“Thank God,” G.G. said, relaxing in his chair and smiling at her. Shaking his head, he added, “Actually, I suppose I should be thanking Marguerite. She’s the one who suggested you might be able to help me.”
“Marguerite did?” Ildaria asked with surprise.
“Yeah. When she called this morning about the blood, we got to talking and I was telling her about H.D.’s sitter quitting and needing a bookkeeper and she mentioned that you were taking accounting and looking for a job. And then she suggested sending you to pick up the blood instead of my having it delivered so that I could meet and talk to you. I thought that would take care of at least one of my problems, but instead, H.D. likes you and it handles both of my problems.” He smiled widely at the realization that his troubles were over and then said, “I really need to send her flowers or something.”
Ildaria smiled faintly in response, but asked, “So this was a job interview?”
He grinned and nodded, the expression making him look ridiculously adorable. The man was a big teddy bear . . . with tattoos, piercings, and a bright green Mohawk.
“So when can you start?” G.G. asked abruptly, his expression serious again.
“How about now?” she asked lightly, and then paused to frown. “No. I guess I need to take the blood home to Marguerite first. And then I should probably change into something more professional, but I could start after that. Maybe in two hours?” she asked and then explained, “It’ll be rush hour traffic when I head back or I’d say sooner.”
G.G. smiled faintly, but shook his head. “Take the blood to Marguerite and relax tonight, get anything done that you think will need doing and you can start tomorrow,” he suggested, and then pointed out, “It’s nearly sunset, and I wouldn’t have time to show you the books and how they’re done before opening anyway. Tomorrow you can come in at say . . . four? Then we can go over the books so you know what you’re doing.”
Ildaria nodded easily, happy to start whenever he wanted.
“Good. Then I’ll go get that blood for Marguerite so you can be on your way.”
“What about H.D.?” Ildaria asked with concern as he stood up. “What will you do with him tonight?”
G.G. hesitated and then shrugged unhappily. “One night in my office won’t kill him. I’ll just make sure there’s nothing lying around for him to eat.”
“Or I could take him home with me,” Ildaria suggested quietly, and then added, “On the house.”
G.G.’s eyes flew up in surprise, but then he shook his head with regret.
Before he could say no, though, she added, “I don’t mind. Besides, I’d be upset thinking about him being stuck locked up in your office all night long . . . and I would bring him back with me tomorrow. That way he wouldn’t be on his own and get into anything.”
The large man hesitated briefly, but then considered aloud, “It’s usually 7 or 8 a.m. or so before I finish cleanup and go up to my apartment. All I do is take H.D. out for a pee break, and then it’s to bed. I sleep until three—” Pausing, he explained, “That’s why I suggested you return at four. It would give me time for breakfast and a cup of coffee before you returned.”
Ildaria nodded and then waited.
“So,” G.G. said thoughtfully, “all he’d miss is sleeping time with me and watching me eat my breakfast. That would work,” he decided, but then paused and suggested, “Maybe you should check with Marguerite first, though. She might not want the little runt running around her house.”
“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Ildaria said and was quite sure that was true. Marguerite loved dogs. Still, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, saying, “But I’ll call her to be sure.”
“Right.” He nodded. “I’ll get Marguerite’s package while you do.” Leaving her to her call, he picked up his plate and headed around the bar to pass through the swinging doors.
As she’d expected, Marguerite was more than happy to have H.D. come stay the night. The woman loved dogs almost as much as she did. Ildaria didn’t tell her that she had a job now, she merely said that the dog sitter G.G. had hired to look after H.D. had let him down and she didn’t want to leave the poor fur ball stuck in his office all night. Ildaria wanted to see Marguerite’s face when she told her that she’d got the job she’d recommended her for, plus the dog sitting position as well. She also planned to stop and pick up some flowers on the way home to give the woman as a thank-you for recommending her to G.G. and she wanted them to be a surprise too.
Ildaria was smiling to herself at the thought as she put her phone away.
“It’s all right with Marguerite then?”
A glance showed G.G. pushing through the swing doors, a medium-sized cooler in hand. Ildaria’s smile widened. “More than all right. She’s eager to give him cuddles. She thinks Julius will be grateful for the break.”
G.G.’s mouth dropped open at this and Ildaria grinned with amusement and explained, “Julius the dog, not Julius her husband.”
“Ah.” He smiled wryly. “I always forget she names her dog after her husband.”
“Do you know why?” she asked with interest. It did seem an odd habit to her, but she hadn’t got around to asking Marguerite about it.
“Yes, I do,” he said with a faint smile, and then carried the cooler around the bar, adding, “And I’ll tell you another time. I need to set up for tonight right now.”
“Oh. Of course.” She hesitated, her gaze sliding from G.G. to the cooler he held and then toward the bar. H.D. was nowhere in sight.
“I’ll grab H.D.’s leash, his favorite toy, and his food and treats,” G.G. announced, setting the cold container of blood on the bar.
“Right,” Ildaria said, relaxing and then she watched him slip back through the swinging doors. It didn’t take long before he had returned with two bags.
Moving to the cooler, he opened the lid and set one of the bags inside, saying, “This is H.D.’s food and favorite treats. There are three separate meals, each in its own container. I make his dog food myself from fresh meat and vegetables, so it has to be kept refrigerated and then microwaved before serving. The containers are microwavable, and I usually put them in for twenty-two seconds, but each microwave is different, so check it before you give it to him to make sure it isn’t too hot, because he’ll gobble it up the minute you set it down without checking it himself,” he warned.
“Okay. Check it first,” she said aloud.
“Right,” G.G. said as he closed the lid of the cooler. “He eats when he wakes up which is usually around 3 or 4 p.m., then again at 11 p.m. or midnight, and finally around 3 or 4 a.m. which is about four hours before bedtime, so three should do until you bring him back.”
Ildaria nodded, silently repeating the times in her head so she’d remember.
“As for his treats . . .” G.G. continued, and waited for her to meet his gaze, before saying firmly, “He gets no more than three in twenty-four hours. Too many treats and he becomes a roly-poly little sausage on legs and can’t jump up in his chair.”
Ildaria’s eyebrows rose at the “his chair” bit, but said solemnly, “No more than three.”
Apparently satisfied that she wouldn’t go wild and turn his dog into a roly-poly little sausage overnight, G.G. relaxed a bit and moved back around the bar, pulling a leash out of his back pocket. As she’d expected it was black leather interspersed with studs and miniature spikes, Ildaria noted before he bent, briefly disappearing from sight. He straightened again a moment later, H.D. in his arms, the leash already attached to his collar.
She watched the big giant of a man snuggle the small dog with a faint smile, and then picked up the cooler.
“I’ll get that,” G.G. protested, carrying H.D. around the bar.
“Nah.” Ildaria shook her head and led the way to the door. “I get to snuggle him up all night. You should do it while you have the chance.”
He didn’t protest further, but followed her to the door, murmuring to the dog about behaving himself at Marguerite’s, and telling him he’d miss him. It was really quite sweet, she decided as she shifted the cooler, balancing it on one hand to open the door and then holding it open with one foot for him to lead the way out.
Four
“Isn’t that the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?” Marguerite asked with a wide smile.
Following her gaze to the huge dog bed in the corner, Ildaria smiled faintly when she saw that H.D. and Julius were curled up on the bed. The little cream-colored fur ball was in front of the much bigger black dog, his back against Julius’s curled feet.
“Maybe I should get Julius a brother or sister to cuddle with,” Marguerite said with a small frown.
Ildaria chuckled at the suggestion, but didn’t comment. She was busy pulling out her phone to snap a picture. She took three quick shots of the pair, checked them all to see which was best, and then stood staring at her phone with a small frown.
“Problem, dear?” Marguerite asked lightly.
“I was going to send this to G.G. so he can see H.D. is all right and won’t worry about him, but I don’t have his number,” she explained and clucked with irritation. She’d have to get his number if she was going to work for him.
“Here.” Marguerite stood and moved quickly around the table to her side to take the phone. She immediately began to tap on it and Ildaria saw that she was entering G.G.’s name and number in her contacts list.
The older woman had been pleased with her flowers, but almost ecstatic to learn Ildaria was now working for G.G. Over ecstatic really, she thought and worried that the lady, whom she liked a great deal, was finding her presence in her home a trial.
“Of course, I do not find your presence a trial,” Marguerite said with exasperation, drawing her attention to the fact that she’d finished her chore and was now holding out the phone.