Cheryl’s smile beams with excitement for the Doberman who has stayed here a year too long.
We head back to the front desk after introducing Ella to all the dogs and watching Zanders get comically covered in dog hair.
“So, I think I can have all her records and everything ready to go tomorrow,” Cheryl says to Zanders. “Is tomorrow a good day for pickup?”
“Tomorrow is perfect.”
“I’ll just need a phone number from you.”
Zanders hesitates.
“I think we can skip the phone number,” I interrupt, knowing how private Zanders is. Ryan is the same way, not giving out personal information to strangers.
“That’s okay,” Zanders says. “But can I give it to Stevie? Does that work?”
A mischievous smile pulls across Cheryl’s lips. “Yeah, that works just fine.”
“Sweetheart.” Zanders holds his hand out, bringing my attention back to him. “Your phone.”
In a small wave of shock that Zanders wants to give me his number, I swallow, pull my phone out, and hand it over.
I watch as his ring-covered fingers type in the ten digits with precision before adding his name.
Zee (Daddy) Zanders
I shake my head, laughing, holding my hand out to take my phone back.
But Zanders being Zanders, can’t help himself from adding an eggplant emoji next to his name. Then he tacks on a single heart before handing it back with a satisfied smile.
“And typically, we do a home visit before adoption, but since Stevie knows you, we can skip over that.”
“No!” Zanders interrupts. “I think we need a home visit. That seems important.”
He’s so full of shit. I know exactly what he’s doing.
“Stevie, this seems like a home visit you should do,” Cheryl says.
Looking over at Zanders, he wears a cheeky smile as I shake my head in disbelief.
“It’s not a date,” I remind him.
He holds a hand over his chest, mouth gaping in mock offense. “How dare you accuse me of tricking you into a date.”
The devilish grin he wears tells me that’s precisely what he’s doing.
“And the last thing is the adoption fee,” Cheryl adds. “It’s fifty dollars.”
Zanders lets go of Ella’s hand before digging into the inside pocket of his long wool coat. He pulls out a checkbook, sets it on the desk, and fills out a check.
As he fills it out, I watch with a content smile as Rosie sits perfectly calm on one side of Zanders with Ella standing at his other, patiently waiting for her uncle.
“Oh,” Cheryl awkwardly laughs, holding Zanders’ check in her hands. “You filled this out wrong.” Her cheeks are flushed. “It’s fifty dollars. This says fifty-thousand.”
Zanders tucks his checkbook away, stepping back to Ella and putting his hand on her head. “Oops,” he casually says, letting me know that nothing about that was a mistake.
“Well, we don’t want to waste a perfectly good check.” Zanders shrugs. “May as well cash that one.”
“What?” Cheryl laughs uncomfortably. “Oh no. I can’t accept this.” She holds the check out, wanting him to take it back.
“Please take it,” Zanders begs. “As a donation.”
Cheryl’s head cocks to the side, her lips tilting downward. “Thank you.” She rounds the desk to give him a hug.
Zanders wraps his arms around her but shoots me a soft smile over her shoulder.
I think I might be done for.
“Well,” Cheryl huffs, trying to wipe her eyes slyly, but I know she’s having a hard time. This shelter needs so much, and Zanders’ donation will take care of a lot of it. “We better get your picture on the wall.”
Cheryl grabs the Polaroid camera from below the desk as Zanders crouches down next to Ella, with Rosie sitting perfectly in front of them.
“Vee, get over here,” he calls out, waving me over.
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“Get over here. I need all my girls together.”
Pressing my lips together, trying to suffocate the way it feels to hear him refer to me as one of his girls, I take the space next to him, crouching down.
Zanders wraps his arm around me, his other one around Ella, pulling us both in close. My hand conveniently finds the inside of his muscular thigh as I rest it there while Cheryl takes the shot with Rosie right in front.
“Perfect,” Cheryl says after a moment when the black image shifts.
I reattach Rosie’s leash to lead her back for her last night here as both Zanders and Ella give her scratches and kisses goodbye.
“So tonight then?” Zanders asks me. “Seven o’clock?”
“Not a date,” I remind him. Or remind myself. I’m not too sure anymore.
He holds Ella’s hand, leading her to the front door. “Absolutely not,” he laughs. “See you tomorrow, Cheryl!”
As soon as he’s outside, he bends down for Ella to climb on his shoulders. He holds her feet as Ella rests her crossed arms and chin on his beanie, the two of them walking home.
And the only thought that crosses my mind is that I’m entirely done for.
28
ZANDERS
“Oh my God. You’re nervous,” Logan laughs.
My head snaps around, brows furrowed, as I scoff at the FaceTime call set up on my kitchen island. “I am not nervous.”
“You’re sweating bullets, buddy.” Maddison’s ugly mug cuts into the phone’s frame.
“Well, I’m not not nervous either.”
“Zee-baby has a date,” he teases.
“It’s not a date,” I correct, brushing my hands down my chest and smoothing my suit. “Stevie specifically said it wasn’t a date. Like multiple times.”
Maddison squints through the phone screen. “So, your table being set with candles and flowers is because this isn’t a date?”
Turning back to my dining room table, set with brand new plates, linens, and cutlery, which was all bought today, I realize my guy might be right. Not to mention the candles waiting to be lit or the giant vase of roses in the center.
“Is it too obvious?”
Both Logan and Maddison burst into laughter through the phone. “Zee, you have a private chef coming, for Christ’s sake.”
“Fuck. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’ve never done this before.”
“Just be yourself,” Logan soothes. “That’s what tonight is about.”
“What if she doesn’t like the real me?” Leaning my forearms on the counter, I keep my focus on my two best friends through the phone screen, needing a little encouragement.
“Then she doesn’t know what she’s missing,” Maddison adds. “But I’ve been around you both for months. She likes you. She just doesn’t like the act you put on, so cut that shit out with her.”
“Zee,” Logan interrupts. “Tell her everything.”
“I will.”
Looking back at the table set to perfection, realization hits me. This isn’t Stevie.
“Hey, guys, I gotta go. Love you both.”
“Love you, Zee.”
“Good luck, man. Love you,” Maddison finishes before I hang up our video call.