His Assistant - Alexa Land Page 0,1
to my pocket and said, “A locksmith will be here within the hour. I’ll stay with the SUV, but you can go back to the house if you want.”
He sat down beside me on the curb and stuck his legs out. He was wearing hot pink sneakers, which matched his shorts and T-shirt. “I’d rather wait with you if that’s okay,” he said. “Those chickens are my responsibility, and I need to get them home safely.”
“How’d they get away from you?”
“They teamed up with Buddy, and he opened the gate for them.”
“Who’s Buddy?”
Kel’s frown deepened. “A golden retriever who’s way too smart for his own good. He was trained to be a service dog for people with mobility issues, but he flunked out of the program.”
“Because he couldn’t learn to do the tasks?”
“No, he learned to do all of them. He can open doors, turn lights on and off, fetch things from the fridge, you name it. But he’s super stubborn, so he doesn’t do anything on command. He just does stuff when he wants to.”
I muttered, “That sounds exactly like the type of dog Harper would have.” He always went for pets with a certain Island of Misfit Toys vibe.
“That’s just one of his dogs. There’s also a super mean chihuahua named Pepe, and a retired racing greyhound named Oliver. The greyhound literally just lies on the couch all day. He’s my favorite.”
Now it was my turn to frown. “I remember Pepe. He’s a little shit. The other two are new, though.”
“Harper mentioned you worked for him before. How long ago was that?”
“I quit about a year ago, after working for him nearly eleven months. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“What couldn’t you take?”
“Harper.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t get along. I think he’s really nice, not to mention unbelievably cute,” Kel said, as he absently arranged his long, side-swept bangs. After a moment, he added, “Maybe I shouldn’t have called him cute. I mean, he is. For sure. But like, I don’t think I’m supposed to say that about my boss.”
“How long have you worked for him?”
“Almost a month. It’s my job to take care of all the pets.”
I asked, “Were you hired because you have experience working with animals?” I mentally added, or just because you’re adorable and Harper can never resist a pretty face?
He held my gaze a little too steadily as he lied, “I used to work at the San Diego Zoo.”
“You know, I could verify that with a single phone call, which I assume Harper didn’t do.”
“I mean, I kind of worked there.”
“Want to try again?”
He lowered his gaze to the asphalt, and after a moment he admitted, “My fifth grade class spent a day volunteering there, and I got to feed the penguins. Are you going to tell Harper I lied to get the job?”
“That depends. Are you nice to his animals?”
He blurted, “I am, I swear! I love them all, even that mean chihuahua. I know it looks bad because those chickens got away from me, but I won’t make the same mistake twice. I even locked the gate from the outside to make sure none of the other animals got out before I ran after them. Please don’t fire me.”
“Don’t worry, Kel. This incident with the chickens was obviously just an accident, so I won’t hold it against you.”
‘Thank you.”
I said, “Just promise me, no more lies, okay?”
He drew a big X on his chest. “I promise, cross my heart. This is the best job I’ve ever had, and I really don’t want to screw it up.”
“What did you do before this?”
“I worked as a go-go boy at a club in West Hollywood. That’s actually where I met Harper. We got to talking, and he gave me his number.”
“So, are you two…involved?”
“If you’re asking if we’re sleeping together, the answer is no,” Kel said. “He doesn’t like me that way. Actually, I think the only reason he hired me is because he felt sorry for me. The night he was at the club, this big, drunk guy kept pawing at me, and I broke down in tears.”
“Are you really old enough to work in a nightclub?” I would have guessed he was about nineteen.
He nodded. “I’m twenty-four.” I must have looked skeptical, because he pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his shorts and showed me his driver’s license. It confirmed his age and listed an address in San Diego. “People always think I’m underage. It doesn’t help that I’m only five-foot-eight. They