Page 9 of Kiss Her Goodbye

“I’m calling about—”

“Yes!Can you start today?Excellent, you’re hired!”

This level of enthusiasm is a little off-putting.“Um, just so we’re clear, I don’t have much pet-sitting experience unless a feral cat or flower-loving crab count.”

“Do you have a pulse?”

“I’m pretty sure—”

“Great, I’m sending the driver.”

“There’s a driver?”

“And a swimming pool.An entire estate, actually.You’ll love it.Definitely, absolutely, yes, you willloveit!”

The man/kid sounds so desperate, I feel compelled to at least humor him.

“My location for the driver—”

“No worries, I already have it.”

“How?”Belatedly I stare at my cell phone.“You can do that?”

“Driver will be there in twenty!”the kid says, and ends the call before I can utter another word.

Apparently, I now have an employment and housing opportunity all rolled into one.I’m already willing to bet I’m not tendingsomething as simple as a cute puppy or fluffy kitty.But really, given some of my past rooming situations, how bad can this be?

“WHAT THE HELLis that?”

“Petunia.Isn’t she beautiful?”

My mouth opens, my lips move.No words come out.Though I now totally understand Boy Wonder’s hiring enthusiasm, or maybe it’s more like panic.

Driver came.Built like a bruiser and dressed in a Blues Brothers black suit to go with the sleek black sedan and luxurious black interior.I got my own personal climate zone, while the sedan purred its way out of the concrete-and-stucco city into the cactus- and brush-covered foothills.We wound our way up to a massive wrought-iron gate that seamlessly gave way to a long, curved driveway leading to a fountain and what appeared to be a luxury hotel but I quickly realized was a single-family home/estate.

Owned by a kid who didn’t look a day older than fifteen, but apparently is actually twenty-seven.

The driver, who clearly wasn’t paid to speak, led me through a two-story marble foyer to a kitchen that was roughly the size of a gymnasium and decorated in a distinctly Mediterranean style.It also sounded like a summer meadow.Crickets, I realized, chirping away from various nooks and crannies.

Which may or may not have something to do with the room’s main occupant.The driver, I notice, remained rooted in the doorway.

“Have you ever had an iguana?”the kid, scruffy beard, ripped jeans, and worn gray T-shirt declaringDon’t have a cow, man, asks me hopefully.

“Uh… no.”

“They’re amazing pets!Some consider them to be the bunnies of the lizard world.I wouldn’t recommend a male.They can be pretty territorial and aggressive, which you know, given their ripping claws and razor-sharp teeth, can lead to problems.But Petunia here has been hand-reared by humans since birth.She’s a giant love.”

Petunia, all four to five green feet of her, is currently slumbering in a bright sunbeam pouring through the sliders.At the sound of her name, she cracks open one golden eye while the spikes running down her back briefly flare, then settle.Like she’s pleased by the attention.Or preparing to attack.

“Now, for care and feeding,” the man child continues.

“I’m sorry, your name again?”

“Uh, I’m Bart.”He gestures to his T-shirt as if that should’ve been a clue.I got the reference, didn’t realize it was a statement.

“And you are?”

He blinks dark brown eyes behind wire-framed glasses.“The homeowner.”His voice has grown sharper.