Page 104 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

As soon as I keyed in, a chorus of barking rose from the back. Max’s ears lifted, and I swear he sighed like a man clocking in.

Avery appeared from the training room wearing cargo pants and a black tank top. Her buzz cut was so fresh, it made her cheekbones look higher than the man smoking weed in my building. A clicker hung from one wrist, a leash from the other. There was a smear of something on her forearm that I chose, for both our sakes, to believe was peanut butter.

“There’s my guy,” she said, crouching as Max came in.

Max went to her, tail wagging wildly, because he had no loyalty when Avery had liver treats.

“Good morning to you, too,” I said.

Avery scratched under his chin. “I see you brought the backup human.”

“I’m the primary human.”

“Sure. And I’m the Queen of Belgium.” She looked him over, then glanced at me. “He’s tired.”

“Big night.”

“Did he work?”

“He got complimented by half a ballroom and shook hands with a museum director’s wife.”

Avery’s eyes narrowed with interest. “Okay. I need that sentence unpacked immediately.”

“I have to get to work.”

“Cruel. Illegal. Anti-feminist.”

“I’ll give you the good version later.”

“You always say that, and then I get the trial transcript version.”

“I’m in law.”

“You’re in denial,” she said, standing. “How’s the dragon?”

My face must have done something inappropriate, because Avery’s eyes narrowed.

“No,” I said.

“I didn’t ask anything.”

“You asked how he was in a tone.”

She shrugged. “I use many tones. I’m a woman with range.”

“He is fine.”

“Fine,” she repeated.

“Professional.”

“Mm.”

“Helpful.”

“Oh, no.”

I unclipped Max’s leash and handed over his day bag. “His joint supplement is in the blue container, lunch in the silver one, and the emergency treats are in the side pocket.”