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she’d say she didn’t have to actually meet the dog first?

      Should she agree to that?

      Did she want the job that badly?

      Audrey feared she did.

      Then he saved her by saying, “But my business experience tells me to do everything I can to sell you on the job before you meet the dog. Shall I show you the living quarters?”

      “Please,” Audrey said.

      He lifted his arm, gesturing for her to head back the way they had come. “And on the way, I’ll tell you my third problem. My housekeeper, Ms. Bee. I adore her.”

      “Really?”

      He liked someone.

      What a surprise.

      “Yes,” he said, one end of his mouth actually curling up just a bit, as if he’d actually thought of smiling. “People may tell you that I’m…difficult. Demanding. Unreasonable. That there isn’t a woman alive who could live happily with me. It simply isn’t true. Ms. Bee and I get along beautifully.”

       Chapter Two

      So people talked about Simon Collier, too, and he obviously didn’t like it. Audrey thought about telling him she understood and wouldn’t listen to the gossip.

      Except in all of the ten minutes she’d spent with him, she was fairly certain no woman would have an easy time living with him. She’d figured out all on her own that he was certainly demanding, precise to the point of perfectionism, and that from his youngest days, probably wouldn’t have gotten the little check mark in the box titled Plays Well with Others.

      Women included.

      Of course not. He’d have all the power, and they’d have none.

      Audrey had been in a relationship like that, and look how badly it had tuned out.

      But this was about him and his Ms. Bee.

      “I’m very happy for the two of you,” Audrey said.

      He gave her a wry smile. “We’ve been together for ten years. Our relationship has lasted much longer than my marriage, and we understand each other perfectly. She’s precise, careful, orderly. Runs my house like a machine. Anything inside those walls is her domain. You are not to interfere in the least or question her or bother her, because I can’t imagine living without her. I don’t want to.”

      “Okay,” Audrey said.

      But what did she have to do with his love for his housekeeper?

      “Unfortunately Ms. Bee—that’s Peyton’s name for her—hates the dog, if possible even more than I do,” he said.

      “Oh.” Audrey got it.

      “She threatened to leave me if I didn’t get rid of the dog. I confess, I considered telling Peyton it ran away and that I couldn’t find it or that it got hit by a car. But then she’d cry, and I hate it when my daughter cries. But I refuse to live without Ms. Bee, either.”

      “I understand.”

      “I promised her I would find someone to fix the dog, that she would never have to have anything to do with it again. It’s the only way I could get her to stay. Which is where you come in. You’re to see that the dog never bothers Ms. Bee, which is why I need someone to live on the premises.”

      They reached the side of the garage, and he led her up a set of stairs on the side of the building that led to the second floor and a door; he unlocked it and stepped back, letting her go inside first.

      It was an open, L-shaped space, tastefully, if sparsely, furnished, a living room, small dining area and kitchen, obviously the recent recipient of Ms. Bee’s attentions, because it was absolutely spotless. The hardwood floors gleamed, as did the countertops and the appliances.

      The walls were a light, cheery butter-cream, and there were tons of windows that looked out over the backyard.

      Audrey stuck her head in the door opposite the kitchen and found a bedroom and nicely appointed bathroom.

      “The previous owners had a son in college who lived here, I believe, when he no longer wanted to live at home, precisely,” Simon said. “I hope it’s acceptable?”

      “It’s perfect,” Audrey said.

      Much more than she’d expected to be able to afford on her own, given her lack of experience at anything and lack of formal job training.

      “So, you can fix the lawn, fix the dog and keep it from bothering Ms. Bee?”

      She took a leap of faith.

      Either that or told a full-blown lie born of the desperation to be near her daughter.

      “I’m sure I can,” she said.

      “Excellent.” He named a salary she thought was more than fair, given the fact that she’d be living here for free. “When can you start?”

      “When would you like?” she asked.

      “I suppose this instant is out of the question, given the fact that you need time to move your things in. Dare I hope, tomorrow?”

      “You don’t want any references or a résumé—?”

      He shook his head. “Marion vouched for you. That’s all I need.”

      Audrey nodded. “Did she tell you…I mean, you should know—”

      “You’re one of her strays, aren’t you? Had some problems? Trying to get your life back together? And she’s taken you in for a while?”

      “Yes.” He did know Marion well.

      “Have you ever been arrested?” he asked.

      “No, I haven’t,” she said.

      “And Marion wouldn’t let you stay at her house unless you were clean and sober now, so…Good enough. I don’t need the details. I just need someone to fix my three problems. You’re going to do that for me?”

      “Yes, I am,” Audrey agreed.

      “Excellent.” He handed her the keys to the apartment, turned and started walking away, still talking to her.

      Audrey hurried to follow.

      “I’ll leave you to introduce yourself to Ms. Bee. She’s in the kitchen, expecting you. She’ll give you all the details you need,” he said, waiting for her to lock the door behind her.

      “Thank you. I really appreciate it,” Audrey said.

      “No, thank you. You’re going to make my life much easier.”

      Audrey nodded.

      “The dog should be returning any moment. We hired a dog walker, hoping we could survive the week that way. Yes, here they come.”

      Audrey followed him down the stairs and waited as a young woman in shorts and a T-shirt came up the walk, half-dragged by what looked like a long-haired, mostly black-and-white, wiry but overgrown puppy, maybe six months old.

      Although having just returned from its morning walk, the dog looked as if it had just gotten out of bed and was ready to run a marathon, looked hopeful that the opportunity might be offered. Its mouth stretched wide, it appeared to be smiling, happy and eager to take on the entire world, and as it got closer, Audrey could see its beautiful coat was shot through with silver.

      He was striking looking.

      The young woman said, “Hello, Mr. Collier,” and tried to turn over the leash to him, but he waved it off, motioning for her to give it to Audrey.

      The dog’s tail whipped back and forth madly. It made a happy, yipping sound, then eased up on its back legs until it was standing practically straight up and rested

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