Page 71 of The Problem with Dating

Did you finally run into Nathan? I’d put on a bra to hear that story in person.

Yara

You never wear a bra.

Willow

Free the nip!

Avery

Ladies. Peter’s Café. NOW!

It took me about fifteen minutes to pull myself together and head to the café. It was no surprise I beat Willow. That girl was probably late for her own birth and would be fashionably late to her funeral.

Avery refused to tell me the news without Willow there, so we sat at our table near the front of the café taking in the commotion happening across the street at Alex’s restaurant.

“Someone’s having a weirder day than me,” Avery muttered. “It must be his karma for being rude to you.”

“Oh.” I shook my head. “I forgot to mention. We’re friends now. I think. Kind of. Maybe.”

Avery cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s a long story and happened about a week ago.”

“A week ago?!” She gasped, eyes wide. “How haven’t you told me this?”

“We don’t tell each other everything, Avery. It slipped my mind.”

She huffed. “Bull crap. Nothing slips your mind. You told me about that British guy saying your poop smelled like roses fifty times over.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

I didn’t exactly know how. My sister was right. I did tell her and Willow everything, but I hadn’t mentioned the night I’d spent at Alex’s apartment. I felt that if I spoke about it, it would somehow tarnish the special connection we’d had. I wanted to keep that safe in my heart. Our little secret for a little bit of time.

“Yara—”

“One second,” I said, holding up a hand.

My heart raced as I watched Alex interact with the dog in front of him. He wasn’t having the easiest time, and the poor dog looked highly stressed.

My chest felt tight as I stared at the commotion.

“I’m going to do it,” I said, placing my paper napkin on the table.

Avery gave me a stern look and pointed a finger my way. “Yara, don’t you dare. It’s none of your business.”

“It’s literally my business,” I urged as I looked out the huge window of the café. Alex was having a very aggressive conversation with a small Pomeranian pup. I wasn’t sure who was more stressed out, the man or the dog. Either way, divine intervention was needed, and it just so happened I was feeling quite divine that evening. I feared the little dog would have a panic attack if I didn’t step in. Same with Alex.

“It will only be a minute,” I told Avery. She gave me her “yeah right” look of disbelief. “Five minutes, tops.”

She leaned toward me, placed a hand against mine, and sighed. “Yara, not every dog is your responsibility. You’re off the clock.”

“A professional dog whisperer is never off the clock. With great power comes something, something, or whatever Spider-Man said.” I patted my sister’s hand and grinned. “Be right back.” I pushed myself away from the table and started toward the front door.

“Five minutes!” Avery shouted.

---