Chapter Two
Jilly: I saw your panel photo. Wrinkled shirt again.
Jack: Emotionally matched the topic.
Jilly: Wear the black one I got you.
Jack: You mean the one that “brings out my soul”?
Jilly: You know I'm right.
Jack: About what? Me having a soul or what to wear?
Jilly: Both, naturally.
GUY'S EXPECTATIONS about Poppy's friend started unraveling as soon as his sports car's GPS directed him into a gated neighborhood named Sunshine Villas.
The entrance itself was modest: a single security booth and an elderly guard who merely nodded at him after checking his name against a visitor list. No cameras. No biometric scanners. Nothing that would suggest any of the residents had something particularly valuable to protect.
The woman he had pictured in his mind was the type to live in a flashy downtown condo, the kind who wouldn't feel comfortable if living anywhere without a bustling night life. But this place, though?
The neighborhood was more in line with how Poppy had described her friend, and more and more, Guy began to feel as if he was missing something as he eventually pulled up in front of a modest two-story brick home.
Was that a glass aviary...built above what looked to be a master bedroom designed for a cat?
It was the most bizarrely charming residence, with a series of wooden ramps zigzagging up one exterior wall and a miniature but functional fountain that looked as if it belonged to an old French chateau.
Guy killed the engine and sat for a moment, reassessing the situation. Was this really the right house?
The sound of crickets filled his ears as he stepped out of the car, and the air around him smelled.
..fresh. Almost as fresh, in fact, as what he enjoyed in his ranch in Evergreen.
And completely unalike the smoke-and-perfume atmosphere of most establishments that his work occasionally obliged him to frequent.
Guy pressed the doorbell, hearing a soft, musical chime echo inside followed by the unmistakable sound of several animals responding to the noise. Barking, meowing, and was that a squawk?
"I'm coming!"
If he had heard such words from another woman, he would have thought of it as an innuendo. But this time, though?
As much as Guy hated to admit it, he was no longer certain of what to expect...but he had his answer as soon as the door opened.
Ah .
It was not an innuendo, after all...since one look at Poppy's friend, and Guy knew right away she was the kind of woman he would enjoy corrupting ruining educating...about the birds and the bees.
Short blond hair with tousled waves that were still slightly wet from the shower. Jade-green eyes that were now wide with shock behind her grandmother-style glasses. An oversized blazer over her silk blouse and linen slacks. And when she finally spoke—
"Sir?"
Guy was extremely tempted to read that as an invitation to play master-and-servant. But since the way she croaked the word out did hint of genuine nervousness—
"Jillian Kitt?"
He decided to play the gentleman, and what do you know?
His no-longer-blind date looked as if she was now ready to swoon, just like a Victorian lady would.
"Am I too early?" he asked politely.
Her mouth opened and closed, reminding him of a goldfish. A rather attractive goldfish, if such a thing existed.
"I said I'd be here ten minutes to eight."
"Y-You're the pet sitter? "
"Indeed I am," Guy confirmed without missing a beat. Contrary to what the minority online had to say, he did not win an Oscar on the strength of his looks alone. But more importantly than that—
Well played, Mrs. Rossfield.
When Poppy had briefly excused herself to go to the ladies that night, Valerian had told Guy to 'brace himself'.
No man's cynicism is a match for my wife's enthusiasm.
And indeed that was true, since never in Guy's life had he imagined he would willingly play the role of a 'pet sitter' if that was what it took to claim the woman he instantly desired.
"I, um..."
His date's hesitation was evident, and any man with a conscience would have likely asked her what was wrong and give her a chance to back out.
But since being a gentleman was simply a role he played and not his true self...
"Poppy was very clear about me being of service." It was a complete lie, of course, but he had always been a great believer of the ends justifying the means. "And since I owe her husband a favor..."
"I see..."
The words had her chewing on her lip, and Guy found himself thinking about certain parts of him that she was very much welcomed to chew.
How refreshing it was, Guy mused, to want a woman this badly and be intrigued by her at the same time. He couldn't even recall the last time he had dated a woman that fit the same description. Perhaps never?
"The thing is..."
Realizing that she was about to turn him down, Guy didn't hesitate to smile—the exact same smile that had earned him nearly a billion dollars from a romantic comedy that every other A-list actor had turned down but him—and masculine satisfaction blazed inside of him when he saw her cheeks immediately turn pink.
Good.
She might be wary of him, but she was not immune to him.
He could definitely work with that.
But in the meantime...
"I'm a fast learner," Guy said cajolingly, "so why not give me a try?"
The double entendre wasn't lost on him, but she seemed oblivious to it as she hesitated, clearly torn.
"I was told you had somewhere important to go?"
No one had told him any such thing, but this was easy enough to deduce, and it also proved to be the magic words that had his date taking a deep breath—
Finally.
—before saying, "Could you give me a minute?"
Guy had no chance of replying, with Jillian already slamming the door on his face.
The sound reverberated in the quiet evening air, and Guy found himself staring at the closed door with a mixture of amusement, inexplicable desire, and that felt dangerously like genuine interest.