Page 11 of Men or Paws

Still, there was no way I was going to work for Rocco. I just couldn’t. I knew what kind of person he was. Rude and spoiled. I had experienced it firsthand. I wouldn’t work for him, based on that principle alone.

“I appreciate you looking out for me,” I said. “But if I keep saving up, I’ll have enough money to move into a new place in a year, tops. Sooner if I can get a small business loan.”

Josh held up a finger. “Or . . . you can work for Rocco for three weeks and be in your new place by the end of the month.”

I scoffed. “Rocco would have to be paying me an absurd amount of money in order for that to happen.”

“You mean, like fifteen thousand dollars?” Josh grinned. “Is that absurd enough for you?”

I blinked. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Fifteen thousand dollars to watch his dog for three weeks?” I asked.

Josh nodded, looking proud of himself. “Yup. He’ll put you up in his guesthouse in Rancho Santa Fe since he wants the dog to stay on the property.”

I thought about it. “Why would he pay that kind of money just to watch a dog? There have to be strings attached.”

“No strings, only leashes.” Josh grinned.

I crossed my arms. “This is Rocco Romano we’re talking about here. He gets what he wants and he’s known for having a way with the ladies, remember?”

Josh lost his smile and magically turned himself into the Godfather, one of the most popular impressions with his fans. “If Rocco tries anything with my sister, I’ll chop him into pieces and dump him in the ocean as shark bait.”

I laughed and squeezed my brother’s arm. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but you’d be a fool to turn down the job. Trust me, you won’t even see Rocco, except to collect your money at the end of the three weeks.”

I glanced around my tiny apartment, even more anxious to move. The only reason I rented the place was to save money for the new business, which I had been doing for the last few years. I had been taking on small catering jobs, walking dogs, and dog sitting for money, doing my best to avoid going back to the restaurant business. The thought of moving out a year ahead of schedule sent waves of happiness through my body and made me really consider taking the job.

Josh picked up my phone from the counter and held it in my direction. “Call him. Now. Unless you want to go back to those grueling hours of being a chef, having no social life, and withering into a heap of nothingness, all for the glory of something people would poop out the next day.”

I smacked Josh on the arm with the outside of my hand. “That’s gross. And you forgot that dogs would have to poop out my organic treats at some point after they eat them.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but they’re dogs. They’re cute, even when they’re squatting and doing their business. And they behave much better than humans and tend to be more predictable.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Josh leaned toward me and gave me a sympathetic smile. “There is one other option, you know . . .”

“Don’t go there,” I said.

It wasn’t a surprise he’d brought it up again.

“It would give you more than enough money to buy a new car, start your business, plus have cash to spare in the bank.”

“I’m not selling the car!” I said, feeling a little testy.

Josh had tried to convince me more than a few times to sell the 1966 Ford Shelby Mustang my grandpa had left me in his will. Yes, it was a collector’s item, and yes, it was worth a lot of money, but the sentimental value was priceless.

And on top of that, I loved driving that car, even though I only took it out for special occasions or an occasional weekend drive. It was one of the few things in life that brought me joy. Luckily, my grandpa’s will also paid for the insurance, or I never would have been able to afford it. Getting rid of it was out of the question.

“Then you need to call Rocco.” Josh held the phone closer to me. “If you don’t call him, I will.”

“Give me that.” Nabbing the phone from my brother, I went to the history of my phone calls, clicking on Rocco’s number. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This is going to be embarrassing, you know that, right?”

Josh grinned. “Do you have any popcorn before the show starts?”