How come she hasn’t been adopted yet?” Luke asked Finley the next morning when they were alone in the workroom. As if he didn’t already know the answer. Any person with a brain cell would take one look at the pictures they’d posted of Agatha and recognize that the puppy was crazy.

He was sitting at his desk. Once again, Agatha was napping on his shoe.

Finley stood nearby wearing bell-bottom jeans, a wide leather belt, and a gray V-neck shirt. The stone beads of her long necklace dipped to a big piece of turquoise shaped like a teardrop. She’d placed her assigned puppy in a sling across her chest. Her puppy slept most of the time and never made a sound. “We’re still getting the word out about Agatha,” she said. “She’ll be adopted very soon, I’m sure.”

“She arrived Tuesday and it’s Friday. You said puppies are always adopted in less than a week.”

“I said almost always in less than a week. It’s been three days.”

“That have felt like three weeks.”

“I’m in conversations with two different families about Agatha. They’re filling out paperwork so that we can confirm them to be reliable pet owners.”

“Reliable?” he asked, outraged. “You didn’t care about proving my reliability when you gave her to me.”

“I know you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” She adjusted the sling. “I have to be diligent about vetting the people I don’t know who apply to adopt our animals.”

He’d been working here for two-and-a-half weeks. Long enough to know that the animals received outstanding care. The workers and volunteers kept the place extremely clean. They ensured the dogs had food, rest, exercise, playtime, health screenings, and baths.

He’d known plenty of people who were dedicated to their jobs. But he’d never met anyone as dedicated to their job as Finley was. She worked hard.

“You might want to be less diligent,” he said. “Then you could find homes for more dogs.”

Her eyes flashed as she lifted her chin. “I’m not trying to get rid of them. I’m determined to find every one of them a loving, committed home. There’s a world of difference.”

“Find a loving, committed home for Agatha soon because I’m not doing this for more than a week. I’m tired and irritated—”

“Yes, I see that,” she said wryly.

“If she’s not adopted by next Tuesday, I’m quitting this job and moving to Montana.”

She rolled her lips in, as if trying to keep herself from smiling.

“This is not funny,” he growled.

“It is just a very tiny bit funny.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s famous for being so full of empathy?”

“I am! It’s just that I’m a complex individual. I can experience humor and feel a sense of empathy toward you simultaneously.”