Flipping Love You by Erin Nicholas

 

 

Prologue

Jillian Morris would never admit it, but the fact that her mother believed she needed help dressing herself, even at age thirty-four, came in handy sometimes.

Because she did need help dressing herself.

Sometimes.

Certainly not on a regular basis. Her basic v-neck t-shirts in various solid colors and her jeans or khakis worked perfectly three hundred and sixty-two days a year. And it was awesome to be able to reach into her closet and, literally, pull on the first thing her hand touched.

But every once in a while, the clothes her mother sent her were actually appropriate. Never for Jill to wear to work, of course. But for…other things.

Like funerals.

And meetings with lawyers for reading the will a couple days after a funeral.

She’d worn this same dress to the funeral, but she’d grabbed it again this morning when she’d remembered the meeting and realized she’d need to change after work and had run back up the stairs to her apartment.

She hoped a basic black dress was appropriate for a meeting with a high-powered attorney at an enormous, intimidating mansion on the outskirts of town regarding the last will and testament of a man she’d loved and who she’d had no idea was a multi-millionaire.

Was there a handbook or blog or something that she could have referenced for this meeting? Maybe she should have Googled.

She studied the toe of her shoe.

Okay, it was a boot. One of her work boots. Because, while she’d been so proud of herself for remembering to grab the dress, of course she hadn’t thought about shoes.

Her mother would be appalled.

The boot probably had penguin poop on it.

No, the boot definitely had penguin poop on it.

Which was why she had also arrived to this big-time fancy meeting in her truck. She drove her truck to and from work because then she didn’t have to worry about things like penguin poop on the floor mats or if she’d remembered her work bag. She just kept it in her truck at all times. And wore the same thing to and from work every day.

Having a big meeting that required a dress and nice shoes right after work was really not a good idea for Jill.

Had she gotten penguin poop on the carpet in A.J.’s stuffed-with-books-covered-in-maps-and-filled-with-probably-expensive-stuff office?

Very likely.

But she smiled slightly. A.J. would not care about penguin poop on his carpet.

Though she couldn’t help but wonder how much the carpet in here cost.

A.J. had been a millionaire. More precisely, Allan J. Reynolds III had been a millionaire.

What?

She’d known the man for almost four years. He’d come to the zoo every Thursday afternoon to watch her feed the penguins. After a couple of weeks, they’d started chatting politely. Then they’d started actually talking. And laughing. And sharing their stories and passions. And caring.

The older man had been fascinating. He’d had a dry sense of humor and had led an incredible life, traveling the globe, studying and photographing wildlife. He’d been especially fond of penguins. They’d shared that passion. Which was how they’d become friends.

When he hadn’t showed up last Thursday, she’d been so worried.

Turned out, for good reason.

He’d passed away Wednesday night.

From cancer that she hadn’t even known he had.

Jill felt her throat tighten and her eyes sting. She was going to miss him so much. It still didn’t feel real that he was gone.

“Jillian?”

She lifted her head and focused on the man sitting behind the enormous, polished cherry-wood desk. “Yes?”

“I asked if you’re ready?”

Oh, he’d been speaking to her. She glanced at the other two people in the room.

Christine Jones had been A.J.’s long-time personal assistant, housekeeper, and friend. She was inheriting this gigantic house and all of the furnishings and artwork. Apparently, A.J. felt that the woman who had vacuumed, dusted, polished, and shined the place should get to keep it in the end.

Christine was a little overwhelmed by the whole thing.

But Mathias Alcazar, the twenty-one-year-old man sitting between Jill and Christine, was more than overwhelmed.

Mathias had been picking A.J. up and driving him to church then taking him out for breakfast every week for two years.

A.J. had left Mathias his cars. Yes, plural. Six of them. There was a silver Bentley, a maroon Rolls Royce, a black 1936 Mercedes Benz Roadster, a beat-up blue pickup, the basic tan Buick they’d driven to church, and, Mathias’s favorite, a fire-engine red Ferrari.

A.J.’s taste in cars had been eclectic. As had his taste in artwork, hobbies, and, clearly, personal relationships.

Jill was still smiling over how amazed and touched both Christine and Mathias had been, not only with what A.J. had left them in his will, but the kind words about what their friendships had meant to him that William, his attorney, had read.

A.J.’s children—two sons—were grown and wildly successful themselves. One lived in New York and one in London. They had inherited shares of A.J.’s company—Jill wasn’t clear on what exactly A.J. had done to become a millionaire—and money, but they didn’t want or need his house, furniture, artwork, or cars.

Now it was her turn to find out what A.J. had left to her.

She swallowed and sat up straighter, tucking her boots under the chair. “Yes, I’m ready.”

She wasn’t ready at all.

She was here with two people who knew A.J. really well. They’d known he lived in a gigantic house and had millions of dollars to his name. They’d done things for him.

All A.J. and Jillian had done was chat about animals and travel and her work. Some days they talked about recent research in wildlife veterinary care. Sometimes they talked about conservation efforts around the world. They talked about everything from deforestation of the rainforests to the news story about a mother tiger that had adopted a stray litter of puppies as her own.

They’d shared their love of animals, but she hadn’t taken him anywhere, or helped him in any particular way. She’d been touched to find out that he’d remembered her in his will at all. If he was going to leave her some of his wildlife photography or even one of his journals from his travels to the Galápagos Islands where he first fell in love with the penguins, she would be ecstatic and treasure it forever.

“To my dearest Jillian.”

Jill’s throat constricted with even those first four words.

“Everything I needed to know about you, I learned on the very first day I saw you. I was watching you caring for the penguins in the exhibit. You didn’t know I was there at first, and I overheard you talking to them. You were loving and sweet and patient. You were not just feeding them, but truly interacting, and taking the time to give each of them individual attention and care. It was clear they loved and trusted you implicitly. After that, we became fast friends and you always treated me similarly.”

Jill had to blink rapidly. A.J. had been surprisingly verbally affectionate toward her. He praised her care of the penguins and had told her many times what her friendship meant to him. But hearing it like this in a letter, that he’d clearly taken time to write, knowing it would be his final chance to say it, made her heart ache. She dashed the tear off her cheek that had slipped from her lower lashes.

“There is no one else I could possibly entrust my beloved animals to. I know that you will give them the love and attention and care they need and will make the choices for them no one else can.”

Jill lifted her head and met William’s eyes.

Animals?

Oh…shit.

Clearly, A.J. had had pets. That didn’t surprise her.

But he thought she would be good at taking care of them?

Of course he had. She was a veterinarian. Sure, she specialized in wildlife, but yeah, they’d covered cats and dogs in vet school. She remembered the basics. Plus, tons of non-veterinarians had cats and dogs. Obviously. Most cat and dog owners weren’t vets.

But Jill was…not good at taking care of other things. Laundry. Home repairs. Feeding herself. Other things with a pulse.

Unless the other thing was black and white and had flippers.

Nope, that wasn’t even true. She would have no idea what to do with an orca whale.

She was good at taking care of penguins.

And that was pretty much it.

Penguins were all she cared about. Caring for penguins, helping save them from extinction, was her life’s work and well, she didn’t want to do anything else.

She’d fallen in love with penguins at age eight. When she was thirteen she’d found out that she could work with them—like actually touch them and feed them and pet them every day—if she became a wildlife vet and that had been that. It was all she’d ever cared about.

Okay, so A.J. hadn’t known her as well as he might have thought.

William was watching her, seemingly finished reading aloud.

Jillian sighed. “How big is it?”

William lifted a brow. “How big is what?”

“The dog.”

She supposed it could be a cat. Or, God forbid, multiple cats, but A.J. seemed more like a dog person.

Her heart thumped. That wasn’t true. A.J. was more of a cat and dog person. With maybe a ferret and something odd like a snake—she shuddered—and, now that she’d seen his house, maybe a pony. And the type to have multiples of each.

Crap. He was giving her living beings.

He couldn’t have given her…a vacation home? He’d often said that she worked too much. That would have fit. She could have used a vacation house. Or a car. He had six. Did Mathias need all of them? She couldn’t have had one? She’d even take the pick-up.

But no, A.J.—the sweet man who’d thought she was amazing and she’d let talk her into thinking so too…at least on Thursdays—wanted her to take care of a living creature. Probably more than one.

That was just great.

She was going to freaking forget to feed and walk it, and probably kill—though accidentally of course—one of her sweetest friends’ beloved pets.

Awesome.

William shook his head. “There’s no dog.”

Jillian stared at him. Then felt her breath whoosh out. She covered her chest with her hand. “Oh, good. Sorry. I just…”

You can’t tell them that you, a freaking veterinarian, don’t want to be responsible for keeping a bunch of non-penguin animals alive.

“…have a very small apartment. And I don’t think my lease allows pets. And I work a lot, so I’m gone a lot.”

There were probably other good reasons she shouldn’t have pets. Other than the 98% chance that she’d forget about the poor things entirely.

William smiled. “We won’t have to worry about keeping them at your apartment. You’ll have plenty of funds to be sure they are housed appropriately.”

So it was a “them”. As in more than one. But she was going to have funds to house them. What did that mean?

Dammit. They were horses or something.

She liked animals. She really did. She just shouldn’t be in charge of taking care of them. And she honestly didn’t know much about horses.

“Where are they housed now?” She assumed a barn. But was it here on this property that was now Christine’s or—

“It would be better to show you,” William said. He pushed back from the desk and stood.

It probably would. They’d taken Mathias down to see the cars. That was when it had really sunk in for him, and William had been able to answer his questions. Maybe it would be good for Jill to meet the horses.

She rose and followed William out of the study. Christine and Mathias were right behind her. She and Christine had gone down to see the cars too. And on the way, she’d gotten a brief tour of at least a portion of A.J.’s—now Christine’s—house.

Holy shit. The man had lived in this? It was three stories and had to be thousands of square feet. Jill wasn’t that good at estimating things like that, but the place was huge.

A.J. had worn blue jeans with red suspenders and white t-shirts and tennis shoes every day she’d seen him. When it was cool, he’d wear a tan jacket. And a red cap. When it was cold, he’d wear a navy-blue coat and a red stocking cap. It was all basic, non-descript, totally average stuff. He’d looked like every other seventy-something man in any other setting.

“Down this way.” William turned into a hallway that led to the east part of the house.

Jillian’s heart started beating faster for some reason.

Anything that had been important to A.J. was important to her. If he wanted her to take care of something, she would. Or she would try. Or she’d hire someone to do it. And hope A.J. wasn’t the type of guy to haunt someone for half-assing what he’d asked her to do.

Or for finding the animals a new home. Someone who would actually want a horse. Or four. But damn, that made her feel instantly guilty. William wanted her to take care of them.

Please don’t let there be more than three or four. Please don’t let there be more than three or four.

Lord, even four horses was a lot. Who did she know that would take four horses?

William led them down one hallway. Then another. They took another left turn, then a right, then descended six stairs and then went through a large door. As Jill stepped into the room behind William, she was still thinking through all the people she knew who loved horses. It wasn’t that many.

If A.J. was giving her dogs, she could find them homes. If they were cats, she could definitely find them a place to go. Maybe even all together. Margie Perkins might even…

“Ms. Morris?”

It took her a moment to realize they’d stopped. She blinked.

The room they stood in looked like what she would assume an indoor in-home swimming pool would look like. It was a large open area with two glass walls that overlooked the property. A property that was just as gorgeous as the rest of the house.

There was emerald grass, tons of trees that were starting to change color now that it was early September, and numerous bushes and a gorgeous flower garden. But that wasn’t the most stunning thing.

What she couldn’t believe was the dirt, sand, rocks, and greenery inside the enclosure. Along with the man-made swimming pool, with its very own waterfall. And then of course the inhabitants of the area.

Penguins.

There were penguins in this room.

Five of them that she could see.

Real, live penguins.

Jill was barely aware of Christine and Mathias coming into the room and joining William at the small, waist-high gate that separated the doorway from the rest of the enclosure. The penguins were nowhere near the gate. And why would they be? They wouldn’t want to escape this room. It had everything they needed. It was a penguin paradise.

“I didn’t know that penguins didn’t need ice and snow until I met A.J.,” Mathias said.

So Mathias had known about the penguins. She assumed Christine had as well. She took care of the house, after all. Not that Christine looked to be the type of woman who probably routinely got into the penguin enclosure. Plus knowing A.J., he’d done all the hands-on work. This wasn’t just a penguin paradise, this was an A.J. paradise.

Then what Mathias said truly sunk in. Of course, Jill knew not all penguins need ice and snow. In fact, there were more species of penguins that lived in warmer climates than cold. But these penguins were specifically Galápagos penguins. Not only were they tropical penguins, but they were one of the most endangered species on the planet.

She knew they were A.J.’s favorites. These penguins were the reason he’d traveled to the Galápagos Islands the first time. He and Jill had talked at length about his trips.

But he’d never brought up the fact that he actually owned Galápagos penguins.

How did that even work? How did a guy come to own an endangered species and keep them in his house?

She looked at William. “A.J. is leaving me his penguins?”

“All eight of them.”

Her eyes widened and she looked back out over the penguin enclosure. She only saw three now. “There are eight?”

“Six adults and two juveniles.”

“Are any of them breeding pairs?” Jill asked, perking up. Penguins mated for life. If the penguins had laid viable eggs and hatched new penguins in captivity with A.J., that was huge.

“Yes, three pairs.”

“And the babies are theirs?”

“No.”

Jill deflated slightly.

“But A.J., and all of this, is part of a program where some wealthy investors with interest in wildlife conservation have each taken in a group of penguins. They are experimenting to see what private sanctuaries can do for preservation and propagation.”

Jill blew out a breath. “But what am I going to do with them? Am I leaving them here?” She looked at Christine. “This is your house now. Are we working together to keep the penguins here in this sanctuary?”

That was her immediate reaction and her first concern. These were not just eight horses. They really weren’t even just eight penguins. They were a penguin species that was vulnerable and threatened. All penguins needed protection, but the Galápagos penguin population in particular had dwindled.

In the back of her mind, Jill understood why A.J. had left the penguins to her. It was rare to come across someone who shared such a passion for penguins. She knew that well.

She’d been in love with the bird since she’d been eight years old and A.J. was the first person she’d found, including other veterinarians, who truly felt the same love and dedication to the birds she did. She understood now why he had been so excited to meet her and why he had continued their relationship over the past four years. But why hadn’t he told her about these penguins? Why hadn’t he told her he had a whole sanctuary here? Why hadn’t he warned her that he would need someone to care for them when the time came?

Okay, the last part wasn’t such a big deal. He had to know that there was no reason for her to turn down the request. Now that she knew about the penguins, even if she didn’t know exactly how this was going to work, there was no way she would let anyone else take care of them. Even the other veterinarians at the zoo wouldn’t do as well as she would.

Jill knew that she was kind of a mess. She never showed up on time for social events. She needed her mother to dress her for important professional engagements—or any engagement other than work, really. She ate cold cereal three nights a week—okay sometimes four, and she ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches the other nights. She liked other animals and would certainly care for them if needed, but she always preferred penguins over other animals. Always.

She knew who she was and she owned it.

She was a damned penguin expert.

It was the one thing she was good at. It was the one thing she’d focused on and concentrated all of her time and energy on.

And it had paid off.

Veterinarians and zookeepers from around the world called for her input. She wrote papers and taught on the subject. She’d led scientific expeditions to the Galápagos , Antarctica, and Argentina. She was part of two different world-wide teams working on the problems causing declines in penguin populations globally. And none were more threatened than the Galápagos.

And now she owned eight of them personally.

But Christine was shaking her head. “I’m really hoping to turn the house into a bed and breakfast. I intend to live in the west wing of the house and use the main section in this east wing as the bed and breakfast. As much as I love the penguins and have always found them fascinating, I have no desire to help take care of them. And I’d really rather not have them here.”

Jillian understood that. They were wild animals after all. They were adorable, of course, but they were not something that a typical person would want in their house. They weren’t pets.

In fact, the more she thought about it, if Christine didn’t have the passion and knowledge that A.J. had had, then she wasn’t the best one to care for these birds. And if she was going to have a lot of people in and out of the house, that wasn’t good either. Who knew what people might do to the penguins?

They’d had an incident a year ago at the zoo where a little boy had somehow slipped into the penguin enclosure. They’d found him wet, sitting by the side of the pool when his class had discovered him missing. His mother had come to pick him up and when she got him home and into the bathtub to clean up, she’d unzipped his backpack and found a baby penguin inside.

Jillian had almost had a heart attack. She’d also almost lost her job for yelling at the child’s teacher and the parent chaperones for the trip.

She’d been called into the director’s office and had had flashbacks to when her friend Griffin had been fired from the zoo for a similar incident. That had been the start of her issues with the zoo director. But it hadn’t been the end of her issues.

“And A.J. didn’t want to just donate the animals to the zoo?” Jill asked William.

That seemed the obvious choice for someone who had a group of wild animals that needed care, but she was so glad A.J. hadn’t chosen that option.

William was watching her closely. “He actually considered that, but apparently as he got to know you better, you shared with him that you had some…issues with the zoo director. A.J. realized that you may not be employed at the zoo for the rest of your career and it occurred to him that if he wanted you caring for the penguins, the only way to ensure that was to actually give the penguins to you and let you decide where they would live.”

Jill was touched by that. She really was the best choice. She, by far, would take the best care of these animals.

But she certainly didn’t have a huge enclosure that included everything from sand to waterfalls for them to live in.

“If I don’t give them to the zoo, what will I do with them?”

“Each penguin comes with two million dollars,” William told her. “So you have a total of sixteen million dollars to work with. Of course, that money has to be used directly or at least indirectly for the penguins’ care. But that can be used to relocate them, of course, as well as to care for them long-term, including food, shelter, medical care. It can also be used to house you, since you are essential for their well-being. If you need to build a new house or move to a new place, that money can certainly be used for that.”

Jill knew she was staring at him. He had just said the words sixteen million dollars to her. That definitely deserved a stare.

She turned back to the enclosure. She could now see six of the penguins. Correction, six of her penguins.

Suddenly her chest felt warm and she felt her eyes stinging again.

She now had eight penguins. Galápagos penguins.

Thanks to a sweet little old man who had come to the zoo one Thursday and had started up a simple conversation with the words, “Some scientists think that penguins sometimes jump for sheer joy.”

She’d instantly known that this man knew more about penguins than the average person. Penguins leapt from the water like dolphins, an act called porpoising, and it was true that some scientists thought it truly was out of happiness more than for any other reason.

Watching the penguins, she felt a little like jumping for joy herself. This was an amazing opportunity. And she suddenly understood why A.J. hadn’t told her about them.

He’d wanted this to be a surprise. He wanted to make her dream come true and he’d wanted to do it in a way that would give her joy even as she was sad and grieving losing him. It was his way of showing her that their bond would go on.

“How long has he had the penguins?” she asked.

“They started the program just over a year ago.”

She frowned. “And…when did he get his cancer diagnosis?”

“About fifteen months ago.”

Her breath caught in her chest. A.J. hadn’t gotten these penguins for himself. She was certain he’d been optimistic about beating the cancer at first. That was just A.J. But she also knew that he’d agreed to be a part of the program, even with cancer, because he knew he had her.

“He has all of the permissions, licensing, and paperwork in place. You can relocate the penguins as needed with a little help from me,” William said with a smile. “But you are officially the owner and caretaker of these penguins as far as the program and all the pertinent government entities are concerned.”

Jillian sucked in a huge long breath. “So I have eight penguins and sixteen million dollars. And I need to move them out of here in time for Christine to turn the house into a bed and breakfast.”

“You can keep them here, of course, until you have a plan,” Christine assured her.

She appreciated that, but knew that Christine didn’t mean that she could take a year or more to figure this out.

“So, I guess I need to try to make some plans,” Jill said.

“I’m happy to help with anything you need,” William said. “I have all the contacts that you might need. A.J.’s partners in the private sanctuary program are eager to talk with you.” William smiled again. “A.J. told them all about you. They’re excited to have your expertise.”

“They don’t have expertise?” she asked.

“They are mostly just people with money who want to help with wildlife conservation and really like penguins.”

Oh. So she really would be the expert of the group. Well…great. She was used to that, actually. Truly, in any group of humans, 99.8% of the time she would know more than anyone else about penguins.

Nothing else, of course, but penguins? Absolutely.

“Are there rules about where I take the penguins?”

She supposed she could stay here, but she wasn’t from Omaha. She’d come here specifically for the job with the zoo. But she didn’t really have a desire to go home to Kansas either.

“No, the location has nothing to do with the program. They just require the penguins’ environment be protected and controlled. They want it as natural as possible, with no other penguin types. They want to strictly limit the number of caregivers as well, in a quiet, non-disruptive environment, with plenty of food, of course, so that they feel secure to breed regularly and produce viable eggs.”

That made sense. Food availability was the primary factor that impacted the penguins’ breeding habits in the wild.

So where did she want to take the penguins? What made the most sense? With sixteen million dollars she could probably relocate the penguins anywhere she wanted.

But she was suddenly feeling a little alone.

She often felt alone. She liked being alone. She liked doing her own thing.

But she’d never been responsible for eight other living beings before.

On purpose.

And even if they were penguins, she was feeling intimidated and overwhelmed.

Killing a houseplant was one thing. Something she still felt bad about and why she’d stopped getting them.

Killing a goldfish was also pretty terrible and it had only taken her a weekend to give away the one she’d gotten impulsively two years ago.

She’d never even entertained the idea of getting so much as a gerbil or a bearded dragon or anything. And definitely not a cat or dog.

Now she had penguins. And while, yes, she knew everything about them, these were an endangered species. If she couldn’t keep them alive, it would be devastating. Not just to the general welfare of the penguins, but to her mentally and emotionally.

This was her passion in life.

This was what she’d dedicated her entire career to.

This was what she did instead of having friends, or dating, or going to concerts, or book clubs. Hell, she read research articles—or wrote them—instead of reading books.

Jill felt her heart hammering and her breathing coming in near pants now.

She was freaking out.

Yes, she worked with penguins all day, every day. Yes, including Christmas. Just ask her mother.

But that was in controlled environments. With other people around to help feed them and watch for problems.

No, she’d never forgotten to feed them and yes, she was always the one who caught problems first but she didn’t have to be.

Now, with these eight, she did.

She was on her own.

They were her responsibility. Just hers.

The woman who couldn’t even remember to change her shoes before an after-work meeting.

“Ms. Morris? Are you all right?”

Jill was staring at her penguins. All eight of them were now out in view and she watched them waddle and talk to one another and splash at the edge of the water and in spite of the adrenaline rushing through her veins, her heart swelled.

They were so beautiful.

And they needed her.

Her.

Shewas their best chance for survival.

She nodded. “I think so.”

“Will that all be possible?” William asked.

Without looking at him, Jill asked, “Are you asking if I’m willing to dedicate all of my time and energy to these penguins and making sure they are safe and stay healthy and continue to breed and multiply?”

“Yes, that is what I’m asking.”

She nodded. “It’s an absolute dream come true.”