yours.”
The tiny dog squirmed in Chloe’s arms as she watched the brooding man—her erstwhile fiancé—cross the length of the lobby and walk out the door in just three bold strides.
What just happened?
Wordlessly, she stared after him until the shelter manager cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said. “I guess that settles that. The dog is yours if you still want her.”
Chloe snapped back to the matter at hand. “I do. Definitely.”
Of course she still wanted the puppy. She was just having a hard time switching gears from being proposed to by a total stranger to once again thinking about the logistics of puppy ownership.
“That was weird, though, wasn’t it?” Chloe held the dog closer to her chest. The tiny animal smelled like shampoo and puppy breath, which was a comforting and welcome switch from the gritty aroma of Times Square. “Don’t you think so?”
“Um.” The shelter manager’s smile faded. “I really couldn’t say.”
“That’s right. You missed the crazy part.” The puppy started gnawing on Chloe’s thumb. Somewhere in her purse, she had a chew toy she’d purchased for a moment like this one, but she was too rattled to look for it. “He asked me to marry him.”
The shelter manager gave a little start. “Oh, I didn’t realize you and Mr. Kent knew each other.”
Kent.
So that was his name. It swirled through her thoughts like a snowflake until she found herself combining it with hers.
Chloe Kent.
Mrs. Chloe Kent.
Her face went hot. “We don’t. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
“Oh.”
Chloe sneaked a glance at his paperwork, still sitting on the counter where he’d left it. “Anders Kent” was printed neatly in the name box.
“He just upped and asked me to marry him, and then he took it back.” Chloe huffed out a sigh.
Of course this would happen to her. The hits just kept on coming. Instead of getting a normal proposal from a normal man—her ex, Steven, for instance—she got one from a total crackpot who promptly changed his mind.
Except he hadn’t seemed like a crackpot. He actually seemed sort of charming, especially when he was holding the puppy. But come on, what handsome man didn’t seem charming with a cute dog in his arms?
“Not that I considered it for even a second. It seems exceedingly rude to withdraw a proposal, though. I’m just saying.” The puppy started to whine in her arms, so she bounced up and down a bit. Jingle, jingle, jingle. “Surely you agree.”
The shelter manager sighed. “Honestly, as long as the puppy goes to a good home, I don’t really care.”
“Right. Of course.” Why was she telling this woman about her almost-engagement to a perfect stranger?
More specifically, why couldn’t she let the stunning incident go? She shouldn’t be dwelling on it. It was a non-incident, as evidenced by the mysterious Anders Kent’s speedy retraction, followed by his hasty exit.
“Do you want the dog or not?” The exasperated woman slid a paper across the counter toward Chloe.
“Absolutely.” She scrawled her name on the designated line.
After all, she was here to adopt a puppy, not to get engaged.
Not now.
Not ever.
“Mr. Kent.” Edith Summers, Anders’s personal assistant, stood as he strode into the paneled entryway to his office. “We weren’t expecting you to come in today.”
Anders paused and nodded graciously at the older woman. He wasn’t typically one for small talk in the workplace, but he hadn’t seen Mrs. Summers since the funeral and her presence at that ghastly affair had been more comforting than he’d expected. Burying his brother and sister-in-law was by no means easy, but seeing his assistant sitting in the second pew, wearing her customary pearls and stoic, maternal expression, had made him feel a little less alone. A little less untethered.
“I changed my mind.” Anders smiled stiffly.
He should say something. He should thank her, or at the very minimum, acknowledge her presence on that darkest of days. But just over Mrs. Summers’s shoulder, Anders spotted his brother’s name on the smooth oak door to the office next to his own, and the words died on his tongue.
Mrs. Summers followed his gaze, then squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. She’d been Anders’s assistant long enough to know that what he needed now was normalcy. And normalcy meant work. It meant numbers and spreadsheets and meetings with investors. It meant being at his desk from sunup to sundown...
But that would have to change now, wouldn’t it?
“Very well. I’ll get you a cup of coffee and then we can go over your schedule,” Mrs. Summers said.
“Thank you.” He held her gaze long enough to impart all the things he couldn’t say—thank you for being there, thank you for not trying to make him talk about his feelings or force him to go home. The list was long.
“Of course.” Her eyes flashed with sympathy, and Anders’s chest wound itself into a hard, suffocating tangle as she bustled past him toward the executive break room.
How long would it be this way?
How long would it be before he could stand in this place where he once felt so capable, so impenetrable, and not feel like his heart had just been put through a paper shredder?
Months. Years, maybe.
Lolly’s sweet, innocent face rose to the forefront of his consciousness, and he knew with excruciating clarity that no amount of time would be sufficient. He’d feel this way for a lifetime. He’d carry the loss to his grave.
But he couldn’t think about that now. Lolly was depending on him. His niece was only five years old, too young to grasp the permanence of what had just happened to her...what had happened to them both. Anders, on the other hand, was all too aware.
He was even more aware of feeling that he wasn’t quite up to the task of raising a child. Anders didn’t know the first thing about being a father. Not that he would ever come close to replacing Grant and Olivia in Lolly’s life. But having lost his own parents at an early age, he knew that children as young as his niece didn’t understand words like guardian and custody. Even if Lolly continued calling him Uncle Anders, he’d become so much more than that. He’d be the one to teach her how to ride a bicycle and help her with her homework. He’d
