“Gah—my boots are going to get ruined,” she whined.
Jack shook his head with a sigh and said, “Get on.”
“What?”
He bent a little at the waist and gestured to his back. “Piggyback ride.”
Her mouth dropped open and she couldn’t stop the giggle. “Are you for real, Jack?”
“Hop on and shut up, Hal.”
She climbed onto his back, and he straightened and carried her to her building as if she were as light as a feather. She buried her cold nose in his warm neck, getting buzzed on the smell of soap and Jack, but he didn’t complain too much.
“Your nose is so cold,” he said.
“But your neck is so warm, I can’t help myself,” she replied, burying her nose a little deeper into his collar.
“Fine.”
When they finally reached her building, she climbed off his back and pulled a dollar out of her purse.
“For you, sir,” she teased, holding out the money. “Thank you for seeing me home.”
“A dollar?” He made a face, snatched the dollar from her fingers, and said, “I’m worth more than that, for the record, but I’ll take it.”
“Whatever. Just walk carefully the rest of the way, okay?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Worried about me?”
“You wish.” She raised her key fob and pulled open the door when it beeped. “More like I’m worried about you dying before I get my free vacation.”
Chapter
ELEVEN
Hallie exited out of the spreadsheet and glanced at the time: four thirty.
She’d worn date clothes to work that day, because she was meeting Alex for drinks and appetizers as soon as she logged out. She and Jack had gone out on two more meh dates that ended with them at Taco Hut, but after the last one, she’d started talking to a guy named Alex, and he seemed surprisingly promising.
He was an adorable blond real estate agent who was actually fun to text; witty and quick, just like Jack.
And when he’d called her, there had been flirty chemistry over the phone.
“Hallie.” Claire, the new receptionist, popped her head into Hallie’s office and said, “There’s a Ruthie Someone here to see you.”
“Oh, shit.”
The receptionist looked concerned. “I’m sorry, was I supposed to—”
“No, no, it’s a me thing, Claire. Can you please send her back?”
“Sure thing.”
Hallie breathed in deeply through her nose, and before she could even think, Ruthie ran into her office, closed the door behind her, and sat down in the guest chair. “What in the actual fuck, Hal?”
Ruthie didn’t look mad, or even sad. She looked . . . confused, maybe? She was wearing a long black dress, paired with a captain’s hat and red glasses—glasses through which she peered at Hallie.
Hallie tried to come up with good words. “Ruthie, I wanted to talk to you before you saw—”
“That all of your stuff is gone? Too late, bruh. I can’t believe you moved out.”
“Okay, here’s the thing—” Hallie started.
“It’s because of my allergies, isn’t it?”
“What?”
Ruthie said, “I know that you want a cat, Hallie.”
Hallie’s mouth snapped shut. She’d wanted a cat for a hot minute after splitting with Ben, but she’d literally never given it a thought since. “Oh, Ruthie, I don’t—”
“I get it, but can I at least go with you to pick it out?”
Hallie didn’t even know what to say. Except, “What?”
“Because I’ve always wanted a cat, too. If I were you, I would absolutely move out, too, if it meant that I could have one. But since I can’t, can I at least take a shit ton of allergy meds and tag along?”
“Um—”
“Oh, God.” Ruthie’s eyes got huge. “Was it something else? Was there some other reason that you’re moving out?”
“No, um, it’s just the, uh, the cat thing.”
* * *
? ? ?
“So you’re seriously going to the shelter with her tomorrow?”
Hallie grinned and raised her glass. “To cowardice.”
Alex raised his, as well, and said, “To cowardice. And cats.”
Hallie giggled; she was having a great time. She and Alex had downed a plate of nachos and were starting on mozzarella sticks, and they were both still having fun. She couldn’t believe it, but things felt kind of promising with him.