Chapter 3

Tonight, I’ve decided to wear a jade green, long-sleeved shirt and new jeans, with black loafers. A dark brown leather jacket completes the ensemble. Grabbing my keys, phone, and wallet, I head out, locking the door behind me.

Almost on cue, Julius Caesar, the delusional poodle, comes bounding through the open door of the loft next to mine and jumps on me, happily panting and barking. Great. My first reaction is to push him off, but I take a deep breath, awkwardly pat him on the head, and say, “Uh, hello, Julius.”

The daft dog, delighted at getting my attention, proceeds to bark even more, trying to lick my hands to show his affection, I guess.

Tanya Faulkner, twenty-five years old and a financial analyst at Bank of America, comes running into the hallway, apologizes profusely for her dog, and drags Julius back inside, quickly closing the door behind her before I can even say, “That’s all right.”