Phineas rolled his eyes. “I mean with Luz.”
Mac looked down at the dog. She’d been looking at him, but when he directed his gaze at her, she turned her head, as though bored. There was something cold about the dog, which Mac had always found strange, since he loved most dogs. He knew people found Luz ugly. She was, after all, hairless, save for the Mohawk-like tuft at the top of her head and the matching one at the tip of her tail. In his unkindest moments, he’d always thought she had something of the oversized rodent about her.
But he’d never found her ugly, at least not on the outside. Yet in the short time he’d been together with her master, she’d never warmed to him. She would leave the room when he came over. If he offered her a treat from his hand, no matter what it was, she would haughtily do the head-turning thing, disdainful, that she’d perfected.