“There’s a fly in my Evian,” my cat complained with a keening mewl. His face looked utterly scandalized as he leaned in close to the camera.
“Oh, you poor thing,” I cooed while rolling my eyes just out of his view. Octo-Cat was definitely too spoiled for his own good sometimes, but then again, I received a five-thousand-dollar monthly allowance for his care, so I really couldn’t complain too much.
“My thoughts exactly,” he answered with a grimace and a sigh. “I need you to come home immediately to rectify this situation.”
“I can’t. I’m at work,” I reminded him with a beleaguered sigh of my own while clicking through my overfull email inbox idly.
Octo-Cat growled when he noticed he didn’t have my full attention. “I thought you were supposed to only be going part-time now?”
Why was I constantly explaining my life choices to a cat? He rarely remembered what I told him, anyway. We’d had this exact same conversation about my work at least three times already. Rehashing it now felt like the ultimate exercise in futility.
Still, it was easier to explain yet again than to deal with one of his hissy fits.
“Yes, technically I am part-time,” I explained patiently. “But I need to help out extra until Thompson finally hires a new partner. It’s been really busy around here, and unfortunately I just don’t have time to stop home and pour you a new cup of water right now. I’m sorry.”
His eyes narrowed, ready to go to war over such a simple thing. “But don’t you receive a generous monthly stipend to ensure I’m cared for in the manner to which I am accustomed? Because I most definitely am not accustomed to having a wiggly-legged fly swimming in my Evian.”
Once again, it was easier to cave than it was to argue for hours or days on end. “Aargh, fine. I’ll send Nan by to pour you some more water. Happy?”
He yawned, which only annoyed me more. “Not exactly. It will take me days to recover from this horrible event. Could you make sure Nan knows she needs to throw out the contaminated cup?”
“You are a cat,” I said between clenched teeth. “You are supposed to be a fearsome hunter, not a spoiled baby. You know, other cats even—”
“Angie?” a deep, dreamy voice broke into the middle of our conversation.
Oh, no, no, no. Everyone was supposed to be gone!
I spun around in my chair to find none other than Charles Longfellow, III standing behind me and gawking over my shoulder at the image of Octo-Cat on my phone screen.
“Um, hi, Charles.” I tittered nervously as I pushed the button to end our call, but it was too late. He’d already heard and seen more than enough to figure out my secret. The best I could hope for now is that he would think one or both of us had gone crazy.
I took it as a good sign that he stood looking at me as if I’d sprouted a second head. Perhaps that would have been less strange than what he’d really walked in on.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, raising one thick eyebrow in my direction. The air suddenly felt impossibly thin like the office had been transported to the top of the nearest mountain.
I nodded, desperate for Charles to go away and stop questioning me. “Perfectly all right. Thanks,” I lied, wishing I’d inherited Nan’s legendary acting skills. As it was, I could tell my colleague wasn’t fooled by my feeble attempts to downplay the situation.
Sure enough, his voice dripped with sarcasm as he said, “Really? Because it seemed like your cat needed some help with his…” A delicious smile crept across his face, stretching from one high cheek bone to the next. “Evian? Is that right?”
My mouth fell open from shock, but no additional words came out to explain away the freak show my crush had just witnessed.
“Well?” he prompted, widening his eyes at me. “Were you or were you not just having a conversation with your cat?”
I tucked my hair behind my ears and swallowed hard before stumbling over my answer. “Um, I call him sometimes when I’m away. He has separation anxiety so…” I gave him my most ingratiating smile, but it didn’t seem to work. I was seriously outmatched here.
“But it sounded like maybe he was talking back to you,” Charles insisted. “Like you were having an actual conversation with each other.”
I blinked hard as I stammered, “What? No, don’t be silly. Of course I can’t talk to animals. I mean, who can?”
“You, apparently,” Charles said, narrowing his gaze at me. Clearly he wasn’t going to let me off the hook until I revealed the one thing I most wanted to hide.
I swallowed the giant lump that had become lodged in my throat, then broke out in hysterical laughter. “Gotcha! I can’t believe you fell for my little office prank.”
Charles shoved both hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels, but didn’t say anything.
Oh my gosh. Why wasn’t he saying anything?
My heart galloped like a wild stallion as my nervous laughter fell away.
Charles studied me for a long time, and stupidly I couldn’t bring myself to look away. “You’re coming with me,” he said.
“What?” I crossed my arms over my chest in defiance. “No. I have too much work to catch up on here.”
He placed his palms on my desk and leaned down so our faces were only a few inches apart. Given pretty much any other circumstance, I’d have enjoyed having his gorgeous face so near to mine.
As it was now, though? I was absolutely terrified.
“You’re coming with me,” he repeated with a devilish grin. “Unless you want me to tell everyone what I saw.”
I gulped. “Everyone?”
“Everyone,” he confirmed before returning to his full height and straightening his tie.
Completely bewildered and unable to see any practical alternative, I rose to join Charles.
“Excellent,” he said, leading me to the door and motioning for me to go through it.
I turned back to study him. “Where are we going?”
“My place,” he answered coolly as we strode through the parking lot toward his car. Charles had never invited me anywhere before, especially not his apartment. Unfortunately, something told me I wouldn’t like what was waiting for me there one bit.
Chapter Two
About five minutes after leaving the office, Charles and I pulled up to the Cliffside apartment complex. I was surprised to find that he lived in the budget apartments rather than the nicer condos on the other side of town. Normally, Cliffside was for newly graduated students or those who were otherwise just passing through.
As an attorney, Charles could easily afford somewhere nicer—and safer, too. Crime rarely occurred in Glendale, but when it did, nine times out of ten it happened here. As a criminal defense attorney, perhaps he wanted to be closer to his client base. Still, most of the crimes our firm dealt with fell under the category of white-collar crime. With its stained carpeting and peeling paint, Cliffside was anything but white collar.
Did Charles living here mean he wasn’t planning on making Blueberry Bay his long-term home? Was he just passing through like so many of the others who lived in this run-down cluster of buildings?
Even though he was kind of blackmailing me, I hoped he’d stick around a bit more permanently. Despite everything, I still liked him and preferred his company to the others at the firm. Lately, Bethany and I had formed a tentative friendship, but we often found it hard to relate to one another. We just came from two very different worlds.
Despite his fancy name, perhaps Charles and I weren’t so different, after all. No, I hadn’t grown up poor, but Nan had raised me to be humble even as others were showering me with praise. Her mantra had always been that the stage was for stars, and real life was for real people.