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G inny wanted to slam the front door behind her with enough force to melt its hinges, but all three dogs were jockeying and whining to get out.

“He didn’t bring any veggie dogs,” she groused at them as she used her knees to awkwardly maneuver herself inside and shut the door without smashing any noses or tails in the gap. “Sheesh. You guys are bigger suckers for that jerk than I am.”

The dogs pounded toward the front window, where they placed their front paws on the sill and whined some more. Through the dark, she could see Nico packing up the rest of his stuff.

“Don’t worry,” she said as she pulled the curtains closed. “You’ll never see him again. And if you do, he’ll be headed to jail for harassment and trespassing.”

Mick dashed past her, nearly knocking her down on his way to the bay window in the kitchen. “Hey, careful!” The others followed like the giant lemmings they were. She made her way there and closed that curtain too, but just as she did, she sneezed so loudly the dogs all startled.

“Sorry,” she said to them as she reached for a tissue from the box on the table and blew her nose. She’d been sneezing off and on that whole day, and a soreness was creeping into her throat.

“I must be the only person in LA capable of catching a cold as a complete shut in,” she said aloud as she filled her tea kettle and set it on the stove. And that’s when she remembered the sneeze-shower Sadie had given her two days prior.

With a cup of steaming Bigelow Perfect Peach in her mug and her head beginning to fill with cotton fluff, she sat at the booth and called her sister.

“Heddow?” Sadie said. “Id dat you, Ginny?”

“Crap. You’ve got a cold?”

“Bad one,” Sadie replied.

“Remember how you sneezed on me at brunch?”

“Oh no. I’b so sorry.”

“What have I got to look forward to?”

“The whole shebang. Grant is taking good care ob me. You need anyting?”

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“Try to rest. Watch a moobie maybe.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. She’d just rejected that exact offer from Nico. “Not you, too.”

“Me too? What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Feel better, Sis. I’ve got a strong immune system. I’ll kick this thing by morning.”

As she ended the call, a deep engine rumble from out front told her Nico was driving away.

Both she and the dogs listened with perked ears as the truck’s growl faded into the night.

When the only sound was the humming of the refrigerator, the house felt eerily quiet and oddly empty, and so did Ginny.

She grimaced as she swallowed hot tea down her increasingly angry throat.

With all hope of veggie dogs gone, she expected the dogs to stake out their various favorite places on the living room rug and curl up to sleep, but they stayed by the door.

Her brain felt stuck in low gear as she stared them, not understanding.

Finally, Annie, the best communicator of the group, whined her specific whine. They needed a trip outside.

“Okay,” Ginny said, using both arms to push herself up with a groan. Her head swam a little. “But make it a good one, because it’s bedtime after this.”

After letting the dogs out, she walked down the front steps and meandered her way over to the rectangle of lawn that Nico’s rug had slightly flattened.

A scent of popcorn lingered, and a few shiny shards of what she assumed were movie projector bits glinted in the road.

Had she overreacted? The outdoor theatre had been cute.

It might have been another nice evening, like the last. She did like twinkle lights…

She frowned as she shook her head. No! He was using her to get what he wanted, nothing more.

If she ever desired such things, there were plenty of men she’d have fun cooking veggie dogs with.

Plenty of handsome guys who’d set up twinkle lights around cozy pillows for an outdoor movie with her.

Plenty whose every movement and glance could set her nerves on tingly alert.

She couldn’t remember any just now, but that was her brain on a cold.

And anyway, even the most attractive man wouldn’t be worth the pain and annoyance she’d eventually feel from having him around.

She had learned this lesson first at the knee of her Great Aunt Lydia, but the lesson had been reinforced time and again by her own observations and experiences.

Sadie seemed to have found the rare exception in Grant, but Sadie didn't get bored as easily as Ginny did.

Ginny had been sneezing every few minutes, but the next one was massive. Still, it barely raised an ear flick from the dogs—even they understood that she had a bad cold.

Finished with their doggy bedtime routine, Ginny brought them all back inside to start her own.

It was a simple one. First, she changed into jammies.

Her regular ones were somewhere in the deep strata layers of the overflowing laundry basket she was supposed to have washed that day.

She didn’t have the energy to excavate them, but, as she looked in her dresser for a suitable oversized t-shirt, her fingers found the lovely, hand-me-down (but still as perfect as new) navy blue satin set from Monique.

They were far too fancy for Ginny’s tastes, but she was far too exhausted to care.

Next, she headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face with hand soap—but she only managed the first part.

As she set her toothbrush back into its cup, all her energy seemed to seep out through the soles of her feet.

She gripped the edges of her small bathroom sink as a yawn took over her entire flagging body.

She reached her hand determinedly toward her washcloth on its rack but let her arm drop.

She was too tired. Her face would just have to deal with being dirty till morning.

She took an antihistamine, drank some cough medicine straight from the bottle, and her bedtime routine was officially done.

Exiting the bathroom, she felt light-headed enough that she placed her hands on the doorframe for a little added balance.

Antihistamines tended to have this effect on her, but it hadn’t been in her system long enough.

This had to just be the cold. The overhead light in her bedroom was off, but her bed was mere feet away, and the darkness was so inviting.

She couldn’t wait to plop into the sheets and nod off.

And that’s all she needed, really, a good sleep. Sleep off the cold. Sleep off the man.

Her bare foot touched something squishy, and Ginny heard a yelp. It was more a yelp of surprise than of pain, and the surprise was mutual. The dogs never slept in her room. One of them must have snuck in while she was in the bathroom.

Reflexively, Ginny yelped too. She attempted to direct her foot to a safer landing spot, but her sense of space was off kilter, and her nervous system was running uncharacteristically slow.

Whichever dog had decided to bunk with her reacted at the exact same time, creating a scrabble of nails and a flailing of furry limbs.

A head or a read end—she would never know which—bumped hard into the side of her standing leg, and down she went in the dark.

Piercing pain stole her breath as her right ankle twisted, and the hardwood floor she’d polished herself rose up to meet her face.