His Assistant - Alexa Land Page 0,7
Hudson when we’d be back, and I couldn’t help but notice the way he snuck a glance at Kel before leaving the room.
I turned to Harper and said, “Okay, so let’s go already.” I failed to hold back an eye roll as he gave the chicken a final cuddle, then spouted off in baby talk as he handed her over to Kel, who promised to check in with frequent updates.
Once we were out the door with his luggage, I asked, “What’s with you and that skinny little chicken?”
“She needs me, and I love her.” He shot me a look and asked, “What’s with you and my brother?” Did I detect a note of jealousy?
“I’ve always liked Hud. You know that.”
“I didn’t recall you two being quite so touchy-feely.”
I shrugged and told him, “It was just a hug.”
“A lingering one.” Yup, definitely some jealousy there. Was it because he couldn’t stand anyone getting more attention than he did, including his own brother?
We reached my SUV with its open doors. When the smell of lavender hit us, he took a step back and asked, “What the hell happened in there?”
“Kel spilled some air freshener on the carpet. It might not be so bad if we drive with the windows rolled down.”
“Nope. We’ll take one of my cars. No fucking way am I flying to New York smelling like a little old lady’s underwear drawer.”
“What kind of reference is that?”
“You know. They always have those weird little sachets of dried flowers in their dressers.”
I asked, “And you know this because you’ve spent time rummaging around in old ladies’ underwear drawers?”
“Don’t make it sound all pervy. I used to look in my gran’s dresser when I was a kid, because that was where she hid her stash of those rock-hard butterscotch candies.” I was still staring at him, and after a beat he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed to the garage.
I retrieved my messenger bag from the back of the Bronco, and once I closed all the doors and locked up, I hurried after him. He was sitting in his convertible, and I said, “You don’t want to leave the Tesla at LAX.”
He thought about that, then said, “Yeah, I guess not,” and started to switch out to a vintage Jaguar.
“That’s much worse.”
He pointed at a cream-colored Cadillac Escalade and asked, “How about that one?”
I glanced at my phone and said, “I wish I had time to call a car service. All of these are just begging to be stolen.”
Harper clicked his tongue and threw the duffle in the back of the SUV. “This thing has a killer anti-theft system. If someone’s smart enough to thwart it, they’re welcome to the damn thing.”
I put my bag in the backseat, then walked around to the driver’s side and said, “Give me the keys.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m driving.”
He shook his head. “No way. You drive slower than a funeral procession.”
“And you drive like you’re trying to qualify for the Indianapolis 500.”
Harper climbed into the driver’s seat and said, “Good. Then we won’t miss our flight.”
Since I couldn’t physically drag him out from behind the wheel, I sighed and got in the passenger seat, buckled my seatbelt, and double-checked to make sure it was latched. “Don’t forget to swing by my place so I can pack a bag,” I said, as he fired up the engine.
“Are you still in that same boring-ass apartment?”
I asked, “What’s boring about it?”
“Uh, everything? Have you put any pictures on the walls yet?”
“No, because it’s only temporary.”
“You’ve lived there for seven or eight years, Phee. What’s temporary about it?”
“I don’t know. I just never intended to stay that long.”
“In that building, or in L.A.?”
“Both.”
We reached my apartment alarmingly fast, since he really did drive like a maniac. After he parked out front, we both started to get out of the Cadillac, and I asked, “Why are you coming with me?”
“What am I supposed to do, wait in the car like a cocker spaniel? Actually, you’re not even supposed to leave dogs in cars because it’s inhumane.”
I frowned at him and said, “I’m pretty sure you know how to work the air conditioning to keep yourself from smothering.”
“Come on, just let me go with you. It’ll be boring to wait out here.”
When I muttered, “Fine,” he followed me inside. Okay, so he was right about it being on the plain side. In fact, the compact one-bedroom apartment was about as impersonal as a hotel room. But I spent very little time here,