wallet.
“I’m sorry?”
“Pet-friendly seating requires a thirty-dollar minimum purchase.”
I glanced toward the DOGS WELCOME sign.
“I didn’t see anything about that.”
“It’s my café,” he said. “I’m telling you the policy.”
My first instinct was to apologize.
I’d developed that habit after Frank died.
Don’t inconvenience anyone.
Don’t make people worry.
Don’t ask for more than you absolutely need.
“All right,” I said quietly. “We’ll leave.”
Then I noticed the golden retriever again.
“But that dog is inside.”
“Their table ordered lunch.”
I looked back at him.
“So
