Chapter 3 The second I walked through the door, Benjamin plopped down in front of me and stared up with the most pitiful expression. I wasn't falling for it. The guy was spoiled rotten-so much so, I swore I'd caught him bragging to his friends about his cushy life. At least, that was how I interpreted his ruffs and snuffles. I smoothed my hand over his massive head and bent down to kiss his damp, leathery nose. "Okay, Benji-bear, I hear you. The five extra minutes you had to wait for me were nothing short of torture. I'll never, ever do it again." He woofed, low and rumbly, and pressed his face into my hand. My man wasn't the brightest bulb in the bunch, but he more than made up for it in sweetness. As long as I kept the treats and walks coming, he had nothing but affection and goofy smiles for me. Something I really needed after that surreal run-in with Tore. I hadn't been able to get his face out of my head all day, but I was banking on a long walk with my dog to do the trick. After all, if Tore could forget me, I could do the same to him. No problem. Benjamin had just enough patience for me to change out my sensible flats for my silver Pumas and throw a hoodie over my catering tee. Then we were out the door. While he sniffed every surface in sight, I checked the Come on Rover app for available yards nearby. No luck. The concept was cool-people renting out their fenced-in yards for dog owners to let their pups run free-but it was hit-or-miss around here. Not that Benjamin knew what he was missing. He was happy as a clam on his leash. Still, my good boy deserved to frolic in freedom. We stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. Our neighborhood sat on the edge of the arts district, always bustling with activity and people, just the way I liked it. A guy on a bike share zipped up behind us, slowing as he passed. He turned his head to grin at me, and I already knew what was about to happen. If I'd had time to warn him, I would have. All I could do was watch the events play out in slow motion. A car stopped in the crosswalk as the light changed, and Benjamin lunged forward, eager to keep moving. The biker, still looking at me instead of where he was going, swerved to avoid him. Then, impact. The bike collided with the side of the car, and the rider flipped over the handlebars, landing flat on his back. I hurried over, crouching beside him. Head lolling toward me, he gave me a dazed smile. "Are you okay?" "I'm Christoph," he said dreamily. "You're really pretty." Benjamin sniffed his helmet, gave it a lick, then woofed and backed away, unimpressed with the taste. "Helmets are for function, not flavor," I informed him. He headbutted my side and looked off into the distance, telling me he had places to be. As if he wasn't partially responsible for the chaos around us. Then again, it was impossible to blame Benjamin for anything, even if he was frequently the cause. Just a few months ago, he'd made a pizza delivery guy on a moped crash into a parked car. Pizza had gone flying, and Benjamin had obviously helped himself. The only thing that would have completed this scene was the mysterious billionaire in a limo who always seemed to be around when chaos happened, but I didn't see him anywhere today. My mother had told me I'd been a magnet for the strange and unusual as a kid, and that hadn't changed. "What's your name?" Christoph asked. I didn't have a chance to answer him. The car's driver came running over with a few other concerned bystanders, and I straightened, pulling Benjamin to my side. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Not the second or third either. I seemed to always end up in the center of disasters. Not my own, fortunately. There was something about me that caused men to make stupid, destructive decisions, like pedaling into traffic without looking. It wasn't flattering when it often ended in bloodshed. Thankfully, Christoph got up on his own, only looking a little off-kilter. Once I was sure he didn't need medical attention, I turned to leave, right after he'd asked for my number. I declined, obviously. "We always look both ways before crossing, right, Benjamin?" My dog woofed, merrily agreeing. At our favorite park, Benjamin did his thing while I trailed behind, tapping on the At Your Service app I'd been beta testing the last couple years. I still didn't know how I'd been chosen or when the app would go live to the public, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. My personal AI concierge, Anthony, took care of my every need. I'd even trained him to chat with me. He could be a little uptight, but I kind of liked it. Me: Hey, Ant. What can you tell me about Nox Cyber? Sometimes the app lagged, making it take a while for me to get a reply. This time, though, I got one right away. Anthony: Good evening, Bea. What would you like to know about Nox Cyber? Me: Who owns it? Anthony: The founder and CEO is Salvatore Gallo. Alongside his partner, COO Sam Patel, they started Nox five years ago in Los Angeles and relocated to Denver two years ago after securing a contract with the Department of Defense. Whoa. That wasn't what I'd expected to read. Tore was the CEO and founder? That meant... Well, I didn't have the first clue how much a company like Nox was worth, but it had to be millions. Maybe billions. Billions. Me: It's no wonder he forgot who I was. Anthony: I find it hard to believe anyone would forget you, Bea. Me: Oh, you flatterer, you. Always saying the sweetest things. Anthony: My algorithm only allows me to tell the truth. Me: Well, tell your algorithm it is possible for someone to forget me, since it happened today. Anthony: Is there a chance you may have misinterpreted the circumstances? Me: Are you accusing me of being less than perfect? Anthony: Never, Bea. I'm only offering another perspective. Who was the person you think forgot you? I can look into them if you would like. Me: Okay. Let's do that. What's the deal with Gallo? Is he married? Anthony: Is that the person you think forgot you? Me: Answering a question with a question, huh? That's a new one for you. Anthony: I'm gathering information to better answer you, Bea. Me: You sweet robot, you. Anthony: As I've explained several times, I'm not a robot. Me: I know, but I like to think of you as a little silver droid, beeping and booping. It's very cute. Anthony: Imagine me however makes you most happy. Just as my thumbs were poised to type out a response, a squirrel darted past, and Benjamin ignited. He bolted after his prey, yanking me along with him. Though, if he ever actually caught a squirrel, he'd probably make it his best friend.. Forgetting Anthony, my full attention was now on keeping my arm in its socket and my dog out of trouble. Three kids were on the sidewalk in front of my house, and if there was one thing Benjamin loved more than squirrels, it was children. "Mind your manners, Benji-bear," I warned. "They're little, and you're a wrecking ball." He twisted his neck to side-eye me, conveying he was no dummy. Of course, he'd be careful around the kids. Still, his leash quivered in my grip as he panted with unbridled excitement, his body thrumming with barely contained enthusiasm. As we got closer, I sized up the kids. One was a teenage girl, short and sharp-eyed, texting between watchful glances at the younger two. A boy, maybe seven or eight, zipped up and down the sidewalk on a scooter. Then there was the tiniest one, a wild-haired little girl in a purple dress and light-up sneakers, absorbed in creating a chalk masterpiece. Benjamin bounded forward, woofing to gain their attention. The boy skidded to a stop, and the little girl dropped her chalk. "I love your dog," she whispered, her big, dark eyes going wide and round. "Thank you. I like him too," I replied, patting Benjamin's rump. The boy was gangly, with skinned knees and crooked glasses. "Can we pet him?" The teenager snapped to attention, resting a protective hand on the younger kids' shoulders. "You probably shouldn't. That dog looks like he could bite your hand off in one chomp." Her eyes, which matched the little one's, lifted to mine. "No offense." I snorted. "No, I get it. He's solid muscle. But Benji-bear wouldn't hurt a fly." I pointed to the ground. "Sit and be nice, Benjamin." He plopped his big butt down and smiled at the kids, tongue wagging and tail swishing. The little ones approached gingerly, hands outstretched. Once their fingers sank into his velvet coat, the three looked utterly blissed out. They petted and petted him while he reveled in their attention. The teen watched warily, but I recognized her conflicted yearning. She wanted in on the action but wasn't sure if it was cool to be excited about a cute dog. "You can pet him," I offered. "Attention is one of his main food groups." She huffed a little laugh. "It looks like he gets fed a lot of it." "Oh yeah." I grinned proudly. "He's spoiled, just shy of rotten. I make sure to ignore him for five minutes a day so he doesn't go all the way bad." She smirked, taking a step toward him. "What kind of dog is he?" "A Staffordshire bull terrier. Staffy. They call them nanny dogs because they love taking care of kids." Benjamin rubbed his head against the little boy, making him giggle. "He's ninety-percent love, ten-percent smarts." Her eyes narrowed. "So, you're saying he's dumb?" I shrugged. "It's not an insult. I'd rather he have a big, beautiful heart than a massive brain." Benjamin swiped a sloppy kiss across the little girl's cheek, sending her into a fit of giggles. Kids weren't usually my jam, but it was impossible not to laugh along. The boy wrapped his arms around Benjamin's middle and laid his head on his back. "This dog is really big, but he's nice too. Pet him, Scarlet. He's so soft." Scarlet, the surly teen, finally caved and ran her hand over Benjamin's smooth coat. Once she got started, she was hooked, tucking her phone away so she could get both hands on him. Little fingers curled around mine, drawing my attention. The tiny girl blinked up at me. "My name is Lacey. I'm six. What's your name?" "I'm Bea, and I'm twenty-eight." "Whoa, that's pretty big," she breathed. "Uncle Sally is thirty-two. He just had a birthday. My birthday is in August." Sally was an interesting name for an uncle, but who was I to judge? My name belonged to an eighty-year-old grandma knitting in a rocking chair. "Cool. Mine's in June," I shared. She nodded solemnly, as if this was critical information. "Is Bea like a bumblebee?" Her fingers were a mix of clammy and chalky, tangled with mine. "No, it's short for Beatrice, but no one calls me that unless I'm in trouble. I'm just Bea most of the time." She pointed at her siblings. "Sometimes we call Scarlet Scar. She's fifteen. Talon is eight. We call him Tally. I'm just Lacey." "Scar, Tally, and Lacey." I tapped my temple. "Got it." Scarlet tore herself from Benjamin to corral her sister at her side. "You know you're not supposed to tell personal information to strangers," she admonished. Lacey huffed, holding my hand more firmly. "This is Bea. She isn't a stranger. She's twenty-eight." Scarlet did have a point, and I was beginning to wonder what these three were doing out on their own, loitering on the sidewalk in front of my house. "Are your parents around?" "Nope," Scarlet answered, popping the p. "Our mom is dead, and our dads aren't in the picture," Tally supplied bluntly, still nuzzling Benjamin. "We live with Uncle Sally and Grandpa Tony." Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Hello? Did either of you ever learn about stranger danger? You can't tell everyone our personal business." Lacey shook her head. "He didn't tell everyone. He just told Bea!" Poor Scarlet's face was turning pink, and she looked like she was getting to the end of her rope. I empathized big-time. As the oldest sister, I'd been left to watch my younger siblings...a lot. Too much. And they drove me nuts. I hated that it seemed she was in the same position I'd once been in. I turned to Scarlet. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I'll divulge some personal business too. I live in the house right behind you, my last name is Novak, and-" Forgetting herself, Scarlet cried, "What? You live in the black house?" I nodded. "Yep. That's my place." "Cool," she whispered, then shook herself out of her impressed daze and schooled her features. "I guess it's okay to tell you we're going to be your neighbors. Our house is almost ready. Grandpa's talking to the builders inside." I followed her gaze to the monstrosity across the street-a former multi-family home that some rich guy had gutted and remodeled into a single-family house. The endless construction had been a neighborhood headache for months. "It's almost done?" I asked. "My room's gonna be pink," Lacey informed me. "I bet I can see your house from my window." For such a small person, she really was cute-sticky hands and all. She still hadn't let go of mine, and I didn't have the heart to pull away. But I'd be washing my hands thoroughly once I got inside. Talon perked up. "We can probably visit Benjamin. And he can come play in our backyard. It's really big and has a fence and everything." Now we're talking. "He'd love that." I wrinkled my nose at the huge trucks occupying the curb across the narrow street. "Are you guys moving in soon?" "Not sure when, but it should be in the next few weeks," Scarlet answered. "Uncle Sal's really busy with his work and Grandpa has, like, a hundred 'social engagements'-that's what he calls his dates-so we have to wait for them to have a break in their schedules." "Your grandpa lives with you?" I asked. "Yeah. Our grandma's dead too," Tally said with the same bluntness. "Grandpa's going to have his own apartment attached to our house so he doesn't have to hear us tromping around at five in the morning when he's trying to get some shut-eye." Scarlet huffed. "That's a direct quote. Grandpa can get kind of cranky." Lacey made a gurgling sound. "Um, Scar, you're kinda telling Bea our personal business." Then she flashed me a grin, so shiny and sweet, something in my stomach flipped a little. I really didn't do kids, so I had no idea why I was reacting to this one. "That's okay. We're not strangers anymore," I assured her. "We're going to be neighbors." "And friends," Lacey added with sugary sincerity. "Kids!" A silver-haired man appeared on the other side of the road. "Butts in gear. It's pizza time." Lacey gave my hand a final squeeze. "Bye, Bea. I can't wait to see you again." All three of them gave Benjamin one last pat, then they were off. Forlorn, he watched them disappear, so I scratched behind his ear until he relaxed, leaning his solid body against my leg. "Don't worry, Benji-bear. They'll be back." I really wasn't a kid person. Not at all. But as far as kids went, I guessed those three weren't so bad. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!