Page 47 of Men or Paws

“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,” Marcello said. “And you’ve got scruples, unlike some other people I know.”

“Well, that is why Beth fits squarely in the middle of my relationship category ofstay the hell away from her.”

Marcello scratched his chin, thinking. “So, wait, I can ask her out then?”

I stared at him, not sure if he was joking.

He pointed to my face and laughed. “Gotcha! Man, do I have some superior acting skills or what?”

I laughed. “Not bad for an amateur.”

“Well, you’ve got a thing for Beth, I’ll tell you that much.”

“You need to work on your observation skills,” I said. “Anyway, I’m going to take a quick shower before we get to work. When I come back, I don’t want to hear any more talk about that person over there.” I pointed to the guesthouse.

“You’re kind of a pushy boss, you know that?” Marcello said.

I nodded. “Don’t forget cruel. Do the inhumane working conditions bring you to tears?”

Marcello grinned and jingled the keys to the BMW I bought him for his birthday. “I’m crying a river over here, but I’ll get through it as best as I can.”

I grinned. “I take it you’re enjoying the car?”

“It’s a brand new, loaded, convertible BMW—what do you think?” He slapped me on the back. “I know I’ve already said it a few times, but thanks. I would hug you again if you weren’t half-naked.”

I laughed, then took a couple of steps toward the bedroom before turning back around. “And you don’t need to keep thanking me. You work your ass off and I appreciate it.”

Marcello smiled proudly and then mouthedthank youto me before taking another sip of his protein drink.

I loved that man like a brother.

Marcello and I grew up in the foster care system. As silly as it sounded, we promised each other we would be friends for life. Then the unthinkable happened. We lost contact with each other after Marcello had moved to a new foster home out of the area.

Just like that, my best friend had vanished from my life.

It devastated me so much that I had retreated into my own little make-believe world in my closet, a world where my stuffed animals were my only friends.

They would never hurt me. They would never leave me.

Oddly enough, those thousands of pretend conversations and skits with my fluffy toys would help pave the way toward a career in acting and eventually lead me right back to my long-lost best friend.

After my acting career took off, Marcello had tracked down Oliver to pass along his contact info when he saw me in a preview of the firstCaptain Claptonmovie.

Hearing his voice again was the happiest day of my life.

My best friend was back.

Marcello had been working in sales at a car dealership in Palm Springs. It only took me fifteen minutes on the phone to convince him to quit his job and move to LA to come work for me as my personal assistant. Thinking of our reunion still gets me misty-eyed.

After my shower, I headed to the guesthouse to hand off Houdini and his new harness to Beth. I knocked on the door, then silently cursed myself for exhaling into my palm and smelling it, to see if my breath was decent.

What am I doing?

Call me an idiot and I would agree with you.

A few seconds later, Beth opened the guesthouse door wearing jeans similar to the day before, but just a little more faded. Instead of a T-shirt, she wore a purple v-neck blouse that hugged her upper body in all the right places (not that I noticed).

“Hello, gorgeous,” Beth said, smiling.