Page 23 of Men or Paws
“What makes you say that?” Beth asked. “You don’t know me.”
“I’m a good judge of character. You would rather kick me in the private parts than take my money.”
Beth nodded. “Okay, I guess you do know me a little.” She tapped on number twenty-two of the addendum. “Here is something I added. I would like access to the kitchen to work on my recipes in case I need more space than what is in the guesthouse. Of course, I wrote that thinking you wouldn’t be in the house. I’ll clean up after myself.”
“Yes, of course,” I said, glad she was still considering watching Houdini. “You can use the kitchen all you want, but I do have a housekeeper, Gwen, who comes every day except Sunday to take care of the place. She’s around here somewhere. She can clean up your mess.”
Beth glanced over at the pizza box and empty beer bottle on the kitchen counter, my dinner from the night before.
“She had the day off yesterday,” I quickly added, just in case she thought Gwen wasn’t doing her job or I was lying. “Her daughter had a baby.”
“I can clean up after myself,” Beth said. “The last thing I want to do is create more work for Gwen.”
Speak of the devil . . .
Gwen walked in and smiled. “Don’t you worry about me. I can easily handle whatever you throw my way.” She leaned toward Beth and extended her hand. “You must be Beth. I’m Gwen.”
Beth shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, as well. And it’s not extra work. Rocco is such a neat-freak that sometimes I feel guilty there’s not enough work around here for me to do.”
Beth stared at me, like I was the Creature from the Black Lagoon. What? She’d never heard of a man being tidy and organized?
“Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Gwen joked. “I hope I still have a job next week.”
“You’re stuck with me forever,” I reassured Gwen, even though she knew she wasn’t going anywhere. “And I’d be happy to accidentally spill a drink or two this week if it makes you feel better.”
Gwen wagged her finger at me and laughed. “Don’t even think about it.” She turned to Beth. “By the way, I took your suitcase and cooking supplies to the guesthouse.”
Beth smiled. “Thanks so much. I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure, although someone should have told you the guesthouse is already completely stocked with food and all the cookware and gadgets you’ll ever need.”
“Marcello did mention that to me in his email, but I like to use my own tools of the trade when I’m experimenting in the kitchen. I didn’t mind bringing them.”
“I recognize some of those brands you brought from my favorite cooking shows on the Food Network. Are you a professional chef?”
Beth nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Yeah?” I said, surprised. “Which restaurant?”
Beth hesitated, something flickering in her eyes. “Well, actually, I used to be a chef. I’m developing a new line of organic food and branching out on my own.”
“Sounds like you’re still a chef to me and a soon-to-be entrepreneur,” Gwen said. “How exciting.”
“It is, actually,” Beth said, her face lighting up.
“Good for you.” Gwen pointed to the paperwork. “I’ll let you two get back to work. I’ll be around if you need anything at all.”
“Thanks so much.”
Gwen stuck the beer bottle from the kitchen counter in the recycle bin, then gathered the pizza box and extra napkins, disappearing around the corner.
Beth turned back to me and seemed to perk up a little. “She’s delightful.”
“She’s the best,” I said. “So, do we have a deal, or what? Are you going to commit to watching Houdini for me?”
Beth thought about it, then surprised me by grabbing the pen and signing the contract. “I hope I don’t regret this.”
