Free Must Love Wieners by Casey Griffin

hands up in the air. “Just kidding.”
    “You know,” Aiden said. “I think it’s generous of you to spend your spare time working with homeless dogs.”
    “Not really.” Her cheeks warmed again and she turned away to hide it. “I love these guys, so it doesn’t feel like work.”
    “I wish I had more time to do the same. There’s the whole time is money factor, I guess.”
    Yet another thing he had in common with her brother, Piper thought.
    She remembered her mother having to sell off farm equipment to pay the hospital bills and how quickly it all fell apart, especially after her father died. Even as her mother cried herself to sleep, she had to make plans for the funeral, for selling the farm, uprooting their whole lives. And where was Ethan? Sitting in on some large corporate merger in Washington. He caught a late flight the night before the funeral and left almost immediately after. Because time is money .
    Piper fell silent, lost in thought, but when Aiden spoke again she realized so had he. “But there are some things money can’t buy.” The lightness had gone from his voice. “You know what I mean?”
    He looked at her, like really looked at her, as though he wanted to know how she felt. And not just for part of the interview. It caught her off guard. For a moment, she wondered what a rich man like Aiden couldn’t buy with all his money.
    She considered the question with the same seriousness with which he asked. It was easy to say money didn’t matter when you never had to worry about it.
    “It’s true,” she said. “Money can’t make you happy. But it can sure make you miserable when you don’t have any.”
    “Are you miserable?”
    She thought about her friends and the things that made her happy, and she realized none of those things cost her a penny. “No, finances are just stressful sometimes.”
    “Most people stress about money, no matter how much or how little they have.”
    Before she could answer, he clicked his tongue and stopped. “Money can, however, buy new shoes.” He scraped his wingtips off on the cement path.
    Piper pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh at the mess. “I should have warned you when I suggested we meet at the park. People are supposed to pick up after their dogs, but some don’t. I like to call them dog-park poop etrators.”
    “I should have dressed more casually, but I didn’t think the dog park had a dress code.”
    “Oh yes. The uniform is strictly enforced.” She nodded gravely. “Khakis and short-sleeved plaid shirts. Wrinkled, not pressed. And I wouldn’t recommend flip-flops.”
    “I’ll remember that for next time.”
    A middle-aged man approached to hand Aiden a flyer. She ducked her head and fell behind. She didn’t think she recognized him, but she couldn’t be sure. When she fell into step next to Aiden again, she saw that the glimmer was back in his eyes.
    “So is that your dog-park uniform?” He eyed her tank top and jean shorts—a little appreciatively, she thought. “I was expecting something more Western-style.”
    “Very funny. I don’t just do cowgirl, you know. I also have a cop uniform, a cheerleading outfit, and a construction worker.”
    “Wow, a couple more costumes and you could be a one-woman Village People.”
    “I don’t do covers. Original material only, under the Piper Summers trademark. And those are just the popular outfits. I’ve got plenty more.”
    “You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing them sometime,” he said.
    “I bet you wouldn’t.” She couldn’t keep the suggestive waggle from her eyebrow. “I charge by the song.”
    A few minutes earlier, she’d become livid with him because she thought he had the wrong idea. Now that she knew that wasn’t the case, the wrong idea felt a little right. She was glad they’d made it back to total Flirtville, population: two.
    Her insides quivered like she’d swallowed butterflies. She hadn’t experienced them since graduate school, so she knew