“No, though I still think you could use a lot more practice. I want to know if your uncle’s okay. From his fall earlier.”

Long pause. “How did you know about that?”

“Please just tell me.”

Another long pause, as if Alison was deciding how much to say. “He’s okay. Or at least he will be. Broken wrist, and a thankfully mild concussion.”

“And Simon?”

A much longer pause. “I think we need to set some rules for this business relationship. Such as hours. Eight to five sounds good. After that, and certainly after midnight, I’m unavailable. Goodbye—”

“No, don’t hang up! I need to know that Simon’s okay, that—”

“I’m going to do you a favor, by disconnecting and pretending this call never happened.”

“Alison, please.”

Alison sighed. “Okay, listen. First of all, Simon and I? We have our own rules. They involve trust and loyalty, and never talking out of turn. So if you thought I was the weak link and a cheap way to get deets on my family, you were wrong. And second . . .” She softened her voice. “Simon could have a limb literally falling off and he wouldn’t admit he wasn’t okay. And that’s as close to an answer as you’re ever going to get from me. Goodbye.”

“But—”

But nothing. Alison was gone.

“Dammit.” Emma reminded herself that she had her weekly PT later that day. All she had to do was make it until then and she could talk to Simon herself.

Morning took forever to arrive. When it did, the first thing she did was check her phone. Nothing. She went downstairs and knocked on Simon’s door. More nothing. Pushing away the hurt and unease of not hearing from Simon—which did not bode well for future social orgasms with him—she took yet another Uber, this time with Hog, and they went to Paw Pals. They were closed today in preparation for tomorrow’s soft opening. The “grand” opening would come next week. It was the first thing in Emma’s life she’d had to look forward to in a long time.

It was odd to think she had Alison to thank for that.

Her new partner was behind the counter on the computer, going through the books, setting everything up to suit her.

Emma walked toward the front desk, Hog following more slowly and cautiously, clearly looking for Killer.

“She’s not here today,” Alison told him. “She’s with her dad. You can relax.”

Hog did just that, plopping onto the floor at Miss Kitty’s feet in the sunny spot.

Emma turned to Alison. She’d heard the longing and hurt in her voice, which was interesting. Back in school, Alison had never revealed her personal feelings, ever. “Anything new on Dale?” Emma asked.

“No.”

Emma nodded, then looked around, realizing that as of today, she wasn’t just an employee anymore. She owned the place—well, half—and her heart squeezed. “Oh my God.”

Alison lifted her head. “What now?”

“I think I’m actually . . . happy.” Well, not 100% happy. Ninety percentish—same as her health. That last 10% was worrying about Dale.

And Simon.

“Well, good for you,” Alison said.

“No, you don’t understand. Happy is a rare commodity. We need to soak it all in. Take pictures so we never forget this moment. Quick,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Stop what you’re doing and fake a smile, we need a pic for our new memory board.”

Alison slid her a look that said she was probably not yet caffeinated and that Emma was giving her a headache. “I don’t think you understand the difference between want and need,” she told Emma. “Like, I want a nap, but I need to work. Another example—I also want abs, but I need food.”

Emma’s stomach grumbled. “You’re right. We should celebrate. With a big feast.”

“It’s seven A.M.”

“And?”

Alison shook her head.

Emma moved behind the counter and bent to the shelves beneath. “Hey, I left a bag of sour cream and cheese chips here, but it’s gone.”

“I ate it.”

Emma stared at her. “The whole bag?”

“If it’s not in a resealable bag, then it’s one serving.”

“Oh my God.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

“You owe me chips,” Emma said. “A whole bag.” She looked around. “And I was serious. I really think we can make something of this. Don’t you?”

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have dropped my entire savings into it.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but the gesture was wasted on Alison, who kept working.

“Stop staring at me” was all Alison said. “And celebrations are for successes. This is still a wait-and-see thing.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a buzzkill?”

“Many. And I’m so glad I learned about parallelograms in school instead of starting a business. It’s really coming in handy this week.” She looked up from the computer. “Also, subject change—coupons for Paw Pals for new clients. What do you think?”

“Genius,” Emma said, surprised.

“I’m going to remind you that you said that.”

“Actually, we could print a bunch of coupons and put them up all over town. You could even take one to Ryan.”

Alison blinked. “Why would I do that?”

“So he’d have an excuse to come see you here when he brings Killer in on his days with her.”

“Seems desperate.”

“Desperate times . . .”

“I’m not that desperate. I’m never that desperate.”

“If that’s true, I’m going to need the secret,” Emma said.

An alarm went off on Alison’s phone. She looked at it and swore very creatively.

“What is it?” Emma asked, heart kicking. “Simon? Dale?”

“No. I set a reminder for something.”

Emma gave her the go on gesture.

Alison rolled her eyes. “To . . .” She coughed and said, “Remembertobeniceandfriendlyandopen” at the same time.

Emma stared at her. “Was that even English?”

Her partner sighed. “I set the reminder to remember to be nice and friendly and open.”