Page 12 of You and Me, For Real
“She’s…friendly.”
I laugh. “Yes. She rarely meets a person she doesn’t like. Unless they’re some kind of animal-hater. Then you do not want to mess with her.” I gesture for him to reenter the examination room. “I’ll just wrap up this girl’s leg to keep it clean. We’ll get that paperwork signed, and I’ll have you on your way.”
“Okay. How will tomorrow work? Will you give me your number?”
My cheeks turn pink, and my eyes meet his.
“I mean, am I supposed to call you? Do I call the shelter?”
Oh, right. Of course. “I’ll be sure to give you a card with the shelter’s number on it.”
“Great.” He tugs on his ear, looking at the dog. “And if I have any questions before then?”
“You mean in the less-than-twenty-four-hours you’ll have the dog?”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, well, you know, in case there’s an emergency or something.”
How could this gorgeously confident TV star be so charmingly adorable? Then again, I know all about charm. Charm is deceptive. And I’m not eighteen anymore. I won’t be fooled.
“I think you’ll manage just fine. She’s exhausted. I imagine after a good meal and plenty of water, she’ll sleep the majority of the time she’s in your care.”
Lynn bustles in, waving the paperwork. “I’m back! Here’s everything you need.”
“Great.” I pull off the latex gloves with a smack and toss them in the trash. “Lynn will get you all taken care of. Thanks for bringing her in. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
“If you’ll just sign here.” Lynn points to the bottom of the document.
I turn to leave.
“Ashton?”
I spin back around to face him.
Griffin’s hand is poised over the document, a smile playing on his lips. “Til tomorrow then?”
“See you then.” I smile and tap the door frame with my hand before exiting. My heart palpitates to a new upbeat rhythm, but I tell the dumb thing to quit it.
4
GRIFFIN
“Son, this is a mistake, bringing a dog to a photoshoot. It’s unprofessional.”
Dad crosses his arms, his suit’s shoulder pads inching upward. He looks completely out of place inside my hair and makeup tent on the beach as I stand in nothing but swim trunks.
But that’s my father, ever the businessman. Never one to take a day off—at least where I’m concerned. I can’t remember our last conversation that didn’t pertain to my career. At least I still talk to him, unlike my mom, whom I haven’t heard from in months.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep the dog contained, Thomas,” Luke pipes up from the corner of the tent while the makeup artist finishes my spray tan.
The dog sleeps curled on the opposite side of the tent, resting on my gym clothes.
“Besides, it doesn’t appear to be a very difficult job.” Luke looks at his phone and types. “I’ve got a delivery of dog food and supplies headed here now.”
“Perfect. More distractions.” Dad throws his hands in the air.
Speaking of distractions, my mind continues to wander back to the shelter and a particular blonde who seemed completely unfazed by my fame. It was refreshing. For a brief moment, I almost felt like a normal human being living a perfectly average life. It didn’t hurt that she was adorable. My gosh, that line about my shirt. My burst of laughter was the most natural thing I’ve done in weeks.
“Turn.”
