Never Fall for Your Back-Up Guy by Kate O’Keeffe

Chapter 9

Asher pulls the door to his flat open and immediately his eyes lock onto Stevie, snuggled into my arms. “You brought your puppy?” He tries to look grumpy as I balance my pink tablet bag and vintage Chanel handbag along with Stevie. I know he doesn’t mean it.

“She’s my new sidekick, what can I say?”

Stevie bangs her tail against me and begins to wriggle to get free.

“Cute sidekick, although I’m not sure how helpful she’s going to be in measuring up the flat today.”

“She’s going to be incredibly helpful. Aren’t you, my little pooch?” I nuzzle her warm fur.

Asher arches an eyebrow. “Here, let me take those for you.” He unhooks my bags from my shoulders and holds them for me.

“That’s better. Thanks.” I follow him into his sparse living room, still holding my now frantically squirming puppy. “Is it okay if I let Stevie run around your flat? She’s been a bit of a naughty girl today, and I think she could do with letting off some steam.”

“Isn’t that what dog parks are for?”

“She’s too little for a dog park yet and besides, she needs her final shots before she can go near one of those places.”

Asher eyes Stevie. “Has she done her doggy business already?”

“Absolutely.” I don’t mention it was on Scarlett’s shirt. There’s no need to get into details.

“Okay. I’ve got hardwood floors, so if she has an accident, it won’t be hard to clean up.”

“Oh, I’ll take care of it if she does.”

“Yeah, I meant you,” he replies with a laugh. “Let me go close some doors first.” He leaves the room.

I hold Stevie up to give her some clear instructions. “Play nice. Don’t eat anything. Definitely don’t pee on anything.” I lower her to the ground then pick her up again and add, “Or worse.”

Asher returns to the room, closing the door to the hallway behind himself.

I put Stevie gently down on the floor and watch as she immediately dashes around the place sniffing, her oversized paws slipping in all directions on the shiny floor.

“That puppy of yours sure has some energy.”

“She’s been cooped up at the shop. We can’t let her wander around the store, so she’s been in the back room. I’m getting a pen for her until she’s grown up a bit.”

“By ‘grown up’ do you mean toilet trained and less likely to gnaw on people’s things?”

“She doesn’t gnaw on people’s things.”

Asher gestures at Stevie. She’s tottering towards us, proudly dragging one of Asher’s shoes along the hardwood floor. She stops and immediately drops to the ground and begins to gnaw on the shoe.

“Stevie, no!” I say as I swipe the shoe from her and examine it for damage. There’s a distinctive set of puncture marks in the shape of a small dog’s mouth. I hold it up. “I am so sorry. I’ll get you a new pair. I promise.”

Asher takes the shoe from me. “Maybe I should give her the other one so she can even things out?”

“Very funny.”

“When is she going to puppy school?”

“I grew up with dogs. I know how to train her.”

He shoots me a sideways look. “Do you, Zee?”

“Yes!” I insist. “This is just teething problems, nothing more.”

“Pun intended?” He gestures at the shoe.

We both watch as Stevie scrambles across the floor down the hallway. We follow her into the bedroom where she comes to a crashing halt in front of a floor length mirror. She gazes at her reflection, moves to one side, and her ears prick up. She presses her nose up against the mirror and jumps back, shocked from the cold when she was expecting a warm, wet nose. She gives an excited yap and starts bouncing around. She barks and growls and hurtles herself at her reflection.

I glance at Asher. He’s got a smirk on his face, which he quickly wipes away. “Call a puppy school today, Zee. That dog is a danger to herself.”

I give him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

He pulls a face. “I’m not being bossy. Just sensible.”

“You’re totally being bossy, but Stevie and I love you for it. Now, let’s sit down and I’ll show you my ideas for this place. I’ll need to measure up, too.”

We return to the kitchen where we sit on his two stools—black leather and chrome, naturally—at his kitchen bench, and I place my tablet in front of us, touch it, and the screen lights up.

“What have you got for me, wifey?”

“You know how you said you liked the grey colour palette? Well, I thought of combining these elements for your living room.” I pull up one of the mood boards I made with images I cut and pasted from our suppliers, including examples of furniture, a rug, light fittings, a colour palette, and a few accessories. “This is the one I thought you’d like the best, but I did another couple for contrast.”

He points at one of the accessories. “What’s with the horse’s head? I may be one eighth Italian, but...”

“I thought it was stylish and bachelor pad-y.”

His lips quirk. “Is that an official interior designer word? ‘Bachelor pad-y?’”

“Who’s the interior designer here?”

“What else you got?”

I pull up the other mood boards. “I also did this board, which is less contemporary and more traditional,” I begin only to be interrupted by growling.

We both turn around to see Stevie’s teeth sunk into Asher’s black leather sofa. She’s pulling with all her might—which isn’t a whole lot considering she weighs as much as a couple of cans of baked beans. I leap off my stool and say, “Stevie! No!” as I sweep her up. She immediately lets go of the edge of the sofa and focusses instead on furiously licking my neck, making me giggle.

Asher watches us with an amused look on his face. “You two are a perfect team. She destroys the client’s existing furniture so you can replace it all with new stuff.”

I survey the sofa, looking for damage. There’s a row of neat tooth marks on the bottom corner, but luckily no tears. “Sorry about that. She’s a liability right now.”

“I’ll say it again. One word: puppy school.”

“That’s two words.”

“It was a joke.”

I straighten back up. “Next time you tell a joke, why don’t you warn me in advance so I can prepare to laugh at the right time.”

“You’re a comedian, did you know that?”

I throw him a winning smile. “One of us needs to be, babe.” I return my attention to Stevie. “Maybe if I give her some food she might settle down and have a sleep.”

“Yeah, because fuelling her up will definitely not give her any extra energy. I’m just glad she didn’t go for one of my boards.” He nods at the three surfboards he has leaning up against the wall.

“She couldn’t get her jaw around one of those if she tried. Look at her,” I thrust Stevie at him and to my surprise, he takes her in his arms.

“She’s so soft and warm,” he coos, his bossy edge from moments ago softened into a mush of puppy love.

“I’m going to get a bowl. You two get to know one another.”

I begin to rifle through his half-empty kitchen cupboards, looking for a bowl. Locating one on my fourth cupboard, I pull a packet of dog biscuits from my handbag, pour some out, and place the bowl on the wooden floorboards. “Stevie, want some food?” I ask, but she’s too busy playing with Asher who’s now sitting on the sofa with her bouncing over him.

I stop and watch. It’s cute to see them together having some fun. Asher’s eyes are soft and warm as he watches Stevie bounce and fall and get back up. He lifts his gaze to mine, and grins at me. “I want to find her annoying, but she’s super cool.”

“I knew you’d love her.”

I sit and the two of us play with Stevie until she begins to slow, flops down on her belly, her eyes growing heavy. Before long, she’s fallen asleep on Asher’s lap, exhausted from her frantic playing.

“She likes you,” I say.

“What can I say? All the girls do.”

“That’s what I love so much about you, you know. Your modesty.”

“Show me the other moody things.”

“They’re called ‘mood boards’ and you know it.” I grab my tablet from the kitchen bench and come back and plonk myself down next to Asher. I show him the other mood boards I put together, and he points to features he likes across all three. I take a note and agree to show him the final scheme later in the week.

“Can you get me that exact sofa?” he asks, pointing at a brown leather mid-century modern style sofa.

“I can. I’ve seen them at a supplier. It’s so comfy.”

“Sold.”

“But…you don’t even know how much it costs, and we haven’t even talked budget yet.”

“What can I say? I want what I want, and right now, I want that sofa. Email me your full quote and we’ll take it from there.”

I narrow my eyes at him as I recall a conversation we had some time ago. “You told me when we went to Sebastian and Emma’s vow renewal that you would have to save up your pennies to be able to afford my services. No offence, but it won’t be cheap.”

He gives a totally nonchalant shrug. “I want to get it right. Go ahead and quote me. For all of it.”

“Okay,” I reply uncertainly. I move on. “This is the high-level design for the wardrobe. Loads of shelving and hanging space, and a spot for a floor length mirror for you to gaze at yourself in.

“I do a lot of gazing at myself,” he replies with a grin.

I laugh. “I’m sure you do.”

I glance down at Stevie. She looks so comfortable as she snuggles up to Asher. “I’m going to have to measure up your place. You okay sitting here with the puppy?”

He glances at his wristwatch. “Actually, I need to get back to the office shortly. I’ve got a meeting soon. Hey, can you bring me my cell?”

“You could move her, you know.”

“I don’t want to interrupt her sleep.”

I laugh. “You big softie. Where’s your phone? I’ll go get it for you.”

“Hallway table.”

I collect his phone and notice he’s got a bunch of alerts. As I hand it to him, I tell him, “It must be so hard to be as popular as you are.”

He flicks through his messages. “They’re mainly work.”

I peer over his shoulder and read one of the messages out loud in a sultry voice. “Asher, I’m thinking about you as I lie in my bubble bath.’ That does not sound like a work message to me, unless I’ve got no idea what being a lawyer actually entails.”

He slaps his phone against his chest and looks up at me. “Zara Huntington-Ross, you might be my future wife, but that doesn’t mean you can go reading my personal messages.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “All I’m saying is that is not a work message. That’s all. And who’s Fenella, anyway?”

“I brought her to your birthday party, remember?”

“You’re such a serial dater it’s hard to keep a handle on which girl it is this week. Seriously, you’ve got a problem.”

He chuckles, and Stevie lifts her head briefly, her eyes firmly shut, before she flops back down again and begins to snore. “I didn’t ask her to think of me while lying in her tub.”

I cock an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Who made you my mom all of a sudden?”

“I’m not being motherly. All I’m saying is you’re getting on. Isn’t it about time you settled down? Found a nice girl?”

“If I do that, I won’t get to marry my back-up girl, will I?”

“Don’t count on it. I plan on meeting Mr. Right way before then.”

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking that guy George with the ridiculous last name could be him.”

Heat fills my cheeks. “No,” I reply, convincing no one, let alone Asher.

He looks me square in the eyes. “He’s an idiot.”

“So you keep saying, but so far, there hasn’t been any evidence of his alleged idiocy.”

He crinkles his brow. “When’s your date?”

A smile teases the edges of my mouth. “Tomorrow night.”

He pushes out a puff of air. “Have fun,” he says. And it’s so disingenuous it makes me burst into laughter. “What?” he asks as he shakes his head.

I lean down and kiss him on the cheek. “I love that you’ve gone all big brother on me, which is weird considering you think I’m acting like your mum.”

“And one day, we might be married. How’s that gonna work?”

I giggle. “Who knows. Hey, I need to go and measure up your wardrobe. You message the girl in the bubble bath and whatever other girls you’ve got on a string.”

“I don’t date more than one at a time, and they know it’s just for fun. Nothing serious.”

“You tell them that? Like, straight up, ‘this is just for fun?’”

“Yup.”

“And they still go out with you?”

“Sure. It’s best to be up front with them from the get go.”

I size him up. With his official status as a bona fide member of the Tall, Dark, and Handsome club it’s obvious to see how he attracts all these women. But I know it’s more than that. He’s fun and charming and easy to be with. It’s a killer combination, that’s for sure.

“What?” he says, his lips curved into a smile.

I shake myself back into the room. “Nothing. I need to get on with this.”

I collect my handbag from the kitchen bench and make my way into Asher’s bedroom. I pull the double doors to his wardrobe open and stop and examine the space. It’s so crammed full of boxes and junk, it’s almost impossible to measure.

“Hey, Asher. Can I move some of your boxes in here?” I call out. “I’m in your wardrobe.”

I hear footsteps and then he appears beside me, a sleeping Stevie nestled up against his chest. “Let’s swap. You take the sleeping dog and I’ll measure.”

“It needs to be accurate for the wardrobe company to fit their design.”

“Are you questioning my ability to measure four walls? I am a guy, you know. It’s part of the man card: you’ve got to know how to measure stuff, put stuff together, and read a map.”

“I’m glad I’m not a guy, then.”

He hands me Stevie. “Measuring tape, please.”

“It’s in my handbag.”

He begins to rifle through my bag. “You’ve got a wallet, a set of keys, a bunch of receipts, and five lipsticks.” He looks up at me. “Five?”

“What can I say? I change my lip colour with my mood.”

“Clearly. No measuring tape.”

“Seriously? I was sure I brought one.”

He holds my bag open for me to see.

“Can I use yours then, please?”

“Sure. It’s in one of those boxes.”

We both look up at the stack of boxes, reaching all the way to the ceiling.

“Useful,” I say.

“Sorry. I didn’t know my decorator would come to measure up my closet without a measuring tape.”

“I guess I’m going to have to come back.”

“Which reminds me.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out something. “This is for you.”

I eye the silver key as it catches the light. “A key to your place, huh? That’s going to confirm every one of Lottie’s suspicions, you know.”

“It’s practical, that’s all. I’m about to be super busy with work. You having your own key means you can come and go whenever you need.”

I take it in my hand. “Sounds like a good idea.”

“You can start with remembering a measuring tape next time.”

“Yeah, got it.”

“If you’re all done, let’s go. I need to get back to the office.”

“Sure.” I collect my things and together we leave the flat and head down the stairs to the street.

“So, I can use my key whenever I need?” I ask as we walk down the street towards the Tube stop.

“Well, within reason.”

“Maybe you need to leave a tie around the doorknob so I don’t intrude on you when you’re ‘entertaining’ Fenella.” I use air quotes to make my point.

His eyes are dancing when he tells me, “Just text before you come over. That way I’ve got time to hide all my women.”

“You pretend it’s a joke, but I know you, Asher McMillan.”

“Do you?” he asks, and the look on his face morphs from light-hearted banter to something else.

Intrigued at what he means, I open my mouth to reply when Stevie wakes up and immediately begins to squirm to get down. I hook on her lead and put her on the ground, where she sniffs around excitedly.

Asher’s phone rings and he glances at the screen. “I’ve gotta go, wifey. Go get me that sofa, ‘kay? Oh, and a tape measure.”

“I’m on it,” I say and I wave goodbye as I make my way down the street, Stevie pulling me along.