drop away like ashes crumbling in a fire. He was going to pay her for both watching H.D. and doing the books. It was like two full-time jobs in one. Her money troubles just went out the door. She’d be able to pay for the fall semester, get her own apartment, and maybe even buy furniture for it if she was careful. Damn. Things were looking up.
“Thank God,” G.G. said, relaxing in his chair and smiling at her. Shaking his head, he added, “Actually, I suppose I should be thanking Marguerite. She’s the one who suggested you might be able to help me.”
“Marguerite did?” Ildaria asked with surprise.
“Yeah. When she called this morning about the blood, we got to talking and I was telling her about H.D.’s sitter quitting and needing a bookkeeper and she mentioned that you were taking accounting and looking for a job. And then she suggested sending you to pick up the blood instead of my having it delivered so that I could meet and talk to you. I thought that would take care of at least one of my problems, but instead, H.D. likes you and it handles both of my problems.” He smiled widely at the realization that his troubles were over and then said, “I really need to send her flowers or something.”
Ildaria smiled faintly in response, but asked, “So this was a job interview?”
He grinned and nodded, the expression making him look ridiculously adorable. The man was a big teddy bear . . . with tattoos, piercings, and a bright green Mohawk.
“So when can you start?” G.G. asked abruptly, his expression serious again.
“How about now?” she asked lightly, and then paused to frown. “No. I guess I need to take the blood home to Marguerite first. And then I should probably change into something more professional, but I could start after that. Maybe in two hours?” she asked and then explained, “It’ll be rush hour traffic when I head back or I’d say sooner.”
G.G. smiled faintly, but shook his head. “Take the blood to Marguerite and relax tonight, get anything done that you think will need doing and you can start tomorrow,” he suggested, and then pointed out, “It’s nearly sunset, and I wouldn’t have time to show you the books and how they’re done before opening anyway. Tomorrow you can come in at say . . . four? Then we can go over the books so you know what you’re doing.”
Ildaria nodded easily, happy to start whenever he wanted.
“Good. Then I’ll go get that blood for Marguerite so you can be on your way.”
“What about H.D.?” Ildaria asked with concern as he stood up. “What will you do with him tonight?”
G.G. hesitated and then shrugged unhappily. “One night in my office won’t kill him. I’ll just make sure there’s nothing lying around for him to eat.”
“Or I could take him home with me,” Ildaria suggested quietly, and then added, “On the house.”
G.G.’s eyes flew up in surprise, but then he shook his head with regret.
Before he could say no, though, she added, “I don’t mind. Besides, I’d be upset thinking about him being stuck locked up in your office all night long . . . and I would bring him back with me tomorrow. That way he wouldn’t be on his own and get into anything.”
The large man hesitated briefly, but then considered aloud, “It’s usually 7 or 8 a.m. or so before I finish cleanup and go up to my apartment. All I do is take H.D. out for a pee break, and then it’s to bed. I sleep until three—” Pausing, he explained, “That’s why I suggested you return at four. It would give me time for breakfast and a cup of coffee before you returned.”
Ildaria nodded and then waited.
“So,” G.G. said thoughtfully, “all he’d miss is sleeping time with me and watching me eat my breakfast. That would work,” he decided, but then paused and suggested, “Maybe you should check with Marguerite first, though. She might not want the little runt running around her house.”
“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Ildaria said and was quite sure that was true. Marguerite loved dogs. Still, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, saying, “But I’ll call her to be sure.”
“Right.” He nodded. “I’ll get Marguerite’s package while you do.” Leaving her to her call, he picked up his plate and headed around the bar to pass through the swinging doors.
As she’d expected, Marguerite was more than happy to have H.D.