“I’ll talk to Sofia, but yeah, I think so. I’ll call the lawyer to draw up a contract. We can talk about details later.”
After shaking on it, Bren and I leave his penthouse and head a few floors down to Fritz’s apartment.
On time.
* * *
The next day is Saturday,and I get up early again. Lola is due to come clean in an hour, and while the place has stayed mostly clean, Pix and I did a number on her playroom and the kitchen. I jump out of bed and hurry to pick up Pix’s toys.
“I need to teach you to put your toys away,” I say, pretending to be annoyed, and her little ears pin back—her symbol of shame. Anytime I come home to Pix with her ears pinned back, I know she’s in for it. But it also happens when I scold her.
“And yes,” I tell her. “Before you ask, I realize I’m a total moron for cleaning up before my housekeeper arrives . . .” Pix’s head tilts to the side as she studies me.
Even though today’s job wouldn’t have taken her that long, I still want it to be done before she gets here. I’d rather spend the morning with her.
Once done, I feed Pix breakfast and let her out into the backyard. When we come back inside, I hear the front door click closed, and I know she just got here. As I smile, Pixel works herself up into a bark and lunges toward the front door. “Pixel, no! It’s Lola.”
I follow her, and by the time I reach them, Lola is on her knees, Pixel propped up against her, licking her face. Lola squints and makes a disgusted face but leans into Pix’s kisses.
And my heart soars. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“That’s a good girl,” Lola says in a playful, deep voice as she pets her. Pix’s tail wags with appreciation of the praise. Then Lola takes something out of her pocket and feeds it to Pixel with a massive grin on her face. Her eyes find me across the foyer. “I came prepared this time,” she says.
I laugh. “What is that?” I ask.
“Peanut butter treat. There’s this doggy bakery in Leawood near an apartment I cleaned this morning. I stopped by before coming over.”
I blink at her. “You already finished a job this morning?”
She nods. “It’s a small apartment, and the guy is rather neat, so it doesn’t take that long.”
My stomach knots at thinking of her alone in a small apartment with a random guy. Is this job of hers safe? I can’t ask her, though. I’ll sound insane.
She stands up from her petting duties and steps deeper into the house, looking around. “Um, I guess you haven’t been home much. It’s the same as last week.”
“I’ve been home, but I maintained it.”
“Guess you don’t need me then?” she says, almost disappointed.
I want to think she’s disappointed at the prospect of losing our time together, but it’s probably the loss of another big paycheck. “No,” I hasten to correct her. “I do need you. If you could dust, so it stays as clean as you left it, that’d be great.”
She crosses her arms in front of her. “You want me to just dust?”
I nod. “Maybe clean the countertops in the kitchen? Oh, and you didn’t do the inside of the fridge last time,” I add, trying to find work that will make her stay. Cleaning up ahead of time was the stupidest idea I’d ever had. “And you’ll get paid, of course.”
“Fine, but you’ll pay me a lot less since the job is so much smaller now.”
“Deal.”
“And I won’t dust your axes,” she says with a smirk.
As she works on the few tasks I’ve given her, I find excuses to go into whatever room she’s in and sneak glances at her. I don’t understand this need to be in the same room with her, but it brings the biggest, stupidest smile to my face. Pixel, too. Her tail hasn’t stopped wagging since Lola showed up, and she’s been following her around the house as she works.
She leaves cleaning the kitchen for last, and I sneak in to grab a glass of orange juice before she gets started on the fridge. I sit at the island to watch her work, and there’s a hint of a smile in the corner of her lips. She takes her headphones off so we can have a conversation.
“You never told me why you keep your peanut butter in the fridge.”
“That’s expensive, organic, small-batch peanut butter, I’ll have you know. No preservatives. It needs to be refrigerated.”