Scott shut his eyes, unwilling to keep looking at the pups. “Toby, that’s enough.”
“Sorry, but…one more look?”
Scott opened his eyes and saw his assistant mooning at him with an expression no dissimilar to the newborn puppies. He sighed. “Fine. I’llthinkabout it.”
And think about it, he did. Toby went outside to his desk and Scott began to think alternately about puppies and Samantha. The details of the previous night were like a crazy dream—the competition, the burgers, talking to her about their lives, her legs straining against his as she rocked backward and forward. He’d kissed her. He’d not only kissed Samantha DaSilva, he’d made her come without using his hands. There was something between them, now, he just needed to make sure he didn’t fuck it up.
But how?
How to show her he was serious without coming across like the love-sozzled virgin he’d been ten years ago? Asking her to look at puppies was a fairly unique and romantic situation. It would also show he was committed to staying in Melbourne…
On one hand, it was insane. On the other hand, it was all insane. The entire situation—Toby being in possession of several soon-to-be executed puppies—it smacked of coincidence—no, worse,fate. He didn’t believe in that airy-fairy bollocks. He was an atheist. He had a dead mother. He was a natural born citizen of Her Majesty’s England and he refused to accept the universe was throwing puppies in his lap.
And yet…
Before he could question this line of thought any further, he picked up his office phone and dialed Silver Daughters Ink. The phone rang once before…
“Silver Daughters Ink, this is Tabitha DaSilva speaking to your ears right now.”
Scott frowned. “Erm, hello Tabby, it’s—”
“Scottison! The big Scott! Scotty 2.0! How are you today, m’buddy?”
The problem with outrageously extroverted people was that you never knew if they were taking the piss or not. “I’m fine, how are you?”
“Good, mate, hungover as shit but I don’t have clients ’til two so I’m sweet. How did your night go?”
Scott had a vision of Samantha riding his lap, moaning, her hair slipping through his fingers like living silk.
“Awkward silence! That’s what I like to hear!” Tabby gave a mad cackle. “Anyway, enough about the gross things you did to my sister—what’s up? Why are you calling?”
Scott cleared his throat. “Could I, er, please speak to your sister? Samantha, I mean. If she’s not too busy.”
“What about?”
Scott frowned at the receiver. “Erm, can’t you just go and get Samantha?”
“No. Why d’you want to talk to her.”
Scott stared around his office, trying to think of better reasons for calling and was unable to come up with anything less creepy than the truth. “Look, I just want to talk to her about going to see some puppies because—”
Tabby gave a piercing squeal. “Puppies!?”
“Yes, now can I please—”
“What kind of puppies?”
He gritted his teeth. “Cocker Spaniel and Rottweiler crosses.”
She shrieked even louder than before. “That’s a thing?”
“Apparently, now—”
“When and where can I meet these puppies? Can it be now? Or at least today?”
“Tabby,” Scott said with all the force he could muster. “I like you, you seem nice and funny, but I want to talk to Samantha. Can you please get her?”
There was a short pause in which Tabby chewed gum loudly.