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Puppy Eyes

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“What’s that, boy?” Gabriel lowered his head so it was level with that of the corgi he was holding in place on the examination table. “Meg should let me make her dinner one of these nights? Hmm, well, I’m totally on board with that, but you’ll have to run it by her, I’m afraid.”

Meg looked up from her clipboard to see two sets of puppy eyes, one literal and the other figurative, waiting for her answer. She scoffed and shook her head. “You’re a dork, you know that, right?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I know a lot of things. Like, for example, a recipe for eggplant parmesan that’ll knock your socks off, or your proverbial money back. So, whaddya say?” He straightened and gave her a winsome smile. “Have dinner with me? It’d make Ricky here all sorts of happy.”

As if on cue, Ricky started wagging his tail. Meg rolled her eyes. Oh, what the hell…

“Fine," she said at last. “This Saturday at five, your place. But I want garlic bread, too.”

Gabriel beamed. “It’s a date.”