the dog...?’
‘Montgomery.’
‘Did that?’
‘He did a whole lot more than that. You should see the state of my navy suit and my pantyhose.’
She lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip. He watched, fascinated, as she closed her eyes in what he guessed was bliss. He reached for his own mug and took a sip too. It was good. He let out a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding. The tightness in his shoulders eased a fraction more.
‘It’s hardly Monty’s fault, though. Audra’s never trained him, and at fourteen months he’s not much more than a puppy still.’
He stared at those pawprints. ‘What kind of puppy?’
‘A Great Dane.’ She shook her head in disgust. ‘No pretty little Chihuahua or toy poodle for Audra. Oh, no. She thought that a cliché. She wanted to be the model with the Great Dane. She thought the photo opportunities would be fabulous.’
‘But?’
She suddenly grinned. It changed her entire bearing. Backbone: tick. Sense of humour: tick. Whoever won the position would need both of those in spades.
‘Oh, the photo opportunities were there, but unfortunately they weren’t to Audra’s advantage.’
A chuckle broke free from his throat. The images Neen’s quick sketch evoked were alive in his mind. ‘Why did you agree to take him?’
‘Ah, well, that would be because she snuck him into my apartment while I was in the shower, left a note explaining it all and then hightailed it for the airport.’
The act of someone who knew Neen couldn’t be taken advantage of. ‘What are you going to do with Monty?’
He shifted on his chair. Would she call the pound? He could hardly blame her. But...
‘I guess I’ll have to find a home for him.’ She sent him a smile of such extraordinary sweetness it momentarily stole his breath. ‘Mr D’Angelo,’ she purred. ‘You look exactly like a man in need of a dog.’
He stared. He floundered. Finally common sense reasserted itself. ‘I’m not home often enough. It wouldn’t be fair to the dog.’ Inside him, a grin built. The minx!
All of her sweetness vanished. ‘If only everyone who decided to get a dog had half as much foresight,’ she muttered, and the grin inside him grew. ‘There should be some kind of dog-ownership test that people have to pass before they’re allowed to get a dog.’
‘The same could be said for having kids.’
She stared at him for a moment. ‘Your troubled youth, huh?’
‘Disadvantaged,’ he corrected.
‘Semantics,’ she shot back.
‘I’m not saying they don’t have issues. But all they need is a chance.’ Which was where he came in. ‘The purpose of the café is to train underprivileged youths in basic waiting and kitchen-hand skills, with a view to finding them permanent employment in the hospitality industry.’
She drained her mug, set it on the desk and then leaned towards him, her eyes suddenly earnest. ‘Mr D’Angelo, I wish you every luck in your endeavour. I also thank you for the brief respite and the coffee.’
‘Neen, you’re not out of the running.’
She’d started to rise, but at his words she fell back into her chair. She gaped at him. ‘I’m not?’
‘No.’
Her eyes suddenly narrowed. ‘Why not?’
He laughed. It was sudden and sharp and took him completely by surprise. But...a healthy dose of suspicion wouldn’t go astray in the job either, and Neen was ticking all his boxes. ‘Not all the applicants have been a total waste of time,’ he assured her. ‘There’s a couple who have potential.’
‘But?’
‘I’m questioning their commitment.’
She sat back and folded her arms. ‘Why aren’t you questioning mine?’
He didn’t even need to think about it. ‘You’re honest, and I need that in an employee. You also have grit and a sense of humour, and I suspect both of those traits will be necessary in this particular job.’
She unfolded her arms. ‘So you’re not going to sugarcoat the position and tell me it’s the job of a lifetime?’
‘It’ll be a challenge, but a rewarding one.’
‘Hmm.’ She didn’t look convinced on that last point.
‘And you’re a dog-lover.’ That made a difference. Dog-lovers generally got on well with kids, and—
‘No, I’m not.’
He blinked.
‘I loathe dogs. I can’t stand them. They’re noisy, smelly, stupid creatures. I’d much rather have a cat.’
It was his turn to gape. ‘But you’re still trying to find Monty a home. You haven’t given him up to the pound.’
‘It’s not the dumb dog’s fault his owner has abandoned him.’
He leaned towards her. ‘That means, then, Neen Cuthbert, that you’re a person of integrity. And that definitely ticks my boxes.’ The day suddenly seemed much much brighter.
‘What about my lack of experience?’
Her lack of experience was an issue, but... He pulled her résumé towards him. ‘You’ve been working in the hospitality industry in one shape or another since you finished high school eight years ago.’
She nodded. ‘I’ve been a waitress, a short-order cook, and I’ve worked for two big-name catering firms.’
None of her positions, however, had carried the title of restaurant manager. ‘I see you recently completed a small business course?’
‘My long-term goal is to open my own café.’
‘That’s ambitious.’
‘I think one should dream big, don’t you?’
He did.
‘What do you think you can bring to the advertised role, Neen?’
Her eyes danced again. ‘Besides honesty, grit, a sense of humour and integrity, you mean?’
She was right. He opened his mouth. With a superhuman effort he snapped it shut again. He still had one more applicant to interview. And he wasn’t given to impulsive gestures or decisions.
She sobered. ‘I’ll work hard, Mr D’Angelo. That’s what I have to offer you.’
The
