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“Okay then, not Frank,” I giggle. “How about Sinatra, then? I need to call you something other than wolf.”

He bumps my elbow with his nose and rests his chin on his crossed paws.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Alright then, Sinatra. Shall I sing you a song?”

A deep rumbling sound emanates from Sinatra’s chest as he remains motionless, patiently waiting for me to play.

“Okay, but don’t judge. I’ve only got a vague idea of the lyrics so far. But the chorus has been dancing around in my head since I arrived.”

I settle my pre-war Martin guitar on my crossed legs, tucking my bare feet under me, and strum out the beat that I can’t seem to get out of my head. Humming along with the rhythm where I think the lyrics should go. Adding in a couple words and short lines that come to me in the moment. I jot them in my notebook, sitting open at my side for later.

“So? What do you think?” I ask Sinatra.

This time, he does stick out his tongue and licks my exposed knee through the rip in my jeans. It tickles, and I chuckle at the strange sensation of the wet and rough texture.

“I take it you liked it then? I haven’t written anything like this in a long time. Haven’t been able to.”

Sinatra tilts his head at me in question. Fuck, this animal is more attentive than my entire legal team. I chuckle at the thought and the way his brows appear to furrow.

“I had a very controlling boss, who also happened to be my mother. She wasn’t very . . . understanding. She didn’t want to listen to my opinion even though it was my life she was fucking with. All that mattered was her and what she wanted. It made it hard to write music from the heart if you know what I mean.”

Sinatra snorts and shakes his head. Okay, I guess he doesn’t know what I mean.

“Living a life that isn’t yours is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Living a lie slowly kills a person from the inside out in a way that is unrecognizable until it’s too late. I just hope I caught it in time to salvage some semblance of the life that I want.”

I admit my deepest pains and fears to the wolf sitting and listening motionless at my side. It feels nice to tell someone. To verbalize the feelings I dared not admit out loud before is cathartic. If I hadn’t feared my mother getting ahold of session notes, I would have sought out a therapist long ago to speak to. Nothing in Tinsel Town is private. Some way or another, it would all get out in the worst way.

I suppose dawning a disguise and running away isn’t much better, but at least the team back in LA can make up whatever the hell they want to explain my absence.

“That’s why I’m here,” I tell him, trying to explain further. “I wanted to escape my old life. See if I want to start over somewhere new or maybe return, but make, like, a millionchanges. I still haven’t decided yet. But that’s what the next few months are for.”

Reaching up, I smooth a hand over Sinatra’s head, the soft suede fur there shorter than the rest.

“I think I kind of like it here, though. What do you think, Sinatra?”

He perks his ears up and stares at me.

“Should I stay, or should I go?”

With a growl-like purr, he places his head on my thigh, pushing the guitar to the side.

“Okay. I guess that means I’m staying. At least for now.”

Laying back, I ease onto Sinatra’s large body and relax against him, setting my guitar to the side and nuzzling closer. His fur is softer and silkier than any I’ve ever felt before. He doesn’t smell like dog like I thought he would. Instead, he puts off a deeply relaxing scent of wood shavings, leather, and spicy musk.

I had imagined my time here in many different ways; snuggling with a giant wolf inhaling his weirdly pleasant scent in the middle of the forest was not one of them. But I think it’s the best one.

Picking up my Polaroid, I turn it around and point it at myself, shifting so Sinatra’s head is next to mine.

“Smile.”

I click the button and wait for my selfie with the wolf to develop.

~

Tonight is my dinner with Ginger’s family. All of them,includingHunter and his sheriff brother, I haven’t met yet. Dad always said it’s prudent to make a good first impression. And although I didn’t make the best first impression with Hunter, Ican still salvage one with his mother and brother. And perhaps have a redo with Hunter if I’m lucky.

Deciding not to arrive empty-handed and having nothing else to do today, I take Tobias’ advice and find my way to Daisy’s, the local flower nursery. Since none of these businesses are online, I asked the counter girl atSticky Bunfor directions.