Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
PHIL
As much as I don’t want to believe this place is real, I’ve lived in LA and been around enough rich people at work to know it really, really is.
A private, members-only dog park with a café, bar, and lounge that requires members to be vetted ahead of time, hosts regular social events, and costs as much for yearly membership as my monthly rent.
I fucking love it.
So does Vivi, and while Griff is trying to reserve judgment, I can tell he’s impressed, too—especially when our guide shows us the area reserved for dogs under twenty pounds who might be timid around larger animals.
Not that Vivi seems to have that problem.
She passed the club’s socialization assessment like a champ and has happily played with three different dogs so far.
“Well,” Griff says when our guide excuses herself to help a colleague, “I guess this is a good idea.”
I scoff. “You’re the only one who can decide that, but I think Vivi’s vote is yes.” I gesture to where his princess is frolicking with a Great Dane who already appears to worship her.
He watches her with a smile. “She’s having fun. Okay.” He turns back to our guide as she rejoins us. “Tell me more about the social events.”
Her smile widens as she senses a new membership.
“We have at least one every week, and they vary in type. Some are for both dogs and their owners, like our weekly bootcamps, and other times it will be a spa day for our members—though always with owner supervision. Next week, we have a trivia night for owners while our members will be free to play, and most weekends during the summer, we have a DJ here for a general mixer. The schedule of upcoming events is on the website and we’re constantly updating it. ”
I’m surprised by how fun that all sounds.
“And, of course, even if there isn’t an event on, the bar, café, and lounge are open for owners to use while our members are enjoying their outside time.
The park is open from seven in the morning until nine at night, seven days a week.
The bar opens at noon, the café closes at five, and both are closed on some holidays. ”
I stay silent, but not because I can’t speak. This is a decision for Griff to make. Being open until nine is probably going to weigh heavily in favor, though, since it means he’ll be able to bring Vivi some nights after work.
He smiles wryly. “Let’s do it.”
“Great!” There isn’t a trace of smug victory in her voice, just happy enthusiasm.
They might charge out the wazoo here, but they’re also genuinely dog people.
“You already sent in all the necessary vaccination records, so all we need is the name you want us to use on a day-to-day basis, like when we say hi or you RSVP for an event.” She pulls a face.
“As fabulous as Vivienne Westwood Pevensy is, it’s a mouthful. ”
I laugh out loud, and she winks at me.
“She goes by Vivi,” Griff says, sliding an arm around my shoulders, a possessive move that thrills me down to my toes.
Not that it was warranted, but still… I love that he wants everyone to know we’re together.
I reach up to cover his hand with mine and grin.
I’m sure that this sappy first rush of feelings will soon wear off, but until then, I’m enjoying every single second.
Vivi wanders over to us as our guide bustles off to get the paperwork. She puts her paws on my leg, giving me big pleading eyes. I immediately scoop her up.
“You spoil her,” Griff accuses, but he’s smiling.
I snort. “Look who’s talking. Anyway, she’s all worn out and deserves some pampering right now.”
“Yeah.” He’s still smiling at me, a soft, indulgent look on his face as he brings his phone up and points it toward me.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“You’re gorgeous, and you’re holding my baby. I want to immortalize this.”
I swear, my heart melts. “Get in it with me.”
He doesn’t need any convincing, coming to stand beside me. He flips the phone to selfie mode, and we lean into each other, our heads together, and Vivi stretches out a paw to tap her daddy’s arm.
I’m so happy, I could burst.
Wednesday morning, Calla calls me just as I’m walking into the building, and I answer with a teasing, “Aw, you miss me that much?”
The truth is, I miss her. I’ve spent three out of the past four nights at Griff’s place, and that means I’ve only seen her at work. Considering I’m used to spending nearly all day, every day with her, it’s a big difference. Not that I’d change my time with Griff, but still….
“You sound… good,” she says cautiously, and my stomach drops as I push the button for the elevator.
“Why wouldn’t I? Has something happened?”
She sighs. “No, it’s fine. You’ve been papped.”
I blink a few times, trying to process what she means, and step almost blindly into the elevator when the doors open. “I have? What do you mean?”
“Are you far?” she asks instead of answering, which is damn rude of her.
“No, I’m in the elevator. Calla, what—”
“Great, see you soon.” She hangs up before I can demand answers.
I grit my teeth through the rest of the very short elevator ride that seems to last an eternity, anxiety beginning to churn in my stomach. I’m a nobody—how could I possibly have been papped?
The elevator doors open on my floor, and Kyle’s waiting for me with a concerned frown. “Hey, Phil. Can I get you a coffee?”
He asks me that every morning he beats me here, but usually he’s smiling. My anxiety amps up. “Tea, please. Chamomile.” I’m probably going to need it. “You’ve seen…? How bad is it?”
“It’s not that bad,” he says immediately. “But you should talk to Calla.”
Unsurprisingly, that doesn’t reassure me at all. I concentrate on my breathing as I turn away to swipe my security card.
In the showroom, Calla, Heidi, and Deeanne are already in, crowded around Dee’s desk, and they look up when I walk through the doors.
“What is it?” I demand, not bothering to say good morning.
“It’s not awful,” Calla assures me. “Everything’s okay.”
I glare at her, because if it was okay, she wouldn’t have called me.
“I think it’s sweet,” Dee pipes up. “If you ignore the invasion of privacy. Though can you assume privacy when you’re in a public space?”
Heidi gives me a commiserating smile, then nudges Deeanne. “Scoot out of the way so Phil can see.”
Dee moves, and my gaze lands on her screen. She’s got a web browser open to TMZ—ugh, really?—and under the screaming headline COLLABORATION OR COPULATION? are two photos of me and Griff.
“That headline is shit” is what comes out of my mouth, but my brain is racing as I take in the photos.
First, relief that they’re not explicit.
Not that I expect photographers to be peering in Griff’s windows, but then I didn’t expect them to take photos of us on the street either.
Why would they? We’re not celebrities. We’re barely even celebrity adjacent.
Unless someone’s talking about clothes, neither of us warrants a mention in the gossip press.
The pics were taken last night. The one on the left is of us having dinner.
The place we went to isn’t considered a celebrity hot spot, but it can be good for a sighting every once in a while.
I didn’t see anyone famous there last night, but I guess the photographer was trying their luck and recognized one of us.
The quality of the photos is too good for them to have been taken by an amateur—and anyway, who outside of the business would even know or care who we are?
The photo on the right was taken after we paid the check and got up to leave.
Griff straightened the lapel of my jacket, and I rewarded him with a kiss.
Pursing my lips, I study the pic. It’s really good.
Like, we both look great and happy and totally head over heels for each other.
I might try to save a copy later to use for my lock screen wallpaper.
“This isn’t bad,” I say finally, relieved. It must have been a super slow night in gossip news for this to make the site, and I’m sure it’ll disappear into an archive by noon.
Heidi and Calla exchange a glance, and Dee scrolls so I can see the few paragraphs of text under the photos. My anxiety comes flooding back as I read, joined by anger.
“That fucker!” I don’t know who wrote this, but the nickname fits.
“Is this libel? They’re practically accusing me and Griff of—of…
some kind of professional misconduct.” Which is a reach, since no announcement has been made about me dressing any of Griff’s clients.
Basically, the “article” is insinuating that we might exploit a personal relationship to boost each other’s careers.
My phone rings, and I know before looking who it is. We were both too preoccupied to check our phones last night and running late this morning because shower sex is awesome, so he was probably greeted at the office the same way I was.
“Hi. Did you see?”
“Sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
Aw. He sounds worried, and I hate it. “Not your fault—I kissed you, remember? I’m just pissed about the way they made it seem like we’re being sleazy.
When the press releases go out about our collabs, people are going to remember this.
” Is this going to impact our business? I glance over at Calla.
She’s the one who handles PR and marketing.
She shakes her head and gives me a reassuring smile.
“People would probably say shit anyway when they found out we’re together. I’ve told the clients who would be affected, and nobody who matters is going to care. You know how incestuous this industry can be. Everyone’s dating everyone else, and most of them are married to other people already.”
That’s true. “So it’s not going to impact your work?”
“No way. Damian laughed and congratulated me on getting the company’s name in print. This kind of publicity is good.”
Calla, who’s standing close enough to hear him because she has no concept of personal space, nods emphatically.
Then she says, “We might post a photo of you two on your socials with a caption about how you’re official now or something.
Make it clear you’re not sneaking around and get people on your side.
People love love, and you’re cute together. ”
Griff must hear that, because he says, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. What about the selfie I took of us at the dog park?”
That’s another great photo of us leaning against each other and Vivi snuggled up in my arms. “Okay, that’s a plan.
Calla will come up with the caption and send it over for you to approve and post.” My anxiety starts to settle, but I still smile gratefully at Kyle when he hands me a mug of fragrant tea.
I’ve managed to stay verbal, but depending on what the rest of the day brings, that might not last.
“We’re good?” Griff asks. “Do you want me to come there?”
Calla’s hands come up to clasp in front of her chest, and she gives me a swoony face. I’m pretty sure I have heart eyes right now, so I can’t even be mad. “We’re good, babe. I’m okay.”
He heaves a relieved sigh. “Good. I’ll wait for Calla’s text, but call me if you need anything. See you later?”
“Definitely. Dog park tonight for trivia, remember?” I’m weirdly excited about it. “Hey, Griff?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“How fucking hot do we look in that photo?”
Calla bursts out laughing so hard, I think she might sprain a rib. Heidi and Kyle smother their chuckles, but Dee stares at me with her mouth open.
“We’re smokin’, sweetheart.”