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lending. I wonder who Robert is? I bet we could find out.”
    Oh, boy.
    Moving fast, Oscar sniffed the ground, his snout swinging back and forth, back and forth. Lucie clutched Lauren’s forearm, squeezing enough to let her know not to wreck this moment. “Sshhh. This is it. Don’t rush him. He’s getting ready to poop.”
    Wide-eyed, but apparently understanding the importance, Lauren nodded. Oscar pooping in a timely manner meant keeping the already-blown schedule from completely slipping out of control.
    Finally, Oscar picked the winning spot and did his business while Lucie readied the atomic plastic baggie that hung from a holder on her belt loop. Having learned the hard way that she could wind up with a hole in a bag and poop smeared over her fingers—not fun when in the middle of a walk with nowhere to wash up—Lucie provided her own industrial bags. Just one of the many perks of Coco Barknell’s services. She also now carried an extra water bottle, wipes and sanitizer in her backpack. For emergencies.
    “About the paintings,” Lucie said, “this is what I’m talking about. We need to pretend we didn’t hear that. So, no, you shouldn’t write a paper on it. Please.”
    A car honked— I know that horn —and Lucie turned, spotting Frankie jogging across the street from where he’d parked in a no-parking zone. He wore dress slacks and a dress shirt, no tie. His office look. Meaning he was probably on his way to the newspaper. His hair was a little shorter than usual, and even from the ten-yard distance, the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the perfect jaw and dark eyes sent her body buzzing. Nothing unusual there. She’d missed him horribly. Mind-torturing missing him, and then he showed up and her body nearly purred over his closeness.
    The two of them were stuck. Broken-up but still talking and feeling the feelings that people in love felt.
    He squeezed between two parked cars. “Hey, Luce.”
    “Hey there. You’re in a no-parking zone.”
    “Yeah. I’ll only be a sec.”
    What if this was it? Him telling her he was ready to try again. A spark of adrenaline flooded her brain and she whipped around to Lauren. “I’ll just be a minute. Why don’t you walk ahead and I’ll catch up.”
    “Got it.”
    Lucie waited for Lauren and Oscar to get out of earshot and turned back to Frankie. “Are you heading to work?”
    “Yeah. I knew you walked Oscar around four and figured I’d catch you before I headed in. You know,” he said tapping his watch. “You’re a little behind schedule.”
    Oh, ha-ha. Funny man. More than anyone, he knew her obsession with managing her time. “Hardy-har. I’m training my new part-timer, so it’s taking longer. What’s up?”
    “Joey told me about your dad. I was thinking about you. And him. Living under the same roof. Are you gonna be okay?”
    And apparently, this little impromptu visit wasn’t for him to pledge his undying love and tell her he couldn’t live without her. So much for the adrenaline rush. But he’d cared enough to stop and see her. That was something at least.
    Lucie shrugged. “I have to be. It’s his house. If things get rough, I’ll rent an apartment. I just have to see what kind of budget I can manage.”
    “If Ro and Tommy split, you could move in with her. It’s eight to five Tommy is gonna get slaughtered in that settlement.”
    Oh. My. God. That damned Joey. “Please, Frankie. You have to tell me Joey is not taking action on Ro getting divorced.”
    “Really, Luce? He takes action on everything.”
    “I’ll kill him.”
    “Technically, it’s not his fault. The guys at Petey’s started it, but it got too big and they needed Joey’s help. He’s not one to refuse money, so he caved.”
    And here she’d hoped her degenerate gambler brother was getting out of the bookie business by helping her walk the dogs a few days a week. If things kept up with the accessory orders, she’d need Joey to help her run the dog walking end of the