The Wrong Man (2 page)

I pasted a wide, welcoming grin on my mug and sternly reprimanded myself. This was Hollywood, baby. Everyone was an actor, though the stage might vary from person to person. My stage was this store, and I owed it to my audience—my clients—to give them the Brandon Good they expected. The guy who would entertain and fawn over them as they meandered around the spacious floor perusing the newest fashions in home design. If I played my part well, my client left BGoods with a smile and a huge bag stuffed with expensive pillows and accessories.

“Mrs. H! How are you? Please tell me you came to see the brand-new Gabe Marston prints. They are divine. I’m not exaggerating either. Come with me. How is Mr. Hirschfield? And Sasha?”

“Brandon, you’re a delight! Mr. H is the same. The man works too much, but my poor Sasha has been through the wringer. Shots and antibiotics! The vet said my little pumpkin is doing well, but I worry.”

“I know you do. She’s so lucky you’re her mama. Let me show you something to cheer you up.”

M
RS
. H
IRSCHFIELD
’
S
late appearance delayed closing time, but I didn’t mind. She’d spent two grand on the prints and given me a referral for a showbiz connection who wanted to redo his master bedroom. I wasn’t sure I had time for additional design projects, but I’d happily talk to her friend. You never knew what might come up. Networking in this town was a must. I’d learned early on to cherish “friend of a friend” relationships. They’d proven to be some of my most lucrative connections.

Lizzy cleaned mirrors and straightened accessories while I tended to my customer, but I sent her home when Mrs. Hirschfield left. I wanted to turn on my tunes, get in a zone, and do my thing. I wanted to keep my hands busy and the music too loud for coherent thought. I hated feeling out of sorts, and Lizzy was right. I hadn’t been myself since Trevor left.

It made no sense. Trevor had not been the love of my life. I’d always known we weren’t destined to have a long romance. The man was too self-absorbed and too caught up with how things looked. Perhaps that sounded a bit hypocritical. After all, like every West Hollywood gay man, I had bought into the idea image was everything. But in a lasting relationship, I was pretty sure you needed to look beyond the superficial. You should be able to be yourself, and he should love the real you, warts and all. Just like in the movies.

So why was I sad? I didn’t love Trevor, and he didn’t love me. The sex had been great. I’d miss that for sure. But let’s face it, the conversation had been dull. If we weren’t discussing his next audition or how fantastic his abs looked (they were impressive), he lost interest quickly. It was time to move on. He made it easy to do when he admitted he was “kinda hot” for a fellow out-of-work actor. Some guy he’d met at the bistro where he worked until he was “discovered.” My big mistake was letting him move in, because it took him a full week to get his shit out of my house after he’d come clean. A whole week of looking at his crap and willing myself not to give in to the overwhelming desire to throw his stuff on the lawn. I couldn’t do it to my neighbors, though. It wasn’t their fault my judgment had been impaired by a hunky, well-hung man.

A month had gone by since I’d said adieu to traitorous Trevor. It was April now. Spring had officially come to Southern California, and Los Angeles was experiencing the kind of weather the rest of the nation could rightfully be jealous about. Seventy-five degree sunny days with only a ten-degree drop at night. Perfect. I should be breathing in the fresh air and a sigh of relief, not wallowing in an uncharacteristically maudlin state.

I reminded myself each lover since my very first faux pas at age seventeen had taught me something about myself. About what I needed in my life and what I would never put up with. Those past lovers were simply handsome placeholders until the real deal came
along. However, I wasn’t one to waste any time waiting on a man. I was better off alone for now, and thankfully I liked my own company. I shook my hips to an up-tempo Beyoncé song as I restocked one of the barren shelves. This pity party was officially over.

B
Y
F
RIDAY
afternoon, I was ready for the weekend. There was no such thing as time off in retail, but as the boss, I was generally able to schedule my time as I pleased. I was fortunate to have trustworthy employees to help out when needed… like Fridays at closing. It was the one night I liked to be out the door by six o’clock so I could relax and wind down before I wound myself back up for a night on the town. I looked at my watch mournfully. I wasn’t going anywhere early tonight. Lizzy was out for the day, Josh had an appointment at four, and Lorenzo was leaving as soon as he finished flirting with Mr. Gowan, a seventy-year-old regular who had a thing for hot young Latino men. I smiled cheerfully as I rang up the young mother balancing a drooling toddler on her hip.

“Let me help you take these to your car. Where did you park?” I grabbed the bags and hastened around the counter before she could protest.

“Oh, my gosh. Thank you so much. I’m just out front,” she gushed as she struggled to manage the baby and steer the stroller toward the entry.

She led the way to a white Range Rover parked nearby. I hefted the bags into her trunk while she situated the baby. We chatted about her daughter and the perils of teething. I really had no idea what we were discussing, but I made an effort to nod sympathetically when her worried tone gave me the cue to do so. The ability to talk about anything from baby teeth to the best sushi restaurants in town was an ideal skill set in the interior design biz. I’d honed my craft well over the years, though I doubted anyone really thought I knew shit about teething toddlers.

I waved good-bye and turned toward the large square topiaries flanking either side of the glass entrance to BGoods, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk with one hand on my hip. The sight of Lizzy pulling a large dog behind her on a leash made me smile. I didn’t know much about dogs, but I could tell this one was old. I shielded my eyes from the late afternoon sun and waited as the duo neared the store.

“Lizzy, are you walkin’ that dog or are you draggin’ her?”

“Ha-ha. And it’s him,” she said with a grin as she bent to scratch the top of the dog’s head. “He’s such a good boy. Aren’t you, Mack?” Her voice took on a syrupy quality as she addressed the canine, who amazingly enough seemed to grin at her. Did dogs do that?

“Huh?”

“This handsome old man is Mack. My neighbor’s dog. Remember? I told you I was watching him while he was at wor—”

“Yes. The hunky firefighter. I remember.”

“Exactly. He’ll be here to pick Mack up by six thirty at the latest. I really appreciate this, Brandon. I can’t wait to get to Palm Spr—”

“Whoa! What are you talkin’ about?”

Lizzy lowered her sunglasses and scowled at me. I noticed for the first time she was carrying a small overnight bag on one shoulder. Her long hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and she was wearing form-fitted aqua-colored pants, a cute T-shirt with some funny calligraphy, and a smart pair of Tory Burch flats. She definitely looked like she was going somewhere… not just out to walk a dog.

“I knew you weren’t listening! I asked you the other night if you minded if Jake came to pick up Mack from the store today. Tracy is picking me up here to go to Palm Springs for the weekend. We still have to get Lori and traffic is goi—”

“Hold up!” I put my hand in the air and gave her a scowl of my own. Was she trying to pull a fast one on me? I looked down at the old dog, who was now panting heavily at my feet. “What do you want me to do with a… dog? He’ll get hair everywhere, run around wagging his tail, knocking knickknacks off shelves. BGoods is a fine home-accessory boutique, Liz. And I am not a dog sitter. I don’t know anything about dogs! I’ve never had a dog in my life. What am I supposed to do with Jack?”

“Not Jack. Mack. Like the cosmetic store, but with a K at the end.” Lizzy bit her bottom lip, and much to my horror, it trembled. She took her glasses off and daintily wiped at the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry, Bran. I shouldn’t have asked you when you were distracted. I swear I’m not trying to take advantage of you, but I…. The reason I asked you in the first place is that you’re so good with animals and—”

“Me?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes, you. You’re always so sweet to all the little dogs that come into the store.”

“Dogs don’t come into my store, Liz. They are carried in pretty designer bags. Your friend Mack here is supersized. No offense, big guy.” I looked down at the dog sitting patiently between us as we discussed his fate for the next hour or so.

“I know. Please, Brandon. He’s really the sweetest thing. He’s just an old Lab. Jake doesn’t like leaving him for long stretches, but I promise it’s not because he tears up furniture or eats trash… well, not much trash. Mack’s thirteen. He doesn’t have the energy to get into mischief like he used to. Right, Macky?”

Lizzy scratched behind Mack’s ears playfully. He made a blissful mewling sound as he leaned into her touch. His tail swished from side to side happily. He didn’t look like trouble. He looked… sweet. I sighed heavily and shook my head. God, I was a sucker.

“Okay. Fine.”

“Oh, Brandon, you’re the best!” Lizzy threw her skinny arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. “I owe you one. I’ll text you Jake’s cell number in case of emergency, but of course there won’t be one. This will be super easy-peasy!” A car honked and Liz turned toward the sound. “That’s Tracy. I have to go. Thanks again! Be an angel for Mr. Good, Mack.”

She pushed the leash into my hands and offered me another winning smile before skipping toward the waiting car.

“Wait! Am I supposed to feed him? How will I know who Jake is? Instructions?”

“He doesn’t need any food, but please give him water. And Jake is dreamy. Trust me, you’ll know him the minute he steps in the store. Toodles!”

I starred after the departing car for a long moment before looking down at my new charge. He gave me a barely curious glance and picked up his right paw to itch his ear. In other words, he wasn’t impressed.

“Listen, Mack. I’m fairly easy going, but I have to lay down a couple rules.” He spared me another brief look. “No monkey business in my store. I run a tight ship. Don’t knock anything over. Don’t run. And if you can help it, don’t shed. I understand you can’t control everything, but manners are a must. Are we clear?” I waited a couple beats before tugging my canine companion toward the entrance. “I’m going to take your silence as a yes. C’mon.”

Mr. Gowan pushed open the door to BGoods just before I got there. He was wearing a wide happy grin and carrying three large bags.
Nice job, Lorenzo.
The old man waved a cheery farewell in my direction. I grabbed the door before it closed and bustled Mack inside. Lorenzo greeted me with an enormous smile, which quickly morphed into a puzzled frown.

“Who’s this?” he asked as he presented his right hand to Mack to sniff. I hadn’t thought to do that. It was easy to tell I was a novice dog sitter.

“Mack, who is waiting for a guy named Jake.” I rolled my eyes theatrically. “I’m the sucker who agreed to keep him company until he gets here.” Lorenzo stooped in front of Mack and petted him gently, murmuring sweet nothings to the regal Lab.

“He’s a beauty. I love the color of his coat. His white face isn’t quite as noticeable because of the light yellow fur, you know?”

“I wouldn’t know. We struck a bargain. And all I care is that he sticks to his end until his supposedly hot owner comes to pick him up. Right, Mack?”

The dog’s ears perked up, giving him an almost puppy-like look. Lorenzo noticed and instantly melted, cooing over and over “such a pretty boy.”

“Is that what Mr. Gowan said to you, Lo?”

Lorenzo giggled good-naturedly. “Well, he might have if I’d thrown in a blow job, but my man wouldn’t appreciate me selling my services along with
three thousand dollars’
worth of merchandise. Yes, you heard me!”

He jumped up and spun in a circle to do an impromptu dance. The guy was fit, lean, and moved like a pro. Lorenzo, or Lo as he was known to his friends and coworkers, was five feet seven tops with olive skin, dark eyes, and chiseled features. He was a bona fide Latin cutie. I laughed as I led Mack behind the counter. I couldn’t think of where else to keep him, and it was apparent Lizzy hadn’t been exaggerating about the dog’s low energy. Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

“I’ve got to run. Tony’s waiting for me. You can tell me how much you appreciate my mad sales skills tomorrow. How about a latte? Make it an extra-large and hold the foam. Take care of the store, Mack!”

Lo blew me a kiss as he left.

“Looks like it’s just you and me.” I glanced down warily at my charge. “I should probably get you some water, eh? Even the little pipsqueak pups who come into the store want a drink every once in a while. I’m guessing larger guys need more. And no, I’m not suggesting you need to lose weight. You’re fabulous. At least that’s what Lizzy tells me. Now sit like a good boy. Better yet, lie down. I’ll find a bowl and bring you some refreshment.”

I dropped the leash and backed away slowly. He seemed docile but what did I know? I found the blue porcelain bowl I used for my canine visitors. It was small but Mack wasn’t staying for long, so I thought it would do the trick. When I returned to the register with the water, there was no sign of my new guest. My eyes widened, and my heart skipped a beat. What the fuck? I’d left the room for seconds.

“Mack? C’mere, boy. That’s a good—Mack!”

He turned to give me a bored stare before he went back to sniffing the handblown glass vase on a low table. When he lost interest in the pricey inanimate object, he moved on to the next vignette. I caught on he was getting the scent of his surroundings but I still hovered like a protective parent, ready to throw my body between him and my expensive collection of knickknacks if needed.