That’s a hard rule for me. And I’m not giving you my address either. You could be a creeper.”
I snorted. “I’m not a creeper.”
“Yeah, well, that’s exactly what a creeper would say.”
There was a smile in there.
“How old are you?” I asked, suddenly curious.
She scoffed. “Well, that’s unnecessary.”
“What? Me asking your age? It’s the first thing I’d ask a dog-sitter in an interview,” I reasoned, though that wasn’t really what drove my interest. I liked her messages. They’d been kind of funny.
“Well, that would be illegal. You can’t ask someone their age on a job interview.”
I smiled. “What can I ask?”
“Let’s see, you can ask what my background is.”
“Are you in HR? You seem awfully knowledgeable about properly conducted interviews.”
“See, that’s a question you could ask.”
Witty.
“And I thought I already had the job,” she pointed out.
“You do. What? I can’t know a little about who my best friend is sleeping with?”
I heard her snort and I grinned.
“Your best friend is sleeping with a young lady smart enough to know better than to tell a stranger where she lives and how old she is. Are you going to ask me if I’m home alone next?”
“Are you?”
“Wow. You’re definitely a creeper.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I’ll bet,” she said. A pause. “I live alone.”
“Okay. Any other pets?”
“Nope. Such a thorough interview. I have a feeling these questions weren’t asked the last time you selected a dog-sitter,” she said wryly.
I grinned. “I’m trying to learn from my many mistakes.”
“I don’t have any other pets. But I grew up with German shepherds. You have to exercise working dogs. They become destructive if you don’t make them tired. Tucker’s a birding dog. He’s bred for high activity.”
I knew this, of course, but it impressed me that she did. “And so you’re keeping him busy?”
The sound of running water and the clink of dishes came through the phone. Then I heard her talking to Tucker quietly in the background and my smile broadened. She asked him if he was a good boy and if he wanted a puppy snack. He barked.
“Walking him five miles a day,” she said. “My tan looks great.”
“I’d love to see that. Send me a picture.”
It was a joke—kind of. I did want to see what she looked like. I was curious.
“And now you’ve got a lawsuit on your hands. Sexually harassing an employee.” She tsked. “You must be a nightmare for your human resources department.”
“Nah, I’m only a pain in my own ass.”
“Oh yeah? What do you do?”
So she didn’t recognize me. That wasn’t unusual—it was also something I was working very hard to change. My luggage came around the carousel. My guitar case sat a few bags behind it. “I’m a musician.”
“Oh, one of those Hollywood types. In the biz, on tour or away filming a soundtrack for an indie movie overseas.”
She wasn’t far off. Jesus, was I really that cliché?
“Something like that. I am touring with a group. And there is a movie involved. But it’s not an indie film.”
The movie was kind of a big one, actually, but I didn’t like to throw that around. Even though that seemed to be the LA thing to do, name-dropping made me feel like an asshole.
I lifted my luggage and guitar off the moving belt. Now both hands were occupied, and I had to hold my phone to my ear with my shoulder. I needed to get through customs and catch an Uber to my hotel, which meant I should probably hang up. But instead I wandered over to the bench just inside the entrance to baggage claim and sat down, setting my guitar case on the seat next to me.
“Hmm…” she said, sounding bored now. “Everyone’s in the business here.”
She didn’t press me for more about the movie. She seemed uninterested. I was a little surprised. All Monique had cared about when I first met her was who I was and who I knew. Come to think of it, I’m not sure that ever really changed. It was refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t give a shit what I could do for their career. Frankly, I was a little sick of talking about it.
I switched the subject. “And what do you do?”
“Nothing interesting,” she said vaguely.
“How do you know I won’t think it’s interesting? You work from home and you have the time to walk five miles a day and rescue stray dogs. I’d like to know what gives you such a flexible schedule. You know, to gauge whether or not