Eventually. But not before my next fight. Which means I won’t get the payday I’m hoping for if I win. Not even close.
And that will only keep me right where I am, or worse.
Running back home like my parents want.
Closing my eyes, I pray,Lord, if this is what you want for me, please help me succeed.
Chapter Eight
ROMILLY
Bash does surprisinglydecent at work the rest of the week. Despite his obvious physical strength, I thought he’d have a much harder time. It does, however, take me a ridiculous amount of restraint to not freak out on Saturday when he gets bit by Shadow, a black Schnauzer.
He’s going to quit. He’s going to quit just like Lana and Agatha did and leave me to do this all alone.
But holding up his thumb, Bash grins at me. “I’m going to get rabies, aren’t I?”
“Why do you look so excited about that idea?”
“Because I’m a man, Romilly. I live for danger. Will I die?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Anything is possible.”
“Excellent.”
With a laugh, I look for a bandage in my bag, hanging from my station. “All the dogs that come in have to be up to date on their shots, and the system would alert me if they weren’t. So, sorry. No rabies today. But here. Let me patch you up, just in case.”
He laughs at my concern, pulling his hand away. “No need. I’m fine. I only got nipped.”
“Give me your hand, Sebastian.” I take it firmly in mine and peel back the wrapping on the bandage.
“I’ve survived worse wounds than this, believe me.”
“I’m sure that’s true, but I can’t have you bleeding on the dogs, or getting your hand infected.”
Once he’s all patched up, he inspects his hand, flexing his fingers. His gaze shifts from his hand to my face, making me blush. There’s something about his amused, intrigued expression that makes me want to look away. But I hold his stare anyway.
“Did you know you often smell like lavender?”
I blink through the haze of his words. “Lavender?”
“Yes,” he says. “It’s one of my favorite smells.” He turns back to Shadow and unties the dog’s tether on the ground loop, then leads him to the washroom in the back. Just like that. As if commenting on the way I smell—which apparently, is his favorite— was no big deal.
Focus, Romilly.
It hits me for the first time how different working with Bash is going to be than working with Lana. My old bather was always so quiet, so professional. But Bash’s random compliments and the way he openly checks me out like it’s part of the job description isn’t something I’m used to.
This isn’t going to work unless he and I can coexist professionally. I refuse to mix business with pleasure, especially with the state of my business already so fragile.
Without overthinking it, I beeline to the back room where Bash is elbow deep in the tub, washing a now-muzzled Shadow. I almost laugh at the way he’s hunched over like a giant at a miniature sink before I refocus. I place my hands on my hips. “What was that about?”
He looks at me over his shoulder, his brows drawing together. “What was what about?”
“That little comment. About me smelling like lavender.”
“You do smell like lavender. Almost every time I see you.”
I reach around his massive shoulder and shut off the stream of water. “We need to talk about this.”
