He tries to act completely nonchalant about it, moving food around on his plate. “Well, you and Cheryl have been talking about moving Senior Dogs of Chicago into a bigger building. I found one. I bought it. I want Hallie to design it so there’s more room for people to come visit the dogs, hang out with them, and take them on walks.” She stares at him, dumbfounded. “What?” he asks, trying to bite back his smile. It’s drastically different from the arrogant version I’ve gotten to know.
