I saw the three dots as she typed.
I wasn’t going to get into an argument with her over it, because the last time I did that, she had turned out to be right.
What if she’s right this time, too? a little voice whispered. Okay, universe, I said. If he likes me, he will come back to the van. If I have to go to him, he doesn’t.
It was childish, but now that I’d set up an imaginary test, we’d just see what happened next.
And I’ll admit that now I was taking my time with Magnus, because a part of me was hoping Noah would come back to the van, but he didn’t.
Giving in and acknowledging the sign the universe had just given me about Noah’s lack of interest, I asked Magnus if he’d like a bow. I held up a blue one and he sniffed it, and so I took that as approval.
I tied it on him, and since he didn’t rip it off immediately, I considered it a win. “Come on, boy, let’s get you back inside before you mess up all my work.” I attached the leash to his collar again and led him to the front door. I rang the doorbell, and even though I knew what was going to happen, even though I’d been expecting it, I still felt bowled over when Noah answered it.
Especially since his hair was wet and slicked back from his strong face. Although I’d always had definite opinions regarding what I preferred in men’s haircuts (clean-cut), when it came to him, I didn’t care what he did or didn’t do. I was a fan of it all.
He’d changed into a different pair of jeans and a black hoodie. He smelled clean, like soap and shampoo, and I stopped myself from dragging in a deep breath.
“All done!” I said, too brightly.
“I can see that.” His burning gaze floated down over my soaked clothing. Self-conscious, I pulled the wet cloth away from my body. “Do you need to come in and dry off?”
Heart pounding loudly in my chest, I said, “No, I’m good. It’s all part of the job. Thanks.” Not to mention that if he kept looking at me like that, my wet shirt was going to catch on fire.
And despite my saying it was fine, he stepped back to let me into the living room. My feet moved of their own volition so that it surprised me a little when he closed the door. Stupid, traitorous feet. I gave him the leash, which he undid.
Then he asked in a disbelieving tone, “Why is my dog wearing a bow?”
“Magnus likes it.”
“He also likes to eat his own vomit, so he’s not really my go-to guy when it comes to judgment.”
“Well, I like it, too.”
And despite his tone, he left the bow. It surprised me. Magnus yawned, apparently bored by us, and padded out of the room.
“How much do I owe you?” Noah asked.
“For a dog Magnus’s size, I charge sixty dollars.”
He pulled out a black leather wallet from his back pocket. “Sorry, I only have this. I spent the last month in Europe.” He handed me a bill that looked like fake money. Like something from a board game. Was it real?
The only way I knew how to verify money was either by holding it up to the light or biting on it like they did with coins in old cartoons. Either way, I had no idea what I was looking for. “What is this?”
“Five hundred euros.”
I didn’t know what the current exchange rate was, but I figured that was much closer to five hundred dollars than fifty. “I don’t have any change on me.”
“Keep it. As a tip.”
This was too much. “You can’t tip me four hundred and forty dollars.”
“They’re not dollars. They’re euros.”
“You know what I mean,” I said in frustration. “You can’t tip me that much.”
“Why not?” He seemed genuinely puzzled.
“It’s extravagant and, I don’t know, kind of . . . demeaning.”
“Or it’s incredibly generous.” Now he was starting to sound annoyed.
I handed the bill back to him. “You can just Venmo me or something.”
“I don’t have any apps on my phone.”
“You don’t . . .” I was dumbfounded. “What do you have on it?”
“An actual phone. Email. Sometimes I text,” he said defensively. “My fingers are big and those screens are small. It’s annoying. Besides, I’ve never been much into social media.”
That at least I understood. “Me neither.”
“I know.”
My lower jaw dropped slightly. “How do you know that?”
But he didn’t answer. He went back into his wallet and pulled out a different bill. “The smallest denomination I have is a hundred euros.”
“You say that like I’m being the unreasonable one. I’m not the one trying to pay for services rendered with Monopoly money.” That got me a half smile, and my heart fluttered happily in response. Uh-oh. Time for me to go.
“Consider it hazard pay for coming over so late.”
Nodding, I took the hundred euros, and even though it was definitely too much, I didn’t want to prolong this whole encounter. “Okay, well, I should get going. Thanks for the opportunity. Magnus is a great dog. Enjoy your interview tomorrow.”
“Wait.” His hand was on my arm, and it was like being pumped full of thousands of volts of electricity all at once. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Oh?” My voice actually squeaked.
He took one step closer. “So, about the other night. When we met.”
My brain rushed in to say something, to change the subject from wherever this was going. “Why did you call me to take care of Magnus? There are a thousand other mobile groomers in LA that you could have called.”
He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Most people in my life want something from me. Or they are blinded by my fame and treat me differently. You didn’t. And I realized I could trust you.”
“How?”
“When the story of us meeting didn’t show up in a tabloid or on a website or splashed all over Twitter.”
“Why would it?” Don’t get me wrong, I loved gossip as much as the next girl, but what would that headline be? SEAT FILLER BICKERS WITH AND PUTS DOWN INTERNATIONALLY BELOVED SUPERSTAR? I didn’t need that kind of backlash from the Noah Douglas Hive in my life, thanks.
“You’d be surprised.”
Somehow he moved even closer, and my heart beat so fast in my chest that it hurt.
He added, “I was hoping that I could see you again. In a non–dog grooming capacity.”
My breathing went shallow. Needing distance, I walked over to his front window and looked out at the incredible view—there were lights in the valley beneath us for what felt like miles. I found that I wanted to say yes. And that scared me more than anything else.
I didn’t want to date anyone, and for reasons I couldn’t say, Noah Douglas was the absolute last man on earth that I could ever date.
I turned to look at him. “Why?” I asked, having to know at least that. Why me? When he could, quite literally, have anyone? The most beautiful and talented women in the world probably routinely threw themselves at him. There was nothing special or important about me. I was just a regular person living a regular life.