This was too much. “You can’t tip me four hundred and forty dollars.”

“They’re not dollars. They’re euros.”

“You know what I mean,” I said in frustration. “You can’t tip me that much.”

“Why not?” He seemed genuinely puzzled.

“It’s extravagant and, I don’t know, kind of . . . demeaning.”

“Or it’s incredibly generous.” Now he was starting to sound annoyed.

I handed the bill back to him. “You can just Venmo me or something.”

“I don’t have any apps on my phone.”

“You don’t . . .” I was dumbfounded. “What do you have on it?”

“An actual phone. Email. Sometimes I text,” he said defensively. “My fingers are big and those screens are small. It’s annoying. Besides, I’ve never been much into social media.”

That at least I understood. “Me neither.”

“I know.”

My lower jaw dropped slightly. “How do you know that?”

But he didn’t answer. He went back into his wallet and pulled out a different bill. “The smallest denomination I have is a hundred euros.”

“You say that like I’m being the unreasonable one. I’m not the one trying to pay for services rendered with Monopoly money.” That got me a half smile, and my heart fluttered happily in response. Uh-oh. Time for me to go.

“Consider it hazard pay for coming over so late.”

Nodding, I took the hundred euros, and even though it was definitely too much, I didn’t want to prolong this whole encounter. “Okay, well, I should get going. Thanks for the opportunity. Magnus is a great dog. Enjoy your interview tomorrow.”

“Wait.” His hand was on my arm, and it was like being pumped full of thousands of volts of electricity all at once. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

“Oh?” My voice actually squeaked.

He took one step closer. “So, about the other night. When we met.”

My brain rushed in to say something, to change the subject from wherever this was going. “Why did you call me to take care of Magnus? There are a thousand other mobile groomers in LA that you could have called.”

He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Most people in my life want something from me. Or they are blinded by my fame and treat me differently. You didn’t. And I realized I could trust you.”

“How?”

“When the story of us meeting didn’t show up in a tabloid or on a website or splashed all over Twitter.”

“Why would it?” Don’t get me wrong, I loved gossip as much as the next girl, but what would that headline be? SEAT FILLER BICKERS WITH AND PUTS DOWN INTERNATIONALLY BELOVED SUPERSTAR? I didn’t need that kind of backlash from the Noah Douglas Hive in my life, thanks.

“You’d be surprised.”

Somehow he moved even closer, and my heart beat so fast in my chest that it hurt.