Page 33 of Hello Stranger

She gave me a nod, handed over the bill, and that’s when I saw it had already been paid.

Lucinda.

What a menace.

That said, it was also six hundred dollars I didn’t have, so I wasn’t complaining.

Could Lucinda just buy my affection like that?

Today she could. I guess.

Next, I waited for the moment of truth with Peanut. When I saw him again, would I be able to see him?

What felt like a hundred years later, I had my answer.

Yes.

A tech brought him out and I saw for sure as the second the door opened: Peanut’s little mug. There it was. His giant liquid-brown eyes. His yellow fur and Lorax-style mustache that got lopsided after he’d been resting his chin on something. His feathery ears that never seemed to both point up—or down—at the same time.

Question answered.

I’d know that face anywhere.

In a second, Peanut was in my arms and licking me all over. His tail was going full blast, his body was wriggling, his little heart was jumping around in his chest. If he was mad about being abandoned for eight days, he certainly wasn’t holding a grudge.

Dogs were so good at forgiveness.

He alternated great-to-see-you licks with deep, soul-searching gazes—like he couldn’t believe his luck that I’d returned. And he wasn’t the only one feeling lucky. Because the only face I’d seen since the surgery just happened to be my very favorite one.

All to say, something about the feel of him—the softness of his fur, his salty, doggy smell, the unconditional love—made me start to cry right there in the waiting room.

Yeah. It was an emotional time.

I got started crying, and then… I couldn’t stop. Just stood there smiling and crying and cradling my little pal while he licked the salty tears off my cheeks over and over.

“Missed you, buddy,” I whispered, nuzzling his fur.

That’s when I looked up to see someone watching me. A man. A vet, from the looks of it. A tall, white-coated, tie-wearing vet with an up-and-back Ivy League haircut. He had his hands in his lab-coat pockets and just stood there, staring right at Peanut and me, taking in the sight.

And once again, Dr. Nicole was right because I could tell you without even putting his face pieces together that this guy was seriously handsome.

That must be its own brain system right there.

It was the way he stood there. The way he held himself. That haircut—so professional and competent. I’d always thought handsomeness must be all about facial features and shapes and mathematical proportions. And maybe it was. But this guy also just had a way about him—like he was commanding the room without even doing anything. Just standing there generating handsomeness like a sexy, living light-up statue.

Most people nowadays made me want to avert my eyes. The intensity of those puzzle-piece faces—the impossibility of it all—was physically uncomfortable, like a buzzing in my body.

But this guy? I couldn’t make myself look away. I took in the sight of him, and he did the same right back to me, for a good minute. Finally heturned and walked off down the hallway—hands in pockets and coattail trailing jauntily behind him like a male model on a runway—forcing me to note that Dr. Nicole was right yet again.

Because that man had one hell of a gait.

Holy shit.

It was love at first sight—and I couldn’t even see him.

Okay, I take it back. It wasn’tlove.

Loverequires actually having spoken to a person. At the minimum.

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