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I feel my cheeks heat up, and I look down at Chop Suey to avoid Cindy’s knowing smirk. “No, that’s… that’s definitely not the issue.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Cindy asks, her tone softening. “You love him, right?”

I nod, my throat tightening. “Yeah. I do.”

“And he loves you?”

“I know he does.”

“So, again,” Cindy says, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation, “where’s the problem? Unless you’re just freaking out because you’re not used to being happy. Which, by the way, is ayouproblem, not ahimproblem.”

I open my mouth to argue, but she’s right. I’m not used to this—to feeling this happy, this secure. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go wrong. But maybe… maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe I can just let myself be happy.

Chop Suey lets out a little snort, his tail thumping against my leg. I smile down at him, then look back at Cindy. “You’re right. I’m overthinking it.”

“Damn right you are,” Cindy says, grinning. “Now, tell me more about this café. Did they have stroopwafels? Because if they did, I’m booking a flight tomorrow.”

“So, I left my stroopwafel on top of my coffee mug to warm it up,” I say, leaning back into the couch. Chop Suey shifts in my lap, his little pug face scrunching up in his sleep. “But the steam made it all soft and gooey, and it just… plopped right into the cup. I drank it anyway. Tasted like oatmeal, honestly.”

Cindy bursts out laughing, her purple and pink hair bouncing as she throws her head back. “Only you, Ty. Only you would turn a perfectly good stroopwafel into soggy coffee sludge.”

I grin, but it doesn’t last. My smile fades, and I stare down at Chop Suey, his warm little body grounding me. “I don’t know, Cin. I’m starting to feel… weird about all this. Lanz pays for everything. The trips, the dinners, the clothes. I mean, what do I even bring to the table?”

Cindy stops mid-laugh, her green eyes narrowing as she looks at me. “Girl, are you kidding me? You bringyourselfto the relationship, and that’s enough. Besides, what’s wrong with being a pampered pet? The Cinner would kill for that life.”

I chuckle, but my cheeks burn. Pampered pet. Yeah, that’s one way to put it. Lanz has a way of making me feel like his most prized possession, especially when we’re alone. Cindy’s only guessed at the tip of the iceberg when it comes to our… dynamic. The thought makes me squirm, and I quickly change the subject.

Before I can say anything, my phone buzzes on the coffee table. I glance at the screen—Sandy, my manager from Doggone Elegance. It’s almost 10 PM. What could she want this late?

“Uh, hold on,” I say, reaching for the phone. Chop Suey grumbles as I shift him off my lap, and he waddles over to Cindy, who immediately starts scratching his ears.

I answer the call. “Hey, Sandy. Everything okay?”

“Tyler, thank God you picked up,” Sandy’s voice is tense, almost panicked.

“Sandy, what’s wrong?” I ask, my voice tight with concern. Chop Suey perks up at the tone, his little pug ears twitching.

“I—I locked myself in the storage room,” Sandy stammers, her voice shaky. “The door jammed, and I can’t get out. I’ve been trying for an hour, Tyler. I’m freaking out.”

“Oh my God, are you okay?” I’m already on my feet, grabbing my purse off the counter. Cindy raises an eyebrow, her hand still buried in Chop Suey’s fur.

“I’m fine, just… stuck,” Sandy says, her voice cracking. “Can you come let me out? Please? I don’t know who else to call.”

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” I say, already heading for the door. “Do you want me to call the police or something? They could probably?—”

“No!” Sandy cuts me off, her voice sharp. “No police. If the owner finds out I locked myself in the storage room, he’ll lose it. He’s already on edge about the budget. Just… just come, okay?”

“Okay, okay, I’m on my way,” I say, slipping on my shoes. “Hang tight, Sandy. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” she says, her voice softer now. “I’m so sorry, Tyler.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, grabbing my keys. “I’ll see you soon.”

I hang up and turn to Cindy, who’s watching me with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What’s the deal? Boss lady in distress?”

“Sandy locked herself in the storage room at work,” I explain, shoving my phone into my purse. “I need to go let her out.”

Cindy snorts, leaning back on the couch. “Classic Sandy. Can’t even handle a closet without needing a rescue. The Cinner would’ve kicked the door down by now.”