He turns around in a circle. He’s just starting to look worried when he spots her weaving through the throng with two men. It takes me a moment, but I realize one is Vik, and the other is—why, yes, itisJonathan, but he’s wearing a T-shirtand doesn’t have his glasses on, and his hair’s cut short. I’m just a dog, of course, but if anyone’s asking me, he barely looks like the man on the books he was supposed to have written.
“Miguel,” she says, accepting the glass from him. “This is my brother, Jonathan.”
Miguel breaks into a smile, then shakes Jonathan’s hand. “It’s good to finally meet you. I hope you didn’t fly back from Copenhagen for this.”
Jonathan smiles, then slips his arm around Vik. “No, I flew back from Copenhagen for love. So, if anyone can appreciate what you’ve done with the store, it’s me. I just wish I’d come in sooner. I really am sorry.”
“Apology accepted. Besides, if you hadn’t gone rogue, I never would have met Fiona,” he says, smiling at her. “At any rate, there’s no time like the present. Please, be our guests.”
“We appreciate that,” says Vik, and then they disappear into the crowd.
Fiona winks at Miguel and clinks her glass against his. “To love.”
“To me loving you,” he says quietly.
Her eyes widen.
“I should’ve said it when you came over to tell me about you and Jonathan,” he tells her. “I understand now that it wasn’t the truth that drove me away. I’ve been afraid of being happy—and of the possibility I could lose another person I cared about. But I promise you that I’ll never let my fear of losing you get the best of me again. Will you give me another chance to show you how much you mean to me?”
“I already did, you fool,” she says, then kisses him.
“I suspect Amelia knew exactly what she was doing whenshe told you about this store,” Miguel says when they finally pull apart from each other.
“I do, too,” she says, glancing around. “And maybe she knew I’d end up loving you, too.”
“I like that thought.” He puts his arm around her waist and pulls her close. “Does that mean I get to be an early reader of whatever you write next?”
“You’ll be the very first.”
“I can’t wait. In the meantime…” He dashes over to the register, where a long line has formed, and reaches behind the counter. When he returns, he’s carrying a fresh copy ofMissing Person.“Would you sign this for me?”
She regards it. “As JMB?”
“No, as yourself—the woman who wrote the book,” he says in a low voice. “I know it’s complicated, but this story will always have a special place in my heart, so it’d mean the world to me if you’d consider it.”
Fiona hesitates before pulling a pen from the pocket of her dress. Then she squats down, balances the book on the edge of my wagon, and opens to one of the first pages. “It means more to me,” she tells him, and beside the scribble that I assume is her name, there’s a little wet dot where a tear has fallen. She stands, but instead of handing the book to him, she plants her lips on his and sinks into his arms.
“Harry, he did it!” whispers Amelia Mae, who’s just appeared behind me. “He fixed it!”
Yes, the man has finally learned to grovel—and my heart feels so, so full.
A dog’s only as happy as his owner, after all.
“Come on,” says Amelia Mae, who has already startedtugging the wagon away from them. “Let’s leave these lovebirds to it and do a quick spin before we have to go.”
“Don’t wander too far,” calls Fiona.
Amelia Mae smiles sweetly at her. “Have we met?”
“Yes, love, we have—and you have an alarming tendency to act outMissing Person.Which is exactly why I’m asking you not to wind up in Alaska.”
“I won’t,” she responds in a singsong voice before winking at me and adding in a whisper, “Don’t tell my mom, but I actually don’t want to worry her any more than I already have.”
“Harold, are you good?” Miguel asksme.
I raise my head to tell him I am for now, and that’s enough.
“Well, you know I’m here if you need me,” he says.
