MatriMoney

By G.G. Woodhouse

More than anything else, Amelia wants to turn her simple dog-walking business into a successful doggy daycare for all of California’s Beverly Hills pups. But her plans come crashing down around her when Betsy — her older sister, her best friend, the only family she has left — announces she has cancer. Now, Amelia’s only goal is to find a way to pay for her sister’s experimental treatment. That’s when Romulus — her eccentric, billionaire client and father to tabloid bad boy Michelangelo — swoops in with a plan Amelia never saw coming.

It’s been smooth sailing in Michelangelo’s life up until now. Fast cars, designer threads, and more models in his bed than he can count. That is, until his father puts his foot down and demands he get serious about taking over the business or get cut off from the cash. And how does he want him to get serious? By marrying their dog walker.

When Romulus promises Amelia a huge payday if she marries his son, she can’t say no. But what can she have in common with a club-hopping, hard-drinking thong model with a superiority complex? They’re about to find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Shorts
• Release date: Sep 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781094422220

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

AMELIA

Another day in Beverly Hills. A breeze rustled through the palm trees overhead, keeping the temperature at a comfortable seventy-five degrees. From a cloudless sky, the sun shone, reflecting off of the windshields of passing Teslas. Birds perched on lampposts, singing their sweet songs.

Which drove my dogs absolutely bonkers.

Settle down, bitches, I said calmly to the literal pack of canines I was walking. Okay, a couple of them were males, but the females were always the most talkative.

We strolled down another picture-perfect street lined with white mansions and manicured lawns. I had to admit, Beverly Hills was pretty sweet. I could never afford to live there, but having it as my workplace wasn’t a bad substitute.

PFFFFFFFFFT!

Martini! I scolded. The long-haired Chihuahua had let loose a loud fart. I couldn’t believe such a noise — let alone smell — could come from a creature that weighed less than my laptop.

What is with her today? I wondered. She hasn’t stopped farting all morning! And not a single poop!

As we continued down the street, I mentally tried to make a diagnosis. I’d spent my college years studying veterinary science long before I began my career as a dog walker. I wondered what Martini’s diet was like. Her owner, Tatiana, always seemed to be carrying her around like a furry accessory. I imagined Martini probably got her paws on a lot of human food, and considering Tatiana was the heiress to a potato chip fortune, it probably wasn’t the healthiest food either. Probably not good for poor Martini’s digestive system.

I’d have to mention something to Tatiana. I had to be careful, though. No one wanted to hear they were failing their pet, and talking to people had never been my strongest skill. Woofs and barks were more my thing.

PFFFFFFFFFT!

"Martini, come on!"

This time, however, Martini came to a stop, squatting in the grass next to the sidewalk to do her business. The other dogs sniffed around her. Martini trembled.

Let’s give the lady some privacy, I said, swatting away the others. Only Gucci had given Martini some space right away. I smiled as he sniffed a fallen palm frond.

Gucci was a bichon frise, and my favorite client. Okay, technically his owner Romulus was my client, the CEO of Dinavolino Cosmetics. But Gucci was so smart, well-behaved, and charming, I liked to pretend he was the boss.

Good boy, Gucci, I cooed. "And only Gucci." He thanked me with a happy bark.

Once Martini had doo-dooed, I took a biodegradable bag out of my fanny pack and scooped it up, then dropped the bag in a nearby trash can.

Nice one, Martini! I sang, giving her a smile. Her little tongue flopped out in a doggy smile.

PFFFFFFFFFT!

Seriously, what did she eat?! An extra-large bean burrito?!

Jeez! You could hear that one all the way in Santa Monica! came a laughing voice.

I looked up to see Jake coming toward me up the street, walking five or six dogs of his own. My heart stopped as our two packs went wild, just like it always did when I saw Jake. I held on tight to the leashes as everyone sniffed each other. Jake gave me a crooked smile.

Hey, I said shyly, feeling my cheeks warm. Jake Gou was my secret crush. Twenty-five might be a teensy bit old for one of those, but I’d never been great with guys.

How’s it going, Amelia? Jake asked, giving me a shy smile that only made his tan and athletic good looks that much more appealing. One of his dogs sat down on my foot. I recognized it as Buster, his friendlist client.

G-good, I stammered. The ones I really like always make me tongue-tied, and Jake was no exception. If I could figure out how to carry on a conversation with him for more than three seconds, I knew he’d realize we were meant for each other. Of course, I’d been telling myself this since we’d first crossed paths eight months ago. And uh… And you?

Also good. He chuckled a little, his dark eyes lingering on mine. Was this regular eye contact for him, or was he flirting? I never knew! Big plans for the weekend?

Hanging with my sister, I said automatically. What I didn’t add was that most weekends looked the same for me: a Saturday hike in Malibu with Betsy followed by a fried seafood dinner at Neptune’s Net. I loved weekends with my sister, but Jake didn’t need to know how bare my social calendar typically was. Neptune’s Net.

Jake nodded. Cool. He stared a moment longer, as if he was waiting for me to say something. My mind remained firmly blank. Well, have fun, then, he said finally. See you around.

See you!

Jake gently tugged his dogs away and continued down the street. Realizing I’d barely taken a breath in the last three minutes, I drank in a giant gulp of air.The dogs looked at me with deserved concern.

Shoot! I realized. I should’ve asked him what he was doing this weekend. Because that’s how a conversation works!

I groaned inwardly. Why am I so terrible with men?

I went on my way in a daze. I always felt like this after seeing Jake. How could I ever get him to go out with me if I couldn’t even talk to him?

PFFFFFFFFFT!

My face broke into a sad smirk as Martini let another one rip. That was my dating life in one sound; I couldn’t have put it better myself.

Section Break

"Gucci! I missed you! How was your walkie, bambino?"

Gucci leapt into the arms of Romulus Dinavolino, his owner. Today, with a gold Versace shirt tucked into tight leather pants and a jewel-encrusted crucifix dangling low on his broad chest, he looked as flashy as ever. His silver hair, slicked back into a man bun, sealed the deal. But, if I had to be honest? He was kinda hot for a guy in his mid-seventies.

Romulus smiled at me through his cropped beard as he stroked Gucci’s fluffy white head. He always loves your walkies, Amelia, he said in his thick Italian accent.

I love them too, I admitted. Gucci’s a good dog.

Romulus chuckled. You probably say that about all the dogs. He put Gucci down and watched him run inside, skittering across the mosaic floor into Romulus’s mansion. "He is a good dog, though, isn’t he? Dio mio, I don’t know what I’d do without him."

He turned back to me, reaching for his wallet.

How’s business, Amelia? You still walking every dog in Beverly Hills?

I couldn’t help but blush a little. Romulus was extremely charming, always saying nice things to me. I didn’t get along with too many humans, but Romulus was so friendly and outgoing, it was hard not to warm up to him.

"Not every dog, I laughed. But business is good. I’ve almost saved up enough to open that doggy daycare I was telling you about."

Doggy daycare! With the toy blocks and the jungle gym? It sounds insane! I love it!

You’re thinking of a daycare for kids, I said, smiling at his crazy imagination. Doggy daycares are actually pretty common. Just places for dogs to play around all day while their owners are at work. I’m hoping to open one here in Beverly Hills sometime next year.

You’re gonna be a big success, Amelia, Romulus said, fixing me with an intense look. "You’re a good businesswoman. Brains, looks, heart — you’ve the whole package, signorina. You’re going to make a zillion dollars one day, guaranteed! He pointed at me seriously. And I know what I’m talking about."

He gestured at the mansion behind us, which was modeled after the Pantheon in Rome, complete with a domed roof and stone columns. I smiled. Romulus was probably just being kind, but his vote of confidence warmed me. I was nervous about taking this next step in my career — opening my own brick and mortar business — but the fact that a billionaire like Romulus believed in me, even if he was a little eccentric, gave me hope. After all, he had founded one of the most successful cosmetics brands in the world.

Romulus took a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet — double what I normally charged for an hour-long dog walk. He always overtipped me, and I’d given up making change for him long ago. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Grazie mille, he said. You’re a good girl, Amelia. I wish my son had your head for business. He suddenly sighed. The boy’s gonna drive me crazy. Always out partying with his Hollywood friends. He should be working so me and Gucci can have the fun!" He threw his hands up.

I didn’t know much about Romulus’s son Michelangelo, only that he was something of a tabloid fixture. He was a professional socialite, basically a male Paris Hilton. Not exactly the kind of person I hung out with.

I’m sure he’ll come around one of these days, I said, trying to comfort my client.

He’s thirty years old! Romulus moaned. He’s running out of days! When will he settle down?

A chime pinged, sending my hand into my pocket for my phone as Romulus reached for his own, drawing out a custom case featuring Gucci’s face. He shouted something in Italian. It definitely sounded like a swear word.

Everything okay? I asked.

It’s my Google alert for Michelangelo, Romulus explained. Apparently, last night he was arrested for skinny-dipping in Silver Lake Reservoir! He shut his eyes tight like he was suffering a migraine. "If his mother was still alive, she would kill him. And then me."

I’m sure everything will be okay, I said, offering a weak smile. Romulus nodded distractedly. I have to go, Rom. Have a nice day!

He sighed. Impossible. Then, with a dramatic turn of his heel, he retreated into the mansion.

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little as I went down the stairs. I felt bad for Romulus, but being in his presence always made me feel like I was an extra in an old Italian epic. The guy lived like a Roman emperor, and he couldn’t have been more of a character.

Done with work for the day, I walked down to my trusty Corolla, parked on a street in front of the mansion. It was Friday, and after I got home to my apartment in Culver City, I had a long night of frozen pizza and Netflix ahead of me. Maybe I’d watch Best in Show for the millionth time. I was obsessed with ’90s movies, and Best in Show was my absolute favorite.

As I got in the car,

Reviews for MatriMoney

[Laurel Steele · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Cute, playful book. I liked it more than I expected.

[Deb Pden · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I loved this funny ,quirky romantic comedy. Good banter and storyline. Bryant Street short stories are great !