“Who is it, boy?”
Woof!
“Exactly,” I tell him, climb out of bed, and head downstairs, following him.
* * * *
Okay…okay…okay…I don’t know what I’m thinking when I show up at the front door in nothing more than a pair of red boxer-briefs. Honestly, I’m still half asleep: groggy, semi-open-eyed, dry-mouthed, weak in the knees. I probably smell, needing a shower. No matter what state I’m in, I open the front door and—
“Good morning, Mr. Sunshine!” Putnam says, beaming an ear-to-ear smile. He holds a small box of Prima Donuts in one hand. “I want to apologize for waking you, but I’d be lying. Today is a new day and we need to celebrate its beauty.”
Mr. Gray sneaks around me and sniffs the box of donuts. I snag his collar and pull him back, keeping him in check. “No treats, boy.” He vanish
