Page 40 of Love in Mission City

I opened my door and ushered both Byron and the pups into my space. “Right, I can afford it.”

He eyed me.

“My lawyer and I argued. She negotiated the one point I thought was important, and I signed the contract on Thursday. I celebrated with my sisters in Vancouver that night and then with my parents and Tansy last night. I would’ve invited you, but my family…are intense.”

He stopped abruptly just inside my door. “Why would you invite me?” His tone was pure disbelief mixed with confusion.

“Because you’re my friend, and friends invite friends to special dinners. This was a huge celebration.” I held back sharing justhowbig. He was an accountant to a billionaire, so he wasn’t likely to impressed. I’d signed a contract for a season of streaming with the option of two more. Well, if I finished my next book, possibly more than that. Right of first refusal and all that. “Oh, you haven’t locked your door.”

His eyes went wide. Quickly, he headed back next door.

I was pleased to see the pooches didn’t blink an eye at being left alone with me.

He returned moments later, and I gestured him toward my kitchen where his salad sat on a plate.

“Uh, thank you.”

“My pleasure. Why don’t you sit on the recliner? I’ll bet you were in your chair too long and didn’t stretch.” I used a teasing tone.

After a moment, he grabbed his salad, made his way over to the recliner, and sat.

I didn’t miss him flicking on the heat after he reclined. “You want to watch television? I’ve got several streaming services we can enjoy. Have you seen—”

“I don’t watch television. Well, except the news. Important to keep up.”

“Sure.” I checked the website for the national Canadian site several times a day. That was about as much as I could handle. “The news is coming on…”

He sighed. “I think I’ve had enough screen time.”

I grinned. “Then we can talk, generally, about your job. I’m fascinated.”

“No one is fascinated about accountants.”

“Sure, I am. You never know when I might write about one.”

“You write fantasy novels set in near-earth—” He gestured. “—settings. You don’t write about accountants.”

“Ah. You haven’t read all my stuff.” Although I was extremely impressed that he’d done some research about my books. Maybe even a little touched.

He cocked his head. “I assumed—”

I wagged my finger at him. “Never assume. I write all kinds of stories. Short, long, novellas, and even novels. I can’t be writing the fantasy books all the time, so I take breaks and write contemporary books.”

“What kinds?”

“All kinds. Adventure, thriller, police procedural, romance—”

“Romance?” He scoffed at that. “There’s no such thing.”

I cocked my head. “Hundreds of millions of people would disagree. Hell, maybe even a billion. Romance is wonderful.”

He gazed around my condo.

I snickered. “I’ll get a place when I meet the right man. I’m still young. But I have plans.” I tilted my head. “Who broke your heart?”

He blinked. “You’re gay?”

“Yep. Don’t distract me. What happened?” He had a story. Guys like him always had a story. He was attractive, clearly single, and had once—I was convinced—been with someone.