Moonlight Over Manhattan

“You’d be doing me a favor. It’s easy to talk to you, and I could use the company.”

“Harriet Knight, you’re such a sweet girl.”

Harriet winced. “I don’t want to be a sweet girl. I want to be a badass.”

Glenys laughed. “That word sounds plain wrong coming from your lips.”

“What do you mean? I said the F word last Saturday. When I landed in a heap and bust my ankle—I said it. Out loud, in public. They probably heard me in Washington Square.”

“Shocking, but it’s not enough.” Glenys gave a placid smile and put her fork down. “Now, if you’d grabbed that sexy doctor and planted one on him, that might have improved your badass credentials.”

“Fliss said the same thing. Are you two colluding? I’ll say what I said to her—he would have had me arrested for assault.” As it was, he’d seemed surprised at some of the things she’d said. As if he’d been expecting something different.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to work in a department like that. In the short time she’d spent in the waiting room, she’d heard people yelling abuse and several of them had been drunk. It had made her feel more than a little uncomfortable. How must it feel to handle that day after day? That was one of the things she loved most about working with dogs. They were always so thrilled to see you. There was nothing better than a wagging tail to lift the spirits, nothing more motivational than an excited bark. Dr. E. Black didn’t have that when he went to work. She suspected there was a distinct shortage of wagging tails in his life.

She watched as Glenys finished the omelet, policing every mouthful. Then she got Harvey ready for his walk. She maneuvered him into his little red coat, attached his leash and helped Glenys find her coat and her gloves.

It was true that if she’d taken the dog on her own the walk would have been finished in half the time, but that wasn’t what life was about for Harriet.

Glenys needed to maintain her independence and no one else was going to help her.

They walked slowly down the street, admiring the decorations in the store windows.

“I love this time of year.” Harriet slid her arm through Glenys’s. “It’s so buzzy and exciting.”

Glenys was concentrating on where she put her feet. “At my age, it’s just another day.”

“What? No, you can’t think that way. I won’t let you. I hope you’ve written to Santa.”

“Does he deliver new hips or new husbands?”

“Maybe. If you don’t write, you’ll never know.”

“Maybe I should try online dating.”

“It didn’t work for me, but no reason why it shouldn’t work for you. Go for it, but don’t ask me for help with your profile. I’m too honest. You need to present yourself as a twenty-year-old pole dancer.”

Glenys tightened her grip on Harriet’s arm. “Next time, I’m writing your profile. No more nice girl Harriet. How are your adventures going? What was today’s challenge?”

She’d told Glenys about her determination to stretch herself.

“I called someone who is always rude to me.” She was careful not to mention any names. “Normally Fliss does it.”

“If she’s rude, why do you keep her as a client?”

“I never said she was a client.”

“Honey, life is too short to hang on to friends who are rude to you so it has to be a client.”

“She has two dogs and a huge network of wealthy friends. Fliss says we can’t afford to lose her.” Although if it had been left to Harriet she would have done exactly that months ago. Life was too short to have rude clients too.

“So you let her say bad things to you?”

“It’s not that she says bad things, exactly. It’s more that she’s one of those people who thinks no one can possibly understand how busy and appalling her life is. So she is infuriated when I talk slowly. But I’m afraid of speeding up in case I stammer.” Harriet paused as they passed a side street. “She makes me feel small. Not small as in slim and attractive. Small as in less. She makes me feel incompetent, even though I know I’m not. She reminds me of Mrs. Dancer, my fourth grade teacher.”

“I’m assuming that’s not a good thing.”

“I wasn’t the type to talk much in class, so she used to single me out. Harriet Knight—” she imitated Mrs. Dancer’s sarcasm “—I presume you do have a voice? We’d all love to hear it.”

“I don’t see why not talking all the time should be a disadvantage in life.”

But Harriet wasn’t listening. She was looking at the man huddled against the wall next to a Dumpster. She looked at his shoulders, hunched against the wind, and at the defeated look on his face. “Billy?” She checked that Glenys was steady on her feet, and hurried across to him. “I thought I recognized you. What are you doing here?” She crouched down and put her hand on his arm.

“Trying to stay warm.”

“It is a cold one. Tonight is going to be worse. Can you go to the shelter? Anywhere?” She dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out a couple of granola bars. “Can I get you a hot chocolate? Tea?” She talked to him for a while, fetched him tea from the food cart nearby.

When she finally returned to Glenys, her friend was frowning.

“Didn’t your mama teach you not to talk to strangers?”

“Billy isn’t a stranger. I see him every time I walk Harvey. He used to be a university professor, then he had an accident and became addicted to painkillers.” Was that why the doctor in the ER had made a point of telling her he wouldn’t write her a prescription? Presumably he knew how easy it was for pain management to turn to addiction. “He lost his job, couldn’t pay medical bills.”

“How do you know all that?”

“We started talking one day in the summer when I was walking Valentine, Molly’s Dalmatian.”

“So you can’t talk to a guy you’re dating, but you can talk to a stranger on the street?”

“He wasn’t exactly a stranger. I have been walking past him every night for eight months. We always said hello. He was so polite. Then we started saying more than hello. I got to know him a little. Do you know that sometimes, when it’s freezing cold, he rides the train all night, from the Bronx to Brooklyn? How sad is that.” It depressed her that people had to do that to stay warm in New York’s freezing winter. To stay alive. “Anyone can end up homeless.”

“You must have talked to him for a long time to know so much.”

“I did. He was lonely.” She paused. “And I guess I was a little lonely too. I was getting used to being in the apartment without Fliss.”

Glenys patted her on the arm. “You miss her. I understand. I miss my Charlie. It’s the little things, isn’t it? Charlie always used to make the coffee in the morning. Now I do it and I can never get it quite right. And he fixed anything that went wrong in the apartment. He was handy like that.”

Harriet realized she had to stop moaning.

Glenys had suffered a serious loss. She hadn’t lost Fliss. Her sister was still in her life.

“I do miss her, but it was always going to happen one day. The alternative would have been living together until we were ninety, sharing false teeth, and that wouldn’t have been great, either. Since Fliss moved out, I don’t have anyone to cook for.” She didn’t confess that some days she made huge batches of her chocolate chip cookies, or her granola bars, and distributed them to anyone who was interested. And she knew, with brutal honesty, that she was doing it as much for her as for them. She needed to feel needed, and since Fliss had moved out and Daniel had become involved with Molly, she rarely felt needed. She missed having someone to fuss over, to cook for and nurture. There were few people she felt able to admit that to, but Glenys was one of them. “I’m not ambitious in the way Fliss is. I mean, I love our business, but what I love about it is the lifestyle. The dogs. Being outdoors. Doing something I love. Fliss likes the success of it, the growth, the bottom line. We’re different like that.”

“You’re different in lots of ways. Fliss is always in a hurry. She never has time to chat the way you do.”

Harriet sprang to the defense of her sister. “Because she’s building the business. We have the Bark Rangers because of her.”

Glenys stopped walking and Harriet looked at her in alarm. “What’s wrong? Is your hip hurting?”

“No. Right now it’s my heart that’s hurting, and you’re the one hurting it. Your problem is that you don’t see your own qualities.” Glenys waggled her finger. “The Bark Rangers is as much about you as it is about your sister.”

Fliss had said the same thing.

“It was her idea. She’s the one who handles all the new business.”

“But why do you think people come to you for dog walking? Because of you.” Glenys patted her arm. “Because everyone in Manhattan with a brain and a dog knows that Harriet Knight is the person they want. Customer service. Individual attention. Caring. That’s what it’s about. That’s why the Bark Rangers is a success. You are to dog walking what Tiffany’s is to jewelers. You are diamond and white gold. The best.”

Harriet was touched and ridiculously flattered. “What do you know about Tiffany’s?”

“I was young once. I used to stand outside that store dreaming, like so many women before me. And then Charlie made my dreams come true. And he didn’t do it by walking into Tiffany’s and spending all his money. Love isn’t a diamond. You can’t buy what we had, and that’s what you want too. Love. Nothing wrong with that, honey. You show me the person who doesn’t want love in their life, and I’ll show you a liar.” Glenys started walking again, Harvey trotting by her side.

“What makes you so wise?”

“Age and experience.”

After two blocks Harriet insisted they turn round, afraid that Glenys might overdo it.

“It’s enough for one day. I don’t want to tire you out, and I have another dog to walk before I go home.”

“Are you sure you should be doing this much walking?”

“I’m doing a favor for a client who has had a family emergency. She has left Madi, her dog, with her brother and I promised to walk him. This was fun. We’ll do it again tomorrow.”

“If my joints haven’t seized up. So what are you doing for the holidays, pumpkin? Have you decided?”

Harriet kept her eyes straight ahead. “You’re coming. I’m already planning the menu.”

Glenys gave her a keen look. “You’re not staying with Fliss?”

“She’s invited me, but I don’t know Seth’s family and it’s their first Christmas all together and I know Fliss is a little nervous—”

“All the more reason to have you there.”

“No.” Harriet shook her head. “She doesn’t need her twin, she needs Seth. She has a new family now.”

“You don’t throw out your old family just because you have a new one. You blend them together, like that cookie mixture you’re so good at.”

“For some things, yes, but not always and at Christmas it feels like an intrusion. And it will be good for me to spend Christmas without my family. I’m way too dependent on them. I’ll probably watch back-to-back Christmas movies and gorge myself on unhealthy food. I’m hoping you’ll join me.”

“What about your grandmother? Can’t you stay with her?”

“I’m staying right here. I’ll still be walking dogs if people need me. Providing the snow isn’t too bad.” She glanced up at the sky. “Do you think they’ll be right this time? Will it be a big fall?”

“Maybe. It’s the holidays, Harriet. At your age you should be out partying.”

“I can hurt my ankle when I’m not partying. Imagine the damage I could do if I started partying. Never been much of a party person, Glenys. You’re talking to the woman who can’t even walk confidently in high heels.”

“I worry about you coming out here alone at night. It isn’t safe.”

“That’s good. I’m trying to be less safe. Stepping out of my comfort zone. Is Darren coming to see you at all over the holidays?”

“Not this year. He’s going to visit Karen’s parents in Arizona. They’ll probably cook the turkey by leaving it out in the sun for half an hour.” They’d reached Glenys’s apartment block and the doorman smiled and held the door open.

“Please come to me.” Harriet gave her a quick hug. “It will be so much fun. Bring Harvey.”

“You’re a kind girl, Harriet Knight, but you don’t want to spend your holidays with a creaky old bird like me.”

“I do. And if you can’t come to me, I’ll bring the turkey to you. One creaky old bird to another.”

“You’re a soft touch.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I know—” Glenys nudged her “—we could both slip on the ice and spend Christmas Day in the emergency room with that sexy doctor of yours. It’s warm, and we’d have plenty of good company.”

“He’s not my sexy doctor, and I don’t think he’d be amused to see me twice in the same month.”

But if Santa wanted to drop a man like him down her chimney, that really would make for a perfect Christmas.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE SNOW CONTINUED to fall.

In the emergency room, Ethan was busier than ever.

Before he’d left for work, his sister had arrived at his apartment with Madi. He’d been surprised by how calm and well behaved the dog was. Over Thanksgiving her behavior had been close to manic but his sister assured him she’d been overexcited because of the number of people in the house.

It was certainly true that today she seemed like a different dog.

If she carried on like this, they just might make it through.

“So the dog walker—”

“Her name is Harriet, Ethan. Why are you so bad with names?”

“Because people move through my department so quickly I don’t need to remember them. I don’t care about their names or their ambitions. I fix them. That’s it. So Harriet—” Harriet, Harriet, he repeated to himself “—will be coming twice a day? What about snow? Is that going to keep her away?”

“She has never let me down in two years. She’ll be here. I stopped by her apartment on the way here and gave her your key.”

“You gave my key to a stranger. Thanks.”

“She’s not a stranger. She’s a lifesaver—yours. Make sure you’re home to meet her later.”

Satisfied that Madi’s needs were going to be met by someone, if not by him, Ethan focused on his work.

His first patient was a forty-five-year-old male who had suffered chest pains while shoveling snow.

The first responders at the scene had already transmitted the twelve-lead EKG. Someone showed it to Ethan and he instructed them to page the on-call interventional cardiologist.

Moments later the man arrived in the department.

“I was clearing the snow from the steps and I started to feel funny,” he told Ethan. “My chest was kind of tight, like someone was squeezing it. And I thought I was being a wimp, so I carried on. But then my wife appears at the top of the steps and she says, ‘Mike, you’re whiter than the damn snow.’ She called 911.”

“Good decision. I’ve already checked the EKG the first responders sent through and it shows that you’re having a heart attack.” Ethan saw the fear in the man’s eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re in good hands, Michael. We’re going to take good care of you and I’ve called the cardiologists.” He turned to the team. “Can we get a repeat EKG? We need two large-bore IVs and let’s get him on a nitro drip. We need to prepare him for the cath lab.” He turned back to his patient, explained what was happening and questioned him carefully.

“I can’t believe it’s my heart. I feel pathetic. It was just a bit of snow. How the hell can this happen?”

“You’re underestimating the physical demands of shoveling snow, especially heavy snow like the storm we had last night.” Ethan slotted his stethoscope into his ears and listened to the man’s chest. “It can be as demanding as a sprint, except that clearing snow usually lasts longer. Maybe a better comparison would be a heavy session on the treadmill. And the combination of cold and physical exertion increases the load on your heart. You probably had a spike in your blood pressure. At least you had the good sense to stop and call 911. We see plenty of folks who keep going, who think they’re being weak and don’t stop. You stopped. That was smart.”

“You’re sure it’s a heart attack?”

Ethan showed him the EKG. “This shows that you’re having what we call a STEMI. That stands for an ST Elevation Myocardial Infarction. We’re going to keep you attached to a heart monitor for now and send you for an angiogram.”

They prepared him for transfer to the cardiac catheterization lab, placing a portable monitor and oxygen tank on the bed.

One of the less experienced interns looked stunned. “Shoveling snow? If he’d been a walk-in I would have assumed he’d pulled a muscle.”

“If someone comes in with chest pains after they’ve been shoveling snow, assume it’s a heart attack. He needs PCI in the cardiac catheterization lab. We aim for a door-to-balloon time of ninety minutes or less.”

“Ethan? Could you take a look at this?” The triage nurse called him over and Ethan moved on to the next patient.

It was a busy day. His mind was taken up by the demands of his job. His patients.

He didn’t give his sister or her dog a single thought.

HARRIET TUGGED HER wool hat further over her ears and checked the address twice. Normally she picked Madi up from Debra’s house, but her client was flying to the West Coast for a couple of weeks to deal with a family emergency and had left Madi with her brother. He lived in the West Village, which was technically out of the area the Bark Rangers covered, but Harriet told herself this was an exception. She went where her clients went, and if Madi was staying in the west side of lower Manhattan then that was where Harriet would go. It would require some redesigning of her schedule because she wouldn’t be able to handle the walks on the Upper East Side, but they had enough dog walkers in that area to ensure that she should be able to accommodate this latest change of plan.

The temperature had plummeted and an icy wind bit through her clothing. The promised snow had finally started falling.

Harriet was wearing her weatherproof coat and her weatherproof trousers, but still she was shivering.

Debra wanted Harriet to walk Madi twice a day, every day.

“My brother is wonderful and I adore him, but he has no clue about dogs. I’ve promised him you will walk Madi and do whatever is needed. He’s a doctor. Busy. I don’t want Madi to be a bother.”

Knowing Madi as well as she did, Harriet didn’t hold out much hope in that direction.

It wasn’t that Madi was a bother exactly, more that she was acting in a way representative of the breed. Madi was a spaniel, a working dog, intelligent and inquisitive. Harriet adored her, but she hadn’t found her particularly adaptable. She wasn’t convinced she would respond to a change of environment as smoothly as Debra was anticipating.

It was probably a good thing Debra’s brother was a doctor. Presumably he’d be patient and caring and adept at handling difficult situations.

Someone patient and kind was exactly what Madi needed to help her settle into her new home.

She checked the address again. This part of Manhattan was a maze of winding streets. There were bookstores and bistros, bars and coffee houses. It was an area rich in history, with cobblestone streets lined with brownstones and beautiful town houses. It was also an easy place to get lost.

According to Debra, her brother lived in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom duplex loft apartment.

By the time Harriet found the apartment block, the light was fading and the tips of her fingers were numb.

She planned to take Madi for a half-hour walk, although she wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. Not only was her ankle throbbing, but it was never great for the dogs when it had been snowing. The streets were mucky and winter was always hard on the dogs’ paws. She constantly thought about the dogs, about their welfare and what she could do to make their lives the best they could be.

Fliss said it was the reason they had a thriving client base, but Harriet never thought about that side of it. She didn’t do it for the owners, she did it for the animals. Their comfort and happiness was what mattered to her and if that led to a happy owner, then that was a bonus.

Snow or no snow, Madi needed the exercise. Debra had given her the key, and the moment she opened the door to the apartment she knew something was wrong.

She’d fostered enough pets to sense disaster when it was close by.

She had no idea what the apartment looked like normally, but she guessed it was nothing like this.

Cushions lay scattered on the floor, their stuffing surrounding them like clouds. Toilet paper was festooned over the furniture like giant ribbons.

Staring at the mess in dismay and disbelief, Harriet walked through to the kitchen.

There, on top of a mound of dried pasta sat Madi, looking guilty.

“Oh dear. Did you do this? All by yourself? Boy, are you in trouble, young lady. And a bag of flour too. You’ve been busy.” Harriet eyed the snow-like substance covering everything in sight. She dropped her bag, dragged off her hat and her coat and tried to work out where to start. Take the dog out first? Clear up?

She decided that Madi had to be her priority. She’d never known the animal to behave badly before, which had to mean she was distressed. Clearing up could wait. “Poor Madi. What happened? Were you bored? Scared? Is this a very strange place?” She stooped to make a fuss over the dog. She pulled her onto her lap and removed pieces of pasta from her fur. “Don’t worry. I’m here now and everything is going to be fine.”

“I don’t think so. In fact I’d say everything is far from fine.” An icy voice came from the doorway and Harriet turned her head quickly. She hadn’t heard anyone else enter the apartment, and neither had Madi, who wriggled off her lap and bolted for safety, scattering pasta and rice.

The man in the doorway topped six foot, the collar of his long coat turned up against the bitter winter chill, his eyes a steely blue.

Blue eyes. Ice-blue, to go with the icy voice.

She recognized those eyes, and the handsome face, and her heart skipped a beat. It made her feel a little dizzy, but she was comforted by the fact that if she collapsed in front of him he’d know what to do about it.

Why hadn’t it occurred to her that Debra’s brother might be the doctor who had treated her?

Dr. E. Black.

Not Edward, but Ethan.

Broad shoulders hunched, he scanned the wreckage of his kitchen and his living room with incredulity. “What the hell happened here?”

It was a fair question but she wished he’d asked it in a less threatening tone.

Harriet dragged herself back from the land of dreams to uncomfortable reality.

“I’m guessing Madi didn’t appreciate being left alone all day in a strange environment. The poor thing was scared.”

“The ‘poor thing’? What about my poor apartment?”

He strode into the apartment, slamming the door behind him. The noise echoed around them and was the final straw for Madi, who fled behind the kitchen island.

Harriet was about to go to her when there was a knock on his door. Cursing under his breath, Ethan went back to it and dragged it open.

A woman stood there. Harriet guessed she was in her seventies. Her hair was the color of the bag of flour Madi had just exploded over the floor and walls. She was slightly bent and barely reached Ethan’s chest, but the look she gave him was fierce.

“Dr. Black.” She peered at him over the top of her glasses. “We appreciate how hard you work and your contribution to society. I’d even go so far as to say you’re something of a hero around here, but that doesn’t change the fact that your dog has been howling all day. I’m sorry, but we cannot tolerate it.”

“Howling?” His bemused response made it clear he had no idea how a dog might respond if left alone in a strange apartment all day.

Harriet knew.

She looked questioningly at Madi, who looked back with sorrowful eyes.

“Howling. It has driven us all crazy. As you know, well-mannered dogs are allowed in this building, but—” She broke off, her attention caught by something over his shoulder. “Oh my—whatever has happened?”

“I have yet to work that out, Mrs. Crouch. When I find out, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Have you had a break-in? An intruder? Because—”

“No break-in. My intruder has four legs. He’s my sister’s dog. She had to fly to San Francisco because my niece has been in a serious accident. I’m helping her out.”

Harriet frowned.

Did he not realize Madi was a girl?

Mrs. Crouch seemed to soften a fraction. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know how close you are to your family. How is she doing?”

“I haven’t called the hospital yet. I’m going to do that in a moment.” He raked his fingers through his hair, still damp from the snow. “I apologize for the howling, it won’t happen again. I understand your frustration and I share it. I’d be grateful for your patience while I fix this, and you have my word that I will fix it.”

Mrs. Crouch melted. She patted him on the arm. “Don’t you worry, Dr. Black. We can cope with a little howling if that’s what it takes. Call your sister. You must be worrying to death. I’m sorry to have bothered you at such a difficult time.”

Harriet blinked. He’d turned her from attack to apology with a few sentences.

He probably had a wealth of experience dealing with difficult situations in the emergency room, but still that was a particularly smooth performance. He’d been kind, polite and caring.

The man was wasted as a doctor. He should be a hostage negotiator.

Which was a relief, because for a moment there he’d made her a little nervous.

By the time he finally closed the door again, Harriet had relaxed a little. That feeling lasted until he turned back to her and she saw that the dangerous glint in his eyes was back.

Whatever restraint had prevailed when he’d talked to his neighbor appeared to have abandoned him. And she knew why. Mrs. Crouch wasn’t the focus of his anger.

That seemed to be reserved for Harriet, although she had no idea why he should be holding her responsible. She wasn’t the one who had burst the bag of flour and thrown pasta and toilet paper around his apartment.

Whatever the reason, he was angry, and she wasn’t good with angry men.

Part of her wanted to follow Madi and hide behind the sofa but she stood her ground and reminded herself that he had reason to be a little annoyed, but he shouldn’t be angry with her.

“You’re the dog sitter my sister talked about?” His words were clipped and she swallowed.

“I’m not a sitter. I’m a dog walker, and yes, I’m—”

“So if you’re a dog walker, why didn’t you walk the damn dog?”

It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

Harriet had to force herself to inhale. “Excuse me?”

“If your job was to walk the dog, why didn’t you do it?” The anger in his voice rattled her composure so badly it took her a moment to respond.

“I arrived five minutes before you did. My plan was to take Madi out and then clear up.”

“Two walks.” He spoke between his teeth, as if he didn’t dare move his lips in case a torrent of heated words flowed out and scalded them both. “Debra said she’d arranged for you to walk the dog twice a day.”

“That’s true, but she told me not to come this morning because she’d make sure Madi was walked and settled before leaving her.”

He scanned the rooms, his expression one of naked incredulity. “Does she look settled to you?”

Madi whined.

“Could you lower your voice? You’re making her nervous.” Not only Madi. Ignoring the fact that her heart was thumping and her palms were sweaty, she stood up and crossed the room to Madi. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t be scared. There’s nothing to be scared of.” She was talking to herself as much as the dog.

“It most certainly is not ‘okay.’ What did you say your name was again?”

It felt a little better with Madi in her arms. She could feel the warmth of her body through her sleek fur. The rapid pounding of her little heart. She was sure hers was doing the same.

“Harriet. Harriet Knight.”

“Well, Miss Knight, I have had a long and testing day so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not altogether delighted to return home and find my apartment trashed.”

“I wouldn’t describe it as trashed exactly—”

“No?” He stared at the pasta that carpeted the floor. “How would you describe that? What even happened to it?”

“I’m guessing she was interested in the contents of the bag so she decided to take a closer look. While she’s living with you it’s probably a good idea to put food away in the cupboards so it’s secure. I’ll deal with it.” Technically it wasn’t part of her job, but she didn’t want him to be angry with Madi.

“And what happens tomorrow?” He prowled across the apartment, advancing on her with an ominous sense of purpose. “And the day after that? Am I going to be coming home to this every day?”

“I d-d—” She tried to respond but she couldn’t get the word out. It was stuck. Blocked. Horror washed over her. Horror and embarrassment. Had that really just happened? Yes, it had. She’d stammered. After all these years of never stammering once, she’d stammered. She tried again. “I d-d-d.”

No. No!

Madi gave a yelp of protest and Harriet realized it was because she was squeezing the dog a little too tightly.

She relaxed her grip and forced herself to breathe.

Why had this happened now? But she knew the answer to that, of course. It was because Ethan Black was yelling at her. She wasn’t good with angry people. Or maybe the stress of continually pushing herself out of her comfort zone was getting to her. Yes, maybe it was that.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have noticed her speech issues. He was too preoccupied by the mess in his apartment.