Page 20 of For You, Sir

“That’s great! I love cats.” I mean, I sort of did. And I was happy to exaggerate to share in Jun’s enthusiasm. “Got a pic?”

Jun took out his phone, and butterflies tumbled in my stomach. I already had his cell number so I could reach him after hours, but that was all business. Sharing photos was something friends and lovers did. The more I could connect with Jun on an intimate level, the easier it would be to keep pushing things in that direction.

Jun quickly found a pic he wanted—of course he kept his photos organized like everything else—but he held the phone’s screen against his chest before turning it around to show me. “He’s a hairless cat,” he warned. “A Sphynx.”

“Cool.”Seriously? Do people actually own those?“Let’s see it.”

He smiled like a proud parent and handed me his phone. The cat… was hideous. Its hairless body was gray-black and fleshy pink, covered in loathsome wrinkles. Even its forehead and narrow cheeks were furrowed, making him look like a grumpy old goblin. “Whoa.” I forced a smile. “Uhh, cute.”

The edge of Jun’s mouth quirked sheepishly, and he grabbed back his phone. “They’re not for everyone,” he admitted.

“No, no!”Shit.I wished I could have faked it better. “It’s like… So ugly, it’s cute. Like a pug.”

He breathed a chuckle and returned his phone to his pocket. There didn’t seem to be any hard feelings, but I sensed my chance slipping away.

“Well, that’s great news,” I said. “We should celebrate. Why don’t you stay for dinner tonight? We can crack open a bottle of champagne.”

He assessed me with an unreadable expression.

“Unless you’ve got plans tonight?”I know you don’t, Jun. Stay with me.

“We don’t have any champagne,” Jun said.

I knew he meantyou-the-clientandme-the-shopper, but that ‘we’ still sounded pleasantly intimate. “Red’s fine by me. You can even bring the kitty over." It seemed wise to extend a peace offering after I’d insulted the little flesh demon.

Jun smiled a little and shook his head. “Better leave him where he is. He’s still getting used to my place.”

I wondered what Jun’s place looked like and pictured an immaculate studio apartment. With a bunch of weird sex toys under the bed, maybe.

“Staying after work sounds nice,” Jun said. “Thank you, Sir.”

I tried to hold it back, but couldn’t help the triumphant smile spreading across my face.

After work, Jun took off his apron, and I savored the knowledge he was at my house simply because he wanted to be. He brought us each a plate of spiral pasta with a meaty Bolognese sauce and a glass of pinot noir. We sat at the kitchen table overlooking the backyard, and I was glad when he took the seat beside me instead of across, our knees almost touching under the table.

I took a bite of the spiral pasta. Jun’s long-simmered sauce was satin-smooth, and loaded with fresh herbs. “Dear God, that’s good.”

A little color appeared in his cheeks. “Thank you, Sir.”

“To Mrs. Olsen.” I raised my glass.

“To Mrs. Olsen.” Jun clinked my glass with his. He took a sip of wine and a drop of burgundy lingered on his cupid’s bow when he set down the glass. I caught a glimpse of his pink tongue as he licked it away.

“You two must have been close,” I ventured. “How long did you work for her?”

“A little over a year,” Jun said. “Not long, really, but it was a live-in assignment. I was there for her after she got a bad diagnosis. Her own family mostly kept their distance.”

“I see.” I wondered if Olsen’s lay-about family members were miffed that Jun got a cut of “their” pie. “Since she was sick, I guess her death was expected?”

“No, actually. It was… sudden.” Jun twisted the cloth napkin in his lap. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I was glad to drop it. “Then, here’s to her cat finding a happy home.”

Jun’s smile returned, and we clinked glasses again. “To Mr. Cuddles,” he agreed.

I chuckled at the ridiculous name, and took another sip, watching Jun’s pale throat work as he swallowed his wine.

“That’s a tasty pinot,” I said. “Good pick.”

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