“Relatable.”
Bubba sneezes directly into my face. Jules loses his mind laughing.
“Oh, that’s karma,” he says.
I wipe my cheek with my sleeve. “I hope a cat pees in your shoe today.”
“See? This is why the billionaire likes you. You’re spicy.”
I point toward the hallway. “Office. Now. Before I throw you into the puppy room.”
Jules presses a hand dramatically to his chest, then flicks his fingers through the air like he’s accepting a royal invitation. “Promises, promises.”
He follows me into the cramped little office we share. The room looks the same as every other day. Clipboards stacked everywhere. Donation letters spread across the desk. A giantwhiteboard full of schedules and vet appointments. But as soon as I sit down, I feel off balance, like part of me is still back at that massive house. The feeling hits me hard, and Jules notices right away.
He closes the office door behind him and leans against it with his iced coffee in hand.
“All right,” he says. “Talk, missy.”
I drop into my chair. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Maggie.”
“Jules.”
“You have your romance-novel face.”
“I don’t have a romance novel face,” I say, shuffling paperwork on the desk.
“You absolutely do.”
I busy myself looking over adoption applications.
Jules snorts. “Oh, Miss Magnolia is nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You alphabetized the donation receipts yesterday.”
I freeze.
Traitor.
His grin widens.
“Oh wow,” he murmurs. “Youlikehim.”
I stare down at the paperwork in my hand, and that probably answers the question all by itself. Generally, I’d already have a smart comment ready. Instead, my chest feels tight and tangled in a way I don’t know how to explain.
Jules pushes away from the door and drops into the chair across from me.
“Okay,” he says more gently. “How’d dinner go?”
I don’t look up, twisting the pen between my fingers.
“Oh Lord.” He points his finger at me. “That expression means feelings.”
“I hate when you’re observant.”
