It doesn’t take much to sit all alone at a counter, but try it when your gal at home just handed you the relationship check and you end up walking all night, end up at one of those big-windowed diners where anyone passing by can look in, only no one does, and it’s two a.m.
Fluffy is boxed and ready to go, so all Lissa has to do is pay the ransom: four nights/five days in the boarding kennel and an unexpected fee for something called “comfort services” that’s a little more than half the cost of a tolerable bottle of white wine.
Nobody recognized the reaper without his black-hooded cloak.
This is not America’s Next Top Best Friend.
I figured if I stared long enough at my phone, as it lay on the kitchen table in front of me, I could will it to ring.
