Killer whined, lay down, and set her chin on her front two paws. Like an angel.

Alison was boggled. “Seriously. How do you do that? Magic?”

“You have to mean what you say.”

“Can you teach me to do that?”

“Yes,” Emma said. “Mean what you say.”

Alison rolled her eyes.

AN HOUR LATER, Khloe took a break and asked Alison to cover the register because Emma was busy with Marco manning the full yards.

Alison looked at Emma.

“Deal with it,” her partner said.

Great. Fantastic. She’d deal with it.

A woman walked in, went directly to the cat aisle, picked out a small bag of food, and then came to check out.

“I’m also picking up my boy Kevin,” the woman said. “He’s a Pekingese.” She set the food on the counter.

Alison tried to ring up the food, but it wouldn’t scan.

“It’s on sale,” the woman said. “Nine ninety-nine.”

Alison shook her head. “This food is the highest-quality food we have in the place. It isn’t on sale.”

“Yes, it is.” The woman pointed to the sign over the basket of collars, adjacent to the food. “See? The sign says nine ninety-nine.”

“For the collars,” Alison said.

“But I’m not buying a collar. I’m buying gourmet cat food.”

“Which is nineteen ninety-nine.” Was she not speaking English?

Emma popped in from the back. She gave the customer a warm smile. “Mrs. McCreary, so nice to see you.”

“You too, honey. How are you doing?”

“Wonderful, thank you. How can we help you today?”

“Well, your helper here is trying to overcharge me.”

Emma glanced at Alison.

“The food’s not on sale,” Alison said.

Emma held up a finger to Mrs. McCreary and then pulled Alison aside. “Remember how we said we each have a lane?”

“Yes.”

“Is this your lane? Because you’re about to sideswipe us out of a customer.”

Alison sighed. “Fine.”

“And . . . ?” Emma asked.

Alison tossed up her hands. “And this one time you might be a little bit right.”

“I’m going to need that in writing. Framed. I’ll fix this while you first adjust the sign so it’s obvious that it’s for the collars. Then I need you to run to Costco real quick before you leave for Armstrong Properties.” She moved back to Mrs. McCreary. “So sorry about the mix-up.”

“You’ll honor your sign?” the woman asked.

“Of course.”

Alison opened her mouth, but Mrs. McCreary spoke first, beaming at Emma. “I love this place. My Kevin is so happy here, I can’t thank you enough. My favorite part’s being able to see him on the app when he’s in the play room. I’m going to my book club tonight and bowling league tomorrow—I’ll be sure to tell everyone they need to use your services.”

Emma glanced at Alison over her shoulder, her expression saying: Now do you see why the customer is always right? “I’ll have Marco bring out Kevin,” she said to Mrs. McCreary. “It will be just a few minutes.” She then gestured for Alison to follow her to the side. “Okay, so at Costco, you’ll—”

“Why aren’t you sending Khloe or Marco?”

“Because both Khloe and Marco are willing to scoop poop.” Emma looked at Alison’s expensive suit. “Somehow I think you’d rather make the Costco run.”

Alison grabbed her purse. “What do we need?”

“More cookies.”

“We have a bazillion varieties of dog cookies. And cat cookies. And bird cookies—”

“But we don’t have any human cookies. If you hurry, the Girl Scouts will still be selling right out in front of the store. I need a minimum of five boxes.”

Alison stared at her, then laughed. “I’m not your errand girl. And jeez, you’re awfully grumpy today. Let me guess, you still haven’t talked to Simon? Maybe you should make your own master plan.”

“I think we’re now officially in the avoiding-each-other phase, which actually takes talent considering we live in the same building.”

“Huh,” Alison said.

“Huh? That’s all you’ve got?”

“What were you hoping for?”

“Advice?”

Alison laughed. “You already know I’m even worse with men and relationships than I am with checking out customers.”

Again the bell above the front door jingled.

Killer began barking at decibels capable of piercing eardrums, sounding the alarm.

Alison and Emma moved back to the front. Alison drew a deep breath and channeled her inner Emma. “Killer, stop. Stop and sit.”

Killer did not stop and sit.

Emma looked at the little heathen. “Killer, stop and sit.”

Killer stopped. And sat.

“Ingrate,” Alison uttered as she and Emma both looked toward the door to check out their next customer.

It was Simon. He looked at Emma, who was suddenly doing a great imitation of a frozen Popsicle.

Alison grinned. Who said work was no fun? “Yeah, so . . . I’m going to go to Costco now. Bye.”

Emma defrosted enough to glance over at her. “No. Don’t you dare—”

Alison swept up Killer and left, chortling to herself the whole way.

Chapter 19

Step 19: Ask questions.

When her traitorous partner shut the back door behind her, Emma gritted her teeth, then forced a smile because she had nothing to feel bad about. Then the smile became real when Dale came into the shop behind Simon, waving a cast on his arm, but otherwise looking good.

Relieved to see him, she waved back, pretending not to see Simon—though how could she not; he looked tall, leanly muscled, and like everything she’d ever wanted in jeans and dark sunglasses, and he had an easy confidence that was hard to resist.

Mrs. McCreary, still waiting for Marco to bring out Kevin, smiled at Simon and Dale. “Hello.” She let her gaze linger on Dale. “While I’m waiting for Kevin, I’m just going to go browse through the dog training books on that shelf over there. I don’t suppose you know anything about training dogs?”