My Angel

I started stroking Angel’s fur while I tried to puzzle this out. She always calmed me down when I felt nervous. Really, it’s why I got the dog in the first place. That, and I trained her to bark whenever I tried to leave the apartment at night. It was really annoying when I had a late appointment, but I’m sure it’s saved my life on more than one…

Wait a minute.

Stroking Angel? I looked up.

Nope. The bubble was still here. I guess it’s pretty sturdy. If her lethal three-week-old lhasa apso beard didn’t pop it, then nothing will.

The phone rang.

Wonderful. Now what? It’s on the other side of the room. It might be my mother. In which case, I’m staying put. She’ll leave a message.

Of course, it might be someone calling on the business line. And considering the type of services I offer, customers are instructed not to leave a message.

Time to test this baby out. Bubble, or no bubble, I’m not turning down the possibility of another hundred thousand dollars. That would just be stupid.

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