“What the fuck is that?” he shouted as Gizzy plodded into the ballroom.
“It’s not—”
“Stay back, Lexi,” he barked at me, muscular back still pressing into my face. “Call animal control while I distract it. It’sprobably one of those neighbors downstairs. I bet they brought this back with them. They eat all sorts of weird food.”
“That’s not dinner,” I insisted, trying to pry my way out from under his muscular bicep. “That’s Gizzy.”
“You brought your iguana to my house?”
“He was just supposed to stay in your steam shower.”
My boss blinked.
“You have him in my bathroom? We’re all going to get salmonella.”
“Oh, stop being such a baby. Gizzy sleeps with me every night. He’s perfectly healthy.”
“You are horrifying.”
Gizzy had made quick work of the cheese and salami on the floor and was eyeing what was left of the cupcake in my hand.
I handed it to him.
“Not the wrapper,” I scolded as Gizzy mouthed the cupcake.
Then the lizard turned, tail whipping, and held his head up, the dewlap under his throat flexing as he focused on Grayson.
Then he sprinted.
People not native to Florida see big lumbering iguanas and think they can outrun them.
You can’t. Iguanas are fast.
Grayson cursed as the huge, five-foot-long lizard sprinted at him.
Instead of running away, Grayson readied himself for a fight, the muscles in his chest bunched up, veins prominent.
“He just wants to lick the frosting on you. Also, sorry about that,” I said, racing after Gizzy. His tongue was darting out as he rose up on two legs to try to get the last of his snack.
I pushed myself in front of Gizzy to keep him from clawing Grayson. I knew from experience iguana scratches hurt.
Gizzy tried to climb over me, the force of him pushing me against Grayson’s chest.
My boss’s breath caught as I balanced my hands on him, the muscles rippling under my fingers. I was not thinking wholesome Disney thoughts.
I swallowed as Grayson inadvertently put one large hand on my waist to steady me.
“You look really tasty covered in frosting,” I said.
Jiminy Crickets, Lexi, can you keep something to yourself?
“I what?”
“No need to thank me for the compliment,” I said, the tail end of the sentence a barely intelligible squeak.
Then I grabbed Gizzy and my bag and raced out of there before I could do something that would really get me fired.
16
