“I had Zoey stay over because of her concussion.”
“You mean that stupid little bump on her head you blew me off for?” Adjusting her gazillion dollar fur coat, she looks at me harshly. “You owe me a dinner.”
“We can go to the Polo Lounge tonight.” I turn to Zoey. “Zoey, can you please make us a res—”
Katrina cuts me off. “It’s too late. I’m off to New York for Fashion Week. I’m taping segments there for my series.”
Great. A week away from her! I inwardly sigh with relief. I need the time to think things through. I still don’t feel a thing for her in my heart or my soul. Nor can my brain remember a damn thing about our past. And she does nothing to arouse my cock. The only thing she gets up is my blood pressure.
My relief is short-lived. Not only does the obnoxious mutt growl at me, but Katrina also throws me a curve ball.
“And, darling, you’re going to meet me there next Thursday. Scott booked The Letterman Show for us.”
What the f*ck
! This is all news to me. Why didn’t Scott tell me? Or even Zoey? I ask my fiancée why I’m just learning this. She tells me it happened last minute—on her way over here.
“I don’t think I can make it. I’m shooting all next week.” And I don’t want to leave Zoey alone.
“Make it work. And be sure to bring Gucci with you.”
I deconstruct her words. “What are you saying?”
“I’m leaving Gucci with you. As much as I would love to take him with me, it’s way too cold in New York for my little boy to be running around from show to show. And I just haven’t had the time to buy him a winter coat and booties.” She turns to the stoic livery. “I’ve packed all his LA outfits, his favorite toys, and his special dietary needs. He prefers home-cooked meals and is especially fond of poached eggs with smoked salmon.”
“What about his bed?” I stammer.
“Darling, Gucci only sleeps in real beds. So, he’ll be sleeping with you. Get used to it.” She smiles smugly while the menacing dog growls at me again.
“Oh, and by the way, while I’m here, can I please have my birthday present? Scott told me you bought me a bauble.”
Balls. I totally forgot about it. And have no idea what Zoey purchased with my credit card. Hopefully, it’s in her car, which is still parked at The Farmer’s Market.
Zoey covers for me. “Katrina, it hasn’t arrived yet. Brandon special ordered something for you online from Tiffany’s. It should be here any day.” She pauses, taking a long breath. “It’s beautiful.”
God, I love my assistant! She’s the one who deserves something special from Tiffany’s.
Katrina flashes a smile before her catty green eyes narrow. “Follow up on it, Zoey. And Brandon, be sure to bring whatever it is to New York. I want to show it off on Letterman.”
“I will,” I mutter, making a mental note to have Zoey arrange for a PA from the show to pick up her car later today. Taking her back to The Farmer’s Market so soon might upset her. I’m also going to call Scott and tell him to cancel my appearance. If Katrina wants to go on Letterman and tell the world about our relationship—or lack of one—fine. I’ll just FedEx the bauble to her.
Katrina cuts into my thoughts. “Now, Brandy-Poo, take Gucci from me.”
Is she kidding? The last thing I want to do is hold that nasty, finger-biting beast. Snarling, it bears those tiny razor-sharp teeth and eyes me hungrily. The painful memory of being bit on the toe by the vicious canine flashes into my head.
“Um, uh…” This is pathetic. Seriously? Me, Kurt Kussler, TV’s most fearless action hero, is afraid of an itsy bitsy, teeny-weeny little dog.
Thank God, Zoey steps in. “I’ll take him.” Standing up, she gathers the little white furball from Katrina and holds him in her arms. Wagging his tail, the dog seems to like her.
“Very well. And Zoey, since you’re the live-in maid around this place, don’t forget to walk him three times a day. His walking schedule is in the suitcase along with his pooper scooper and leash.” Katrina eyes Zoey with scorn. “I just hope with your condition and weight, you can keep up with him.”
I mentally growl at my fiancée. It’s time for her to stop insulting my priceless assistant. “Katrina, please apologize to Zoey. There was no need to say that.”
Katrina shoots me a dirty look before my assistant responds.
“Katrina, I don’t need your apology. And just FYI, I’m in great shape.”