Scarlett POV
Wednesday.
Same as always, the day I headed out to Havenwoods.
The second my shift ended, bag over my shoulder, feet moving faster than the rest of me, like they had somewhere important to be.
In the car, the thought hit without warning: Would I run into Gary Hirsch and Tank tonight?
The question barely finished forming before the answer showed up.
After months of this routine?
Odds were a hundred percent.
Guy was practically part of the landscape now.
Sure enough.
I hadn’t even made it to the Allens’ front walk when I spotted the pale blur first, Tank’s tail going like a windshield wiper, that soft white coat catching the last of the light.
Beside him, leash in hand, was Gary Hirsch, wearing that easy, warm smile he always seemed to have ready.
Something abo
