I don’t want to get your hopes up, especially considering how badly this Millicent Nabors thing went.”

“What?”

“Noah Douglas’s house is a wreck, so I gave him your card and recommended you. His place is like if some supervillain from the 1970s was put into a cryogenic sleep and woke up today with the sole intent of decorating Noah’s home badly with a seventies flair. I’m talking green shag carpeting and yellow appliances, my friend.”

“Oh no. That’s terrible.” Her face crumpled slightly but then immediately brightened. “But yay that he might call me! I know it’s a long shot, but hey, a long shot is sitting across from me right now.”

I took a big bite of my ice cream. She wasn’t wrong.

Shelby studied me and then announced, “I feel like there’s something else you aren’t telling me.”

She knew me too well, and there was no way I’d be able to hide it from her. “There is.” I set down my spoon, and she widened her eyes. That gesture meant I was serious and she’d immediately understood it. “He said that he would like to see me, in his words, in a ‘non–dog grooming capacity.’”

“Like . . . a date? He wants to go out with you?” she squealed, bouncing up and down in her chair.

“Those were his exact words. Feel free to interpret them however you’d like.”

“Oh, you don’t want to say that.” She had her hands clasped to her chest, and her eyes had a dreamy, faraway look. “Because he was very obviously saying he wants to spend the rest of his life with you and now our double wedding is going to be even more fabulous. Can you imagine the kind of celebrities we’ll be able to invite?”