Like clockwork, Hal and his partner were on my doorstep at eight. If the doorbell didn’t wake the house, Sirius made sure we were up with his barking. Fifteen minutes later, Poppy and I nursed hangovers with cups of coffee and aspirin, while the guys started their job. It was eight thirty when Ian called.
“Hello,” I croaked.
“How’s the hangover?”
“Bad.”
“How’s the security system?”
“Great.”
“Mmm hmm.” He paused. “You have anything to tell me, Miss Hartland?”
“Nope. It’s all good.”
“They’re installing it now, aren’t they?”
“That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“On whether or not you’re going to blow a gasket, Mister O’Connor.”
“You didn’t let them install it last night, did you?”
“There wasn’t time, and everything is just fine. It’ll be up and running today, so don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
“Did you just tell me not to get my knickers in a twist?” he rumbled.
I sighed and put my head on the table. “Please, Ian, don’t yell at me. I can’t handle it this morning.”
He snickered and softened his tone. “Poor baby. Do I need to get you a girlie coffee to make you feel better?”
“As much as I would adore a girlie coffee, I have to turn you down. In about ten minutes, I’m gonna pull my act together, shower, and head over to a prospective client’s house. I won’t get to your house until this afternoon, but thanks for the offer.”
“How long will the install take?”
“Dunno. Let me check. Hal!” I immediately regretted raising my voice.
“What?” He came into the kitchen.
“Mr. O’Connor wants to know how long all this will take.”
“Probably five or six hours.”
“Five or six hours,” I relayed.
“Put Hal on the phone.”
I handed the phone over to Hal and laid my head back on the table.
“Yes, sir. Yes … of course, sir, by all means. Yes … Ok. Good-bye.” Hal passed the phone back to me and disappeared.
“What was that all about?” I asked Ian.
“Just making sure he knows what’s expected.”
“Yes, sir,” I snapped out.
“Smart arse.”
“Good-bye, Ian. Have a good day at work.”
“You too, luv,” he whispered softly.
I hung up.
Poppy, who up until now sat silently watching the show, leaned in. “You’ve got it bad for that man.”
A whimper slid out. “I know. It gets worse with every encounter. Except for our disagreement over the security system, and being stalked by the paparazzi, I swear, I’m already halfway in love with him before we’ve even had a real date.” Although I planned to remain firm on the security system, it was kind of sweet that he’d offered to pay.
She patted my hand and gave a sympathetic nod.
I dragged myself down the hall to go stew in the shower.
An hour later, I backed out of the garage and a silver Prius pulled in, blocking my driveway.
What now?
A mousy, brown-haired girl hopped out and waddled up to my car, carrying a coffee cup. She adjusted an unattractive brown skirt and her square, black glasses and knocked on the window. She didn’t seem to be the stalking paparazzi type, so I slid down the glass.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Sophie?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I was worried I might not make it here before you left.”
I crunched my eyebrows.
“Mr. O’Connor said you needed a pumpkin spice latte.” She thrust the Starbucks coffee through my open window.
I grasped the cup before the creamy liquid could splash all over my dress.
“I’m sorry. Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m Brittany.” She let out an embarrassed snorting sound, but Brittany recovered quickly. “I’m Mr. O’Connor’s new personal assistant.”
Brittany looked like a recent college graduate who still needed to lose the freshman fifteen, or in her case the freshman forty.
“When did he hire a personal assistant?”
“Two days ago. Today’s my first day,” she said with pride.
“That’s great, Brittany. Uh, thanks for the coffee. I’ll make sure Ian never makes you do that again.”
“It’s no problem.” She pushed her glasses up again. “You’re much prettier than the magazine photo.”
I fought hard not to roll my eyes. “Thank you. I’m sure Ian’s told you the tabloid was a total lie.”
Brittany winked and whispered, “Your secret’s safe with me.”
I whispered back, “There’s no secret.”
“Okay.” She nodded and gave a thumbs-up. I could tell she still didn’t believe me.
Whatever. “Brittany, I’m late for a meeting. Can you please move your car?”
Brittany scurried down to her car and the Prius silently backed out of my driveway and headed off.
Slipping my Bluetooth on, I told it to dial Ian as I motored my way toward San Marino. It went to voice mail.
• • •
“Thanks for the coffee. But really, it’s demeaning to have Brittany fetch coffee for your interior designer. You’ll be happy to know Hal’s doing a bang-up job installing the system. All’s well. Did you talk to your manager? There were no vultures at my house today.” Sophie’s message was delivered in a dry tone.
Ian could hear some of the frustration in her voice, probably left over from his overbearingness about the security system. But, really, what did she expect him to do? Leave her vulnerable and open to any paparazzi nut in the area? It really steamed him when he thought about some guy following her home, and if one could find her, so could more. He shuddered at the thought of Sophie pushing her way through a press phalanx outside her doors. At least he’d feel more comfortable knowing a state-of-the-art security system protected her.
After all, when he hired Sophie, he never figured she’d be put under the spotlight like that. It really wasn’t nice that they said she was preggers, and he felt guilty that his celebrity status put her in an awkward situation.
He realized when they officially started dating, she might fall prey to the press, but he never expected it to happen beforehand. And really, what single woman in this area didn’t have her own security system anyway? Buggers. She should be thanking me for helping out, rather than arguing over the bill. Still …
Ian called and left a return message.
“You’re welcome for the girlie coffee. Consider it an apology for being pushy about the security system. Besides, Brittany didn’t have anything else to do, so don’t worry. I spoke to Tom. It’s all taken care of. He told them to sod off.”
Sophie. What was he going to do with her? She was worming her way into his daily thoughts, and not just sexually. Yesterday afternoon as he reviewed his lines during a break, he’d wished she could have been there to run them with him. And, on his way to work today he’d seen a Hulk-sized man out walking an unhappy cat on a leash. He’d been sorry Sophie hadn’t been there to witness it so they could laugh about it together. She had such a wonderful sense of the ridiculous. That’s part of what he enjoyed about being with her—when he cracked a joke she was sure to laugh. Not look at him strangely and say, “Huh?” like some of the other ladies he’d been with. She was smart, no doubt about it, and Ian admired her for it. Intelligent, funny, sexy. Sophie was turning out to be the whole package. Her independence, though, came with a stubborn streak the size of a football pitch.
Through all of this cat-and-mousing they’d done over their deal, he didn’t really expect she’d get under his skin like this. It was brought home to him how important she’d become when that photographer stalked her to her house and upset her. It made him start to think about a relationship beyond his initial plans to get her in the sack.