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A young teen bounds into the room with a squeal. Upon first glance, I can tell she’s the spitting image of her mom, except her hair is more auburn than dark brown. That little string around my heart cinches.
“Oh my gosh! She’s so cute!” Presumably Evelyn crouches down and claps her hands while making kissy noises. “Here, girl.”
I tuck my hands into the short pockets of my black jeans. “Ghost is really special because she’s deaf and blind.”
Evelyn’s expression morphs into one of awe. “Oh, wow. Teach me her commands.”
My heart warms at the instant love for my baby. These two haven’t batted a single eyelash at her breed, and Evelyn is nothing short of eager to learn how to communicate with her. I lower from my shoulder the bag containing all Ghost’s special items.
After a short tutorial on how to orient Ghost in her new surrounding with the help of the special mats, we follow Evelyn and Ghost outside for a quick trot around the yard. Cami and I lean against opposite railings as we watch them play, but my time here nears a close. I have to get going to my first client.
I worry my lip. “I think she’s got the hang of it already. Thank you so much for taking her today.”
Cami waves my words away. “I have a feeling she’ll be up to dog sitting any time she’s free.” Her head turns in my direction, and her brows crease. “I promise she’ll be okay.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Honey, you look like a new momma dropping her infant off on her first day of daycare. I would know. I went through it, and it was rough.” There isn’t a hint of condescension to be detected. She clasps her hands beneath her chin. “We’re going to take the best care of her.”
I blow out an exaggerated breath and shake my hands out at my side. “I know.”
A gentle palm lands on my shoulder. “Take your time.”
It’s my turn to wave a hand in front of my face. “I’m being silly. I’m going. I’ll be back this afternoon.”
Cami and Evelyn watch me return to my car and drive away.
Now that the first emotional aspect of my day is underway, my thoughts leech from my control and turn to other things. Rather than the anxiety about working with my first client, memories from the night before breach the barrier I established.
I spent half the night in my car parked just down from his, fighting with myself not to look over and see what he was doing. Was he asleep? Did he look over at me? Thoughts of returning to his car with an offer of reciprocation plagued me well past the point of starry darkness.
I let him bring me to an incredible orgasm and then fled the scene like an idiot. What else was I supposed to do? Even though he made me come with his hand, I wanted more. I wanted to go all the way. I wanted to see if he was as magnificently talented with other parts of his fit body. It didn’t help that he waved my offer away like a pesky mosquito.
What guy turns down a chance to get laid or, at the very least, a blow job?
I should have driven to another parking lot for the night. At least until the awkwardness could dissipate.
This morning, I had somewhere to be, removing time to dwell on Rhett and his many talents. After taking care of Ghost and a quick bite to eat, I sped out of there without checking to see if he was awake.
My reminiscing ends as I pull onto a winding road just outside the city limits. The GPS advises the destination is up ahead. What I don’t expect is the mammoth two-story structure that emerges from behind tall, sentinel pine trees. The woman failed to specify that her home was more than three thousand square feet and might take days to clean. Holy crap. I didn’t have clients with houses like this back home. I hope she’s willing to discuss expectations and fair pay.
My Lexus looks drab parked next to her Mercedes. My caddy is heavy but still manageable as I drag it from the back seat and up the concrete walk to her front door. When I ring the doorbell, I half expect a butler to answer and not the slender woman with strawberry-blond hair pulled into a sleek ponytail.
“Glad you could make it.”
Once I take over opening the door, she spins on her heel and retreats through the open foyer.
I swap my shoes for a pair of clean slip-ons to wear while I work and leave my caddy to search for my client. I find her in the kitchen supervising her young son with his breakfast. At the vast open-plan space, I amend my earlier assessment. Definitely closer to four thousand square feet.
“This is Tommy. And I’m Nora. We skipped introductions the other day.”
“I’m Evie. I’ve brought a contract for you to look over. We should also discuss expectations and agree on
wages before I get started.” I had the foresight to print off spares before I left home in Colorado, knowing it’d be a while before I could afford to create more. The blank template is perfect for tailoring to each specific client’s needs and rates, and only contains my first and last name.
She removes the papers from my grip only to slide them across the counter. “I’m sure everything is in order. And whatever your rates are is fine.”
I straighten at her dismissive tone. “It’s important we’re on the same page—”
