Jet pulled the decade-old, black Ford F-150 that had belonged to EJ into the driveway of the client’s address. He worked for At Your Service—a company that hired out workers for a variety of tasks ranging from handyman work to landscape design. There was even an escort division. Ms. Viola Ross—the co-owner of At Your Service—was the mother of Montez Ross and the aunt of Drevon Ross—his two childhood best friends.

He was taking over the project from a project manager who’d fallen and injured his hip.

Jet retrieved his company iPad from the center console. He pulled up the work order form and began making notes.

The cute little all-white cottage had a brick facade and a sizable lot. The front lawn was large, but the bulk of the lot was at the side and the back of the property.

The house itself was appealing and well maintained. It’d probably had a few renovations in the sixty or seventy years since the houses in that subdivision had been built. But the driveway and the walkway leading up to the front door were cracked and spilling with grass and weeds attempting to reclaim the hardscape.

The house was at the end of a cul-de-sac and boasted a gorgeous natural border of maple, birch, hickory, and cedar trees that provided lots of shade.

Jet reached into his pocket and produced two bacon-flavored treats for Rocky. The dog barked excitedly, eagerly accepting the piece offered to him while eyeing the one Jet held on to.

“You’ll get this one if you can sit in the car for about ten minutes while I tour the property and talk to the homeowner. Next stop will be the park, I promise.”

Rocky didn’t seem happy about the wait. But he nibbled quietly on the treat he’d procured and stayed parked in place as Jet got out of the car and headed for the front door. He made only the slightest whimper.

Still, Jet couldn’t help feeling guilty. He’d get in, get the information he needed, and get out as quickly as he could. Then he’d take Rocky to the dog park and let him run for half an hour or so before he headed off to check on a few At Your Service landscaping jobsites.

Jet followed the cracked walkway to the front porch of the cottage. He rang the doorbell and waited. There was no answer, but a red Genesis G-70 was parked in the driveway. This time, Jet knocked.

“I’ll be right there!” a voice called from the basement. A few minutes later, the locks turned, and the door swung open. “I’m sorry for the wait. I was downstairs. Have you been here long? I—”

“Mye?” Jet stared at the woman standing in the doorway. She was even more gorgeous than she’d been in high school and just as curvy.

The fitted white tank top hugged her full breasts and revealed a healthy dose of skin. The black retro shorts with a tiny inseam and vintage white trim showed off her smooth, russet-brown skin and deliciously thick thighs.

She studied him with those inquisitive chocolate-brown eyes he could never forget.

“Jet Thomas?” A hand instantly went to her hair, pulled atop her head in a pineapple and wrapped with a black silk scarf. She cleared her throat. “You’re my new landscape guy?”

“It appears so.” He flashed a quick grin, hoping she wouldn’t hold their past against him. “The paperwork says Maya Peters. So I—”

“Peters is… was my married name,” she explained, momentarily dropping her gaze. “I’ve been divorced for nearly two years. I’ve gone back to using my maiden name, but I have a ton of checks in the name Amaya Peters.” She sounded apologetic. “But I did spell out my full first name. I guess Ron, the older guy who was here originally, missed that first A, and I just didn’t notice. Is that a problem?”

Jet stared at her blankly, still in disbelief that he was standing in Amaya Walker’s house. They hadn’t seen each other since high school graduation eighteen years ago. And there were so many things he wanted to say to her.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have an important meeting in an hour,” Amaya said, shaking him from his daze. “I know that I’d already agreed to the plans Ron presented, and we’ve already moved forward with getting the permits, but the more I’ve looked them over, I’m not quite sold on them, to be honest.”

“You’re thinking of scrapping the project?” Jet asked.

“Not if you can come up with something better,” she said. “Can I show you the space?”

“Please.” Jet pulled his digital pencil from the pen loop on his iPad case. “I’ve already seen the front yard, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on what you’d like to achieve with this landscape design.”

“But you’re the landscaping professional.” She frowned. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.” Jet grinned. “But if you’re not satisfied with the current plans, I want to ensure that the concept I draft is your dream landscape design. Something you’ll be satisfied with for years to come. So pretend we’re starting from scratch.”

Jet turned to face the front yard, and Maya stepped out onto the porch to join him. She studied the space, too, as if with new eyes.

“There are a dozen different ways we can go with this design,” he said. “But the more I know about what it is you really want and what you find aesthetically pleasing, the easier it’ll be for me to design a few options that feel perfect for you.”

“I take that approach with my clients, too.”

“Cool.” Jet turned to his former classmate and tutor. He tried to focus on her eyes rather than the pouty, full, soft-looking lips that he’d found so mesmerizing as he sat across from her in the school library while she tried to explain quadratic equations and exponential expressions.

Amaya had been a wiz at both math and science. And she was the class valedictorian that year. What she hadn’t been was popular. She was a loner, and she seemed to like it that way. Which was why he’d been surprised that they’d hit it off so well. That he’d genuinely liked her. And that he’d been deeply attracted to the girl so many of his classmates had ridiculed for being odd, antisocial, a fashion disaster, and chubby.

It turned his stomach to think of all the times he’d heard his high school friends talk shit about Maya. She’d been a better person than any of them. Kind. Thoughtful. Curious. Genuinely interested in other people. Incredibly beautiful. And yes, she’d been a bit awkward socially. But once she’d gotten to know him, she’d opened up to him, and he’d discovered how much they had in common and that he enjoyed spending time with her.

“So you said you have clients,” Jet said after a long pause. “What business are you in?”

“I’m the executive creative director for Indigo Peach Records.”

Great. She was a record exec and he was the guy she’d called in to do her lawn. Maybe his parents were right about him being a disappointment after all.

DATE FOR HIRE and the Men for Hire series now available here: https://www.reeseryan.com/book/date-for-hire/