Page 4 of The Naughty List
This is my life now.
Hollis Rossi, Head Dog Walker in Charge of Man’s Best Friend for the infamous and illusive Jonah X.
It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.
Unlike my first day, I dress appropriately now. Flat shoes, comfy leggings, and a soft, charcoal-colored pullover to hide the dog fur.
Between the generous amount Jonah pays me to care for his pets and bartending at my brother’s tavern nights and weekends, I do pretty well for myself. I just put an offer in on an amazing condo downtown and if I get the job I’ve applied for at the WDA, I’ll be able to buy new furniture to fill it.
There’s a fireplaceandbuilt-in bookshelves, which I’ve decided mean I have arrived.
Finally.
“Remember you said we could meet when I got back. We still on for lunch?”
“You’ve reminded me five times, Hollis. I haven’t forgotten. I’ll see you later.”
I disconnect the call with a squeal.
Why am I squealing about an informal lunch meeting? Because Jonah’s assistant Eli just quit. He’s been hired as a buyer for Prada.
Which means yours truly should be next in line for the job. I already walk his dogs, pick up his dry cleaning, do his grocery shopping, and vet his dates.
Okay, so he doesn’t know about that last one. But when a hot mess in heels showed up at his door last month with a shirt that said #golddigger, I told her he had the stomach flu.
I might have clutched my stomach and made puking noises until she left.
Don’t get me wrong, I know my boss dates. Of course he does. He’s sinfully sexy and practically edible. But his tastes are…lacking.
I try not to judge other women, really I do. I’m not perfect and I’m no one to be judging anyone else. I’m twenty-four and just now moving out of my parents’ house for goodness sakes.
But Jonah plays fast and loose with women. They show up, sometimes half drunk, always half-dressed. He spends the weekend with whichever one, sometimes more than one, then they’re gone.
I don’t know where he finds them. But they’re reckless and well… a little scary. They hop on his motorcycle like it’s no big, do God knows what with him all weekend, then they vanish and he never mentions them again.
Addison likes to joke that he’s a serial killer. But I know better.
He’s a serial womanizer with no regard for himself or others.
Jonah has a very strict diet and schedule.
Vegan everything.
Work himself to death all week.
Fuck himself to death all weekend.
Really, I’m just worried because he’s pushing thirty and needs to settle down with a nice girl.
I know what you’re thinking. No, I don’t mean me.
I could never date Jonah. First of all, like the rest of the world, I literally don’t know his last name.
Secondly, I’m not tattooed, pierced, and pumped full of facial fillers and silicone. So I’m definitely not his type.
Nothing wrong with those things and if I had the money for them, I’d definitely consider having some work done. But if I starting spending my income on tattoos and Botox I’d never be able to afford to move out on my own.
I’m pretty sure Jonah thinks I’m boring. And that’s fine. Maybe I am.
