Page 29 of You and Me, For Real
She breezes past me and shoulders her purse before grabbing her keys off the counter.
I have nothing against Scarlet. She’s a good person. Just notmyperson. “Look, Scarlet, about scheduling a date?—"
She holds her manicured finger in the air. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll plan everything.”
I exhale a sigh, knowing that once again I’m yielding to someone else’s wishes over my own. Scarlet, much like my father, overlooks my own desires and often makes decisions without considering my opinions. It’s yet another reason we’ve never felt like a good fit. I want a partner. Not a pulverizer.
I need to make my boundaries clearer between us if what Luke said is true, but I can’t afford to tick her off or, inadvertently, her father. The situation is delicate. I need time to formulate the perfect script to let her down easy. Maybe a public outing together isn’t such a bad idea. “Sure. Sounds good.”
She hugs me briefly with a peck on my cheek. “I’ll be in touch.”
Yeah…that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
9
ASHTON
Ican’t believe I let Lynn talk me into this.
I set a brisk pace at the park for Teddy and me, hoping to exercise out my nerves before the training session with Griffin. The California spring weather today is perfect—sunny, with a light breeze, putting enough chill in the morning air for me to grab a light jacket. I zip it to my neck as protective armor to keep me from jumping out of my skin.
This scenario is exactly what I’ve tried to avoid all these years. Okay, not thisexactscenario. The training part is wonderful actually. A dream. But the client? The opposite of who I’d like to be around. But per Lynn’s prodding—shoving the phone into my hands—I agreed to this training session. She insisted having such a client would provide connections and referrals I wouldn’t otherwise get. Meaning funding to get my rescue foundation started.
The ridiculous amount he agreed to pay me via our text exchange yesterday nearly made me weep. Five hundred dollars? It’s ludicrous, really. But he set the amount. Who am I to argue?
The overwhelming brightness of this unique opportunity overshadows his fame so long as we can maintain a low profile. It’s my one condition. Well, two, if you count being allowed to bring Teddy.
“Good boy, Teddy. One more lap.”
I increase our speed. Since Roxy’s still uneasy around other humans, I hope having a canine friend will help make her more comfortable.
We reach our destination, a park bench. I sit, pull out my water, and pour Teddy a drink in his collapsible bowl. He eagerly laps it.
From my peripheral vision, a man dressed in black from head to toe approaches. I cup my hand to my forehead to guard against the sun. My eyes travel up from a pair of charcoal cross-trainers to black joggers—snug against muscular thighs—to a fitted black sports tee, stretched across a chest with distinct swells, up to the brilliant grin of a man who looks like a boy about to open a giant birthday present.
“Here and ready to learn, Teach.” Griffin claps his hands together and rubs them back and forth.
I raise my eyebrows. “Is the all black supposed to make you stand out less?”
He glances at his attire and then looks at me. “You think I stand out?”
“Uh, yeah. Kind of hard not to when you’re…well…you.” My cheeks heat, and I avoid his gaze by grabbing Teddy’s bowl.
“Well Ms. Reid, I do believe there’s a compliment in there somewhere.”
“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.” I stand and scan the surrounding park. While I doubt he announces his outings publicly, I’m also very familiar with the paparazzi’s ability to be extremely stealthy and resourceful.
Griffin leans sideways, blocking my view. “You okay?”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
His brow creases.
“Roxy?”
“Oh, right, of course. I had trouble getting her to leave the car, so I recruited some help.” He shifts to the side. The man from the shelter parking lot walks up. He’s dressed in casual jeans with holes in the knees and a white crew-neck T-shirt. He’s carrying Roxy. I’d guess he’s close to Griffin’s age. He possesses the same kind of tall, dark-hair, handsome look. However, it’s hard to read his expression with such large aviators covering most of his face.
Roxy wriggles in his arms, nearly climbing over his shoulder to escape. Poor girl.
