Page 48 of Dream Girl Drama

A whole lot of nail clicking and sniffing ensued and the next thing Sig knew, there was a bulldog headbutting him in the shin. He looked down to find two big brown eyes staring up at him. The entire row of his bottom teeth was on display, two incisors sticking up higher than the others—and he headbutted Sig again.

“Oh. Sig.” Chloe’s arms dropped from around his neck. “I think he’s trying to defend my honor.” She dropped into a kneel, taking the sides of the bulldog’s face in her hands. “Aren’t you, baby? Aren’t you, little man? Yes! Yes, you are!”

Pierre blinked up at Sig. Once, twice. As if to say,Your time is up, chump.

There’s a new guy in town.

“Okay, let’s back up.”

Sig raked a hand through his hair. Was he jealous of a dog? Yes. Yes, he was.

“Where the hell did you get Pierre, Chlo?”

“He belongs to my mentor’s ex-girlfriend. She moved to Berlin to play with the Philharmonic. And a cello player.”

“Why doyouhave him now?”

“Grace—that’s my mentor, who I love. Oh, Sig, she’s a force. Truly one of a kind. And she has an eighteenth-century harp crafted in France that feels like I’m playing silk. But she doesn’t want a dog. I think it’s painful because she misses her ex, you know? Even if she would never admit it. Anyway, I offered to take Pierre for a while.”

There was a lot to unpack here.

There always was when Chloe gave an explanation on anything.

He loved that about her. How she meandered on her way to the point, dropping him little hints about her day, how she felt about things, leaping between points and forgetting where she’d started. Loved her curveballs—such as showing up with a random bulldog. Classic Chloe Curveball. She loved to throw them.

Sometimes she missed her train stop and got lost in Boston—no joke, one time she’d called him from Logan Airport with no idea how she’d arrived there. Or she went dancing on a Saturday night and lost track of time, forgetting to text him her location and sending him into the early stages of a stroke. There was also the one time her smoke detector battery had died, resulting in a high-pitched beep that led her to think the building was on fire. That panicked phone call had almost turned his hair white and resulted in him putting the landlord’s number on speed dial.

Who knew what she’d throw at him next time? Sig didn’t know. He only knew he’d catch her curveballs as often as she wanted to throw them.

“First of all, great. I’m glad you like your mentor. Second... is this harp something you want?” He was already doing mental math. How much could it possibly cost? “Do you want the harp, Chloe?”

She gasped. “It’s not for sale, Sig.”

They’d see about that as soon as he was offered a new contract. The offer would be coming. Itwould. Although the locker room had been buzzing this morning with the continued rumors of a management change. Shit felt so up in the air, so uncertain, and he didn’t like it one bit. He wanted stability. A plan. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sig...” She seemed to be chewing something over. “Do you think I’m responsible enough to care for this dog?”

“It’s a little late to be questioning this now, isn’t it?” Sig joked, chucking her under the chin. When he saw she was seriously worried, however, he matched her solemn expression. “Do you want me to take the dog?”

“What? No! I’m keeping the dog. I figure... if I can prove to myself I’m a capable dog owner, maybe I can take on more responsibility elsewhere. You know?”

Something important and complicated was taking place in her head, but Sig knew from experience that she’d need to explain in her own time. He couldn’t rush her.

“Let’s start small. Has Pierre eaten?”

“Yes. He had a tofu teriyaki bowl from down the street. Gobbled it right up.”

“Okay, that’s fine for tonight,” he said, hiding his smile. “But tomorrow, you should probably pick him up some kibble.”

“Kibble.” She nodded vigorously. “I’ll need to write that down.”

“You know how to search locations on your phone.” He brushed his palm down the back of her head, rubbed a circle onto her back. “Find the closest pet store. When you get there, tell one of the employees what kind of dog he is, and they’ll recommend a brand.”

The wheels were turning. “I’m going to get him a bed, too. The biggest, most obnoxious one they have. Pink and purple. Princess in script across the back.”

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