‘Mr McKenzie,’ she said, her mouth thinning. ‘Come to collect your dog?’
‘Yes.’
He was about to apologise for the way he’d dumped the dog on her that morning, but she didn’t give him the chance. ‘I don’t care if you’re Mr Big Shot Actor, and I don’t care if you complain to Ayesha and get me fired for this, but what you did this morning is most definitely not the way to treat a dog. You dumped her on us—without any water, any food, any bedding, any toys—and that’s just not good enough.’
OK. He already knew that.
She wasn’t finished. ‘My sister and my best friend think you’re the greatest as a movie star.’
Implying, he thought, that she didn’t.
‘But, let me tell you, you totally suck as a dog owner.’
He couldn’t deny that. She was speaking the truth.
‘Absolutely. I know nothing about dogs.’ He paused. ‘And Baloo isn’t mine.’
That seemed to take the wind out of her sails. ‘She’s not yours?’
‘I’m looking after her—not that I had any choice—until my aunt gets back from America in three days’ time.’
‘Oh.’ She paused, frowning. ‘Why didn’t you have a choice?’
‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll take her off your hands, now.’ Not that he was going to make a good job of it. The next seventy-two hours or so were going to stretch him to the limit. It didn’t help that the dog had chewed his script, too. The damned dog chewed everything. Worse still, how could he remain angry with an animal who leaped around in joy and wagged her tail madly when she saw him, and right now was sitting at his feet, looking up at him with what was definitely the canine equivalent of a dopey welcoming smile?
‘Why didn’t you have a choice?’ The assistant’s voice was softer, now. Kinder.
God, how easy it would be to let himself respond. But he couldn’t afford to do that. He needed to keep his focus.
‘Your aunt must’ve known you’re working this week. She could’ve booked Baloo into kennels.’
‘She’s not my aunt’s dog, either.’ The words slipped out before he could stop them.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘So how come your aunt asked you to look after Baloo?’
It was a long, long story.
Diversion was the best tactic here. He smiled at her. ‘I’m sorry; I didn’t catch your name earlier.’
‘Jess Greenacre.’
‘Jess.’ Short for Jessica? A staccato name, clipped and a little harsh. How she’d been with him when he’d walked in. But now he looked at her—Jess. Softer. Sweeter. She wasn’t wearing a scrap of make-up, not even mascara to enhance those amazing green eyes.
And what the hell was he doing, letting himself notice that? He shook himself. Even if he was in a position to think about another relationship, it sure as hell wouldn’t be with anyone remotely connected to the movie business. Been there, done that, and been vilified by the press for it. Which really rankled, considering that he hadn’t been the one who’d cheated and broken up the marriage.
Though he had lied. About one tiny little fact. And if that ever got out...
He shook himself. ‘Jess. I was pretty short with you this morning. Rude, even. I’m sorry. This is your first day on set, isn’t it?’
She looked surprised that he’d noticed. ‘Yes, it is, Mr McKenzie.’
‘Call me Luke. And welcome to the team,’ he said.
She folded her arms. ‘OK, you get points for good manners. Even though I suspect you might be acting your socks off, right now.’
To his surprise, he found himself laughing.
When was the last time he’d really laughed like that? Really been amused?
And when was the last time someone had called him on his behaviour instead of tiptoeing round him? Probably not since before the break-up of his marriage.
Jess Greenacre was refreshing. And she was the first person in a long while to intrigue him. She looked older than the average production assistant, so this probably wasn’t her first job. So why was she in such a junior role?
None of his business, he reminded himself.
‘I’m not acting right now,’ he said. ‘And I’m not usually—well, like I was this morning.’
‘But your dog had just chewed your co-star’s shoes, there were some feathers that needed unruffling, and time was tight. You were under too much pressure, and you snapped.’
She’d worked all that out? Bright as well as refreshing, then. Apart from the one thing she just hadn’t seemed to grasp. ‘Baloo’s not my dog, but otherwise yes,’ he admitted. ‘My co-star didn’t want a doggy audience at rehearsals. I did put Baloo in a crate but then she howled the place down and the director wasn’t too pleased. I thought she’d be OK if I let her out. She sat really nicely and just watched. I thought it would be fine.’ He sighed. ‘I wasn’t prepared for her to sneak off when my back was turned and steal some shoes to chew. Even though she’s pretty much destroyed my house, the last two days.’
‘Destroyed your house?’ Jess asked.
‘I left her for ten minutes on Saturday morning to get some croissants and a newspaper. She opened every cupboard in the kitchen while I was gone and shredded every bag and box she could find. You wouldn’t believe how much mess rice, pasta, oatmeal and a bag of flour can make. Or how long it takes to clear up.’
Jess raised an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t leave her with any toys?’
‘She didn’t come with toys.’ He sighed. ‘She’s gutted three cushions, shredded two newspapers, chewed my script—and she can undo doors, so she won’t stay on her own bed at night and then insists on having more than half of mine.’
This time, Jess laughed. ‘I think Baloo needs something to keep her mind busy. Like those balls you can stuff with treats, and the dog has to work hard to get the treats out.’
Jess sounded as if she actually knew what she was talking about. ‘You know stuff about dogs?’ he checked.
She looked wary. ‘A bit.’
‘Jess, I need help. I know nothing about dogs. I’ve never had one.’
‘So why did your aunt ask you to look after her?’
‘It’s a long story.’ He looked at her. ‘You’ve probably been in here since the crack of dawn, and you’ll be expected in at the same time tomorrow. I can’t hold you up any longer. That’s not fair. I’ll take the dog and let you get on.’
She looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected him to notice the kind of hours the production team worked. And he could hardly blame her. She’d accused him of acting like Mr Big Shot Actor.
Which, admittedly, he had.
‘I’m not usually this much of an idiot,’ he said. ‘Without a good support team, no matter how many awards the cast has won between them, a film just won’t happen. You need the whole crew to work together, whether they’re in front of the camera or behind the scenes.’
‘Right.’ She looked thoughtfully at him. ‘I can stay a bit longer. How about I make us a cup of tea and you tell me about Baloo?’
‘How about,’ he said, ‘I make the tea?’
‘But you’re—’
‘Part of the team,’ he cut in, not wanting to hear her repeat that he was Mr Big Shot Actor. ‘If you’re going to tell me things that can help me deal with a shoe-stealing dog who chews anything she can get her paws on, then making you a cup of tea is the very least I can do.’
*
Was he still acting? Jess wondered.
Then again, Ayesha had said that Luke used to be a total sweetheart, but he’d had a hard time over the last year and it seemed to have changed him.
Maybe this man was the real Luke McKenzie, rather than the arrogant, grumpy man she’d met this morning.
And everyone deserved a second chance.
Well, nearly everyone. There were a couple of people that Jess hoped would stay in prison for the rest of their lives. Though now wasn’t the time to think about that.
‘Thank you, Mr McKenzie.’
&nbs
p; ‘Luke,’ he reminded her.
This was surreal. Since when would an A-list movie star ask you to call him by his first name? She pinched herself surreptitiously, just in case this was some weirdly realistic dream. It hurt. Not a dream, then. ‘Luke,’ she repeated. ‘I like my tea very weak and milky.’
‘So the tea bag says hello to the water and disappears again? That’s utterly gross,’ Luke said, ‘but OK, if that’s how you want it. Sugar?’
‘No, thanks. Tell me about Baloo.’
‘My aunt volunteers at a home for abandoned dogs,’ he said. ‘Baloo was—um—oh, just cover her ears for a second, will you?’
Cover the dog’s ears? Jess didn’t get it, but she did as he asked.
‘She was on death row. Monica—my aunt—smuggled her out. The problem was, Monica had to be at the airport six hours after that, and all the kennels were full.’
Jess smelt a rat. A very, very big one. ‘All the kennels were full?’
‘According to Monica, yes. She didn’t actually tell me why Baloo was on death row, but I’m guessing it’s to do with the stealing and chewing.’
‘Normally it’s because they’re an older dog who’s been abandoned, or because the owners can’t look after them any more—’ Jess forced herself not to think because they’d died ‘—and none of their friends or family has room for a pet. She’s young and healthy.’ She shrugged and stopped covering Baloo’s ears. ‘You’re probably right about the chewing. I’d guess it’s separation anxiety, especially as she wanted to be with you and she doesn’t cope with being left alone. But your aunt must’ve realised you know nothing about dogs.’
‘Yeah. Half the time, I’m not even in London; having a pet wouldn’t be fair because it would spend half its time in kennels.’
‘But you still agreed to look after Baloo.’
‘Temporarily. We’re rehearsing this week, and Monica’s back the day we start shooting.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘I had no idea that looking after a dog would be this hard.’
‘A dog who’s been kicked out of at least one home, to be on dea—well, in the position she was,’ Jess amended. ‘A dog with special needs. Not the easiest starter dog for a rookie owner.’
‘You know about dogs.’ It was a statement, not a question.
A lie would be too obvious. ‘Yes.’
‘Can you help me?’ he asked. ‘Please? I know you’re a virtual stranger and I have no right to ask you for help, but apart from my aunt you’re about the only person I’ve met who knows anything at all about dogs.’
Which wasn’t her problem. She could just walk away. This wasn’t part of her job description. She didn’t have to deal with the dog.
But Jess had never been the sort to walk away and refuse help when someone needed it. Saying no would be denying who she was.
‘Please, Jess?’ he asked again.
‘You’re the star of a movie, where I happen to be the production assistant and I’m supposed to do whatever I’m told. All you have to do is tell Ayesha you want me to jump, and she’ll ask you how high,’ Jess pointed out.
He winced. ‘God. I always swore I’d never be like that. And I was horrible, this morning. Worse than Mi–’ He stopped abruptly.
Jess could guess whose name he’d just cut off. Mimi, his co-star. Owner of expensive designer shoes, and clearly also hater of dogs.
‘I’m sorry,’ he finished.
She was pretty sure now that he wasn’t acting. His eyes were almost silver in this light. And they were utterly sincere. ‘Maybe you were having a bad day,’ she suggested.
‘A lot of bad days all in a row,’ he said, wrinkling his nose. ‘But that’s still no excuse for treating people badly.’
Did he have any idea how cute it made him look when he wrinkled his nose like that?
Yes, of course he did. He must do, she thought. It was his job, after all. Hunky movie star. The job description no doubt included the line: must look gorgeous and appealing to all women at all times.
‘Jess, can you help me? Please?’ he asked again.
More charm. He’d made her a cup of tea, just the way she liked it. And she noticed how often he’d used her name—a trick she’d been taught at work, too. It made people have confidence in you if you used their name. It made them feel that you were on their side. It made whatever you said feel personal.
No.
She ought to say no.
She didn’t want to get involved with another dog. Not after losing Comet. The whole point of working as a freelancer was that she wouldn’t get time to bond with any of her colleagues—not like her days with the police, when she knew every single dog in her team and every single handler she trained. When they were friends as well as colleagues. When she’d known most of the dogs from the moment they were born.
Being that close to everyone had left her life in tatters, and she just couldn’t let that happen all over again.
‘Please, Jess?’ he asked softly. ‘I can’t hold up rehearsals until my aunt gets back. We’re on a tight schedule and a tight budget as it is. And I definitely can’t take Baloo back to the dogs’ home. You know what will happen if I do.’
The dog would be put down.
And Jess had had enough death in her life, this last year or so. She couldn’t bear the idea of a young, healthy dog being put down just because she hadn’t been trained and was a bit boisterous.
‘She needs training. Which means a lot of time and hard work and patience,’ Jess warned.
‘I guess that’ll be Monica’s job. Or maybe when she gets back she’ll find the right home for her, with someone who can do the training. But for now Baloo’s with me. And I haven’t got the time to train her or give her the attention she needs.’ He stooped to scratch the back of the dog’s head, and the dog rubbed her face against his knee.
Not his dog, hmm? From Jess’s point of view, that looked like some serious bonding going on. He’d made a fuss of the dog without even realising he was doing it. And the dog was looking adoringly back at him. As far as Baloo was concerned, she’d found the person she wanted to live with for the rest of her days; Jess had a feeling that Luke might not have quite as much say in the matter as he thought he did.
‘So can you help us, Jess? Please?’
Say yes, and open herself up to the risk of getting involved and being hurt.
Or do the sensible thing and say no, sorry, she couldn’t.
Except that would mean refusing to help a dog who was already in trouble and had nobody to speak up for her. How could Jess possibly do that?
‘Can’t you find a dog-sitting service?’ she asked in a last-ditch effort.
‘Dump her on someone else, you mean?’ He grimaced. ‘Monica trusted me with her, and I’ve already messed up once. I feel Baloo ought to stay near me.’
‘Even though you keep telling me she’s not your dog?’ She couldn’t help calling him on the inconsistency.
‘Fair point.’ He sighed. ‘Look, Monica’s my favourite aunt. And she’s batted my corner more than once. This is my chance to do something for her. I just need someone to help me get through the next three days.’
Three days.
Knowing that she was probably doing totally the wrong thing, but not being able to steel her heart enough to be sensible, Jess said, ‘OK. I’ll help. Provided it’s OK with Ayesha.’
‘Thank you, Jess. I really appreciate this.’
When Luke shook her hand, it made Jess feel all funny. Tingly. Weird. Like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
Then again, Luke McKenzie was a movie star. He had stage presence—no, screen presence—and this was a straightforward case of being faced with that for the first time. After a couple of weeks of working on the set, no doubt she’d be completely immune to it.
‘No problem, Mr McKenzie,’ she mumbled.
He gave her another of those knee-melting smiles. ‘I meant it when I said to call me Luke.’
Oh, that smile. On the big screen
, his smile was stunning. In real life, it was a hundred times better. No wonder he had a ton of female fans willing to fall at his feet and do just about anything for him. Jess was horribly aware that she’d just joined their ranks and she understood now for the first time why her sister and her best friend had always raved about him so much.
Because Luke McKenzie really was something else.
‘So, where do we start?’ he asked. ‘What time are you in tomorrow?’
‘Half past seven.’
‘You’ll need time to get stuff sorted, first. Shall I meet you here at half past eight?’ he asked.
Again, Jess’s whole body felt tingly and weird. Which was crazy. Luke McKenzie wasn’t asking her out on a date and arranging when and where to meet her. Of course a movie star wouldn’t ask an ordinary person on a date. He just wanted her to help him train his dog. This was business.
‘If it’s OK with Ayesha,’ she said again.
‘If what’s OK with me?’ the production manager said, walking back into the office and clearly overhearing the end of Jess’s words.
‘I need help with the dog,’ Luke said. ‘So she doesn’t steal anything else from Mimi and chew it to pieces. It’s only for three days. And I’m more than happy to pay for a temp to fill in for Jess.’
‘Baloo wasn’t any trouble today,’ Jess said. ‘I don’t need anyone to fill in for me. I can still do what I need to do here and have her with me.’
‘Are you sure?’ Luke asked.
She nodded.
‘If the actors are happy, then I’m happy,’ Ayesha said. ‘OK, Mr McKenzie. Jess can help with your dog.’
He grimaced. ‘We were on first-name terms when we worked on A Forever Kind of Love, a couple of years back. Or would you prefer me to call you Ms Milan now?’
Ayesha winced. ‘This film isn’t the same as that one.’
The Return of Mrs. Jones Page 18