The next two weeks passed in a sleepy haze. Owning a dog was a new task for him, one that absolutely nobody had prepared him for. To date, little Harry—the nickname for Harold the Wolf Beaumont—had destroyed two pairs of slippers, a set of work shoes, one of his speakers, and four pairs of underwear. None of it was irreplaceable, but getting the dog to stop chewing and barking all night was the real problem.

Nothing that worked with humans worked with dogs. And when Connall realized this, he signed up for puppy training classes. Still, the education seemed to improve the situation only slightly. Just when it seemed like they’d made progress, another pair of briefs ended up shredded in the daylight.

Connall tried a puppy nanny at first, but soon decided that bringing the pup to work might ease some of the attachment issues.

“What is this, Bring Your Puppy To Work Day?” Deb giggled and approached Connall with her arms out to hold him. He passed Harry off, watching as she cooed and petted him.

“He’s a handful,” Connall said. “I wanted to keep an eye on him today while I was at work. Just while we’re training.”

“But he’s such a doll.” She cradled him against her chest, following Connall into his office. “You should bring him every day.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Connall set down the puppy items in a chair facing his desk: the leash, the poop bags, his color-coordinated water and food dishes. “We’ll see how he behaves.”

Deb bounced in the corner with Harry in her arms while Connall slid into his seat, checking messages. First order of business was to call Dale, who answered on the first ring.

“Connall, friend.” The greeting made Connall’s stomach plummet. Whenever he tried to be extra friendly, it meant things were tense.

“Dale. I got your message to call. Everything okay?”

“Sure, as okay as they can be. You have one week until this Rowland guy executes your grandfather’s will. And once he does, B3 Engines is at risk of a hostile takeover. Are you prepared?”

Connall sighed, watching as Deb set Harry down before she hurried out to her desk to answer the ringing phone. Harry sniffed around, acquainting himself with the new surroundings, his little tail wagging as he explored. “No. But I don’t know what else to do at this point. It’s too late.”

“Find a wife!”

Connall’s head hung. But if he found a wife, then he’d really be closing the door on Bernadette. He couldn’t imagine she’d be very interested in pursuing a relationship with him after ending his marriage of convenience.

“My grandmother will never believe it,” Connall said with a sigh. “Besides…” He pinched his eyes shut, unsure if he wanted to bring up Bernadette. Avoiding a sham marriage in the name of true love rang hollow in the face of losing his entire business and leaving hundreds of people unemployed. “I don’t have anyone to ask.”

“I spoke with your brother Gregor,” Dale said. Connall rolled his eyes—Gregor was firmly on board the train with a destination of sham marriage. He’d been pressuring Connall to shack up with someone, anyone, for months now. “He said your last girlfriend might fit the bill. She’s discreet enough not to out you, at least, is what he said. What do you say? Give it a whirl?”

Connall leapt to his feet when Harry started circling a patch of carpet near the far windows. That was his pre-peeing dance; he knew it well. “Deb! Can you come here?”

“Just give it some thought,” Dale insisted.

Deb poked her head in, gaze falling to the pup. “Yes?”

“Can you take Harry outside?” Connall scooped up the dog, passing him off quickly. “He has to go do his business. Quickly now.”

Deb rushed away, and Connall massaged his face.

“Everything okay over there? Sounds like Harry has a problem,” Dale said.

“Harry is my new dog,” Connall said, resting his hand on his hip. “Potty training is a bitch.”

“Well. Glad that’s cleared up. Now, what about this ex?”

Connall sighed. “I’ll call her. But I’m telling you—this is a pipe dream. Even if she agrees to it, we run the risk of my grandmother seeing right through it.”

“It’s better than not having tried,” Dale said.

The two said their goodbyes, and Connall stared out the window at the Seattle skyline, mulling over his options. From a purely business standpoint…it was worth a shot. If he called up an ex, he might be able to convince his grandmother. Rekindled romance, second chances, all that jazz. It could work.

But if you do this…Bernadette will never be yours.

This threat hung heavily on him. Sure, he was already facing a mostly null chance of winning her back. But there was still the possibility.

He’d been sending her emails every other day. She hadn’t responded yet, but these things took time. She might respond someday, or maybe she’d just show up on his doorstep out of the blue. Patience was his friend with these matters. And he had faith.

Connall flipped his phone over in his hands almost a hundred times before he opened the contact list. He still had Jennifer’s number in his phone, the ex who Gregor and Dale wanted him to call up. He stared at it for a moment before pressing Call.

She picked up just before it flipped to voicemail. “Connall?”

He steeled his jaw. They hadn’t spoken in almost a year. Though they’d parted on friendly terms, the nature of this call suddenly felt so absurd he almost hung up. “Jenn. Long time no talk.”

She laughed nervously. “Yeah. Extremely long time. Is everything okay?”

Connall grimaced. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m calling because I have a…a proposition for you. It might sound crazy, but I’d like you to hear me out.” When Jenn agreed, Connall launched into the most concise summary possible of his current predicament. She listed respectfully, and when he wrapped it up with, “So, I’m looking for someone to marry. Just to save the business,” she didn’t even hang up on him.

“Wow.” Jennifer sounded thoughtful, at least. “This is certainly a situation you have here.”

“I’m being upfront about it. I want you to have no illusions. This is a very specific situation for a very specific purpose. I know it’s not romantic, or ideal, or maybe even fun. But, well, you already know my family. You fit in well here. It would make sense.”

Jennifer hummed appreciatively. “Well, I have been thinking recently about how necessary it really is for true love to be this burning, consuming thing. Maybe it’s enough just to be with someone who respects you and wants a specific goal. I mean, I do want to start a family. But I don’t need that over-the-moon love that makes people go crazy.”

His chest tightened. You have that for Bernadette.

“Let’s talk about this more. I’m very interested.” Jennifer paused. “Can we grab dinner tonight and chat?”

“Absolutely.” Connall fumbled to write down a place and time when she named it; he hung up with her just as Deb came rushing in.

“Connall, oh my God, I am so, so sorry.” Deb was out of breath, leaning in the doorway. “Harry got away. He was off like a bullet. I couldn’t stop him!”

Panic flooded him, replacing the slight twinge of hope that Jenn’s conversation had instilled in him. “Bloody hell. Did you see where he ran?”

“Away,” Deb wailed. “I called and ran after him, but he just darted under a fence and was gone. I’m so sorry! Please don’t fire me!”

“Fuck.” Connall leapt to his feet, barreling out the door past Deb. “You’re not fired. Just stay here, I’m going to go look for him!”

Connall bolted through the building, only remembering his forgotten coat once his feet hit the asphalt of the parking lot. His voice tore through the cool air as he called out for Harry. He ran across the parking lot, scouring all the fences in the vicinity, calling Harry’s name as often as he could. He peered between cars and behind bushes, panic swelling with every passing second. No response, no barking, no nothing.

Fuck fuck fuck. Harry was a helpless puppy. Connall had sworn to protect him, and within the first two and a half weeks of life with him, he was lost already. Good thing Bernadette isn’t here to see this. She’d never take you back.

Connall wandered the streets frantically, searching in the most unlikely places for the pup. Passersby probably thought he was nuts. Shouting “Harry!” into the void and darting around like a madman. With no coat, on top of it all.

But it didn’t matter. He needed to find this dog. He wandered until his feet hurt, and only when the sun began to creep downward did he realize he had been searching for hours. He checked his watch: nearly three p.m. He’d been crazed and desperate, his search for Harry partly a chance to subconsciously stew over the pending meeting with Jennifer and all the ways in which he missed Bernadette.

Connall slowed to a stop miles away from the office. His feet hurt, the cold had finally broken through the sheen of sweat generated by his hustle, and his phone was back on his desk. Maybe he should just give up.

He heard yips from a small park across the street. A few dogs romped together while an owner looked on. Connall headed that way, burying his hands in his pockets to keep them warm.

A bigger dog was tumbling around, inviting a small puppy to play. And when Connall got closer, he recognized that tawny pup.

“Harry!”

The pup turned at his name and bounded toward Connall with what looked like glee, his tongue flopped out to one side. Connall laughed maniacally, scooping the dog into his arms. The man nearby lifted a brow. “He yours?”

“Yes! I’ve been looking for him for hours.” Connall’s breath caught when he smelled the pooch. Pure garbage and who-knew-what, but good lord, the dog was safe. “I thought I’d lost him forever.”

“Cute dog. Someone would have snatched him up for sure.” The owner called his own dog, and they wandered off. Connall held Harry up to get a good look at him. The dog was the embodiment of pure joy. He’d run off, had his adventures, romped in forbidden places, smelled exotic scents. The definition of paradise for a young pup.

The type of day that Connall wouldn’t, and couldn’t, ever give him. Yet the dog had survived.

Connall tucked Harry under his arm, starting a jog back to the office. Bernadette lived a life unlike anything Connall could give her. She was the adult, female, human Harry, and she loved it. Despite the risks and the garbage and the snarling wild beasts crawling below her living space—she loved it. And Connall only wanted her to abandon it to appease his own need for security.

Connall pushed himself to a run as he returned to the office, spurred on by his spiraling thoughts. The revelation trembled huge before him, so juicy and bulbous he could choke on it.

The difference between him and Bernadette wasn’t her needing to live a different life, it was his own inability to accept that life.

If he wanted Bernadette, he had to take her on her own terms. No Seattle penthouse, no relocation to work with a zoo, no stolid research labs buried in a safe and humming university just so Connall could avoid the ugly truth: that Bernadette lived in the wild.

If he wanted her, he needed to go to her.

It took Connall almost half an hour to get back to the office at a brisk jog. His alligator shoes were scuffed and soiled beyond recognition when he burst back into the building. Chest heaving, he burst through the doors of his office. Deb cried out when she saw him.

“I thought you both were dead!”

He laughed, setting Harry down to wander his office once more. “Oh, no. We just went on an unexpected adventure. One that took a bit longer than we thought.”

“You left your phone here. Someone named Jennifer called confirming a dinner meeting. And you have a few other messages waiting for you on the desk.”

“Ah. Yes.” Connall rested his hands on his hips, studying the floor. His long-sleeved button down, normally crisp and bright white, had huge armpit stains and unidentified smears across the front. “Call her back, please, to cancel that dinner meeting. Tell her I’ve changed my mind. We shouldn’t meet, and I apologize for the confusion.”

Deb left to make the call while Connall sank into his office chair, smiling over at Harry chewing on a toy.

“So, Harry. You never told me if you can go on a plane as a dog. We have a very important trip to Montana next week.”

Harry’s toy squeaked loudly in response.