“Funny is good. I like funny.”
“Sweet lady. Not full of herself at all. She works at the glitter factory.”
“Nothing wrong with glitter.”
“Glitter is awesome. I love glitter,” she says.
“You seem like a glitter person.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you like pink,” I answer.
“Pink and glitter go hand in hand?”
“Like dogs and loyalty. Like cats and disdain.”
“Fine,” she says with a grumble. “I like glitter and pink and hammers and blueprints.”
I try to hide a grin, enjoying all the sides of her. “Yes, you do.”
“And one more thing about Maya. She’s a cat person. She has a big orange boy cat named Saul,” January adds as we near the town square.
“Good to know. I can ask to see pictures of him.”
January’s mouth forms an O. Her nose crinkles.
“Wait. I shouldn’t ask to see cat photos?”
January winces. “Yeah . . . I should have led with this. You probably won’t have to ask for photos.” The words come out like an apology.
“Because she’ll show them to me of her own accord?”
Another wince. Another contrite smile. “She’ll bring the cat.”
Blinking, I shake my head. That can’t be possible. But then, maybe it can. “She’s bringing a cat on the date? Is it a therapy cat?”
“No. Well, it’s more like she’s therapy for the cat.”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
“The cat can’t be left alone, so she brings the cat everywhere.”
I stare at her, bug-eyed, then set a hand on her shoulder. “You’re my dating insider. That’s information I should have known a few days ago.”
She cringes, I’m sorry written all over her face. “I should have told you. I literally just remembered. I think I might’ve been trying to block it out of my mind.”
“Yeah. I’d block that out too, but I feel like I’m not going to be able to,” I say as a plaintive meow comes from outside Oscar’s Wine Bar.
Sounds more like a warning bell, an ill omen for my foray into romancing with felines.
Only I wish this walk was the start of a different date.
A date that can’t be.
Because I’d rather be having zucchini noodles right now.
13
Liam
I barely get a word in edgewise.
The second I walk up near the wine bar and spot the cute brunette with the popsicle-blue glasses, she smiles, waves, and says, “Nina warned me.”
“About what?” I ask, taken aback as I grab the seat across from her.
She waggles long fingernails painted with cherry-red stripes. “She told me the new guy in town was honey on a stick, sugar on a stick, a chocolate-covered banana on a stick.”
“Banana?” I file away a mental note to ask January if that’s a good thing.
Maya waves a hand, dismissing that. She points at me, sizing me up. “Nope. That’s wrong. You’re a swirly lollipop. And Nina did not properly warn me about that. Oh sure, she warned me that you’re British, and therefore charming. But that’s understandable, because a woman needs to be warned that she’ll melt on cue with that kind of accent.”
But I’ve barely spoken, I want to say. Instead, I smile and answer with “Reasonable warning indeed. Generally, my countrymen like to give women a heads-up so our accents don’t cause an overabundance of swooning.” Might as well try to live up to the charming part, at least. I nod to the creature in her lap, then scratch his head. The big orange guy lifts his face and stares at me, asking for more. “You must be Maya, and I hear this is your friend, Saul.”
“My friend Saul—please. More like my ball and chain,” she scoffs as I pet his head a little longer. “But yes, I’m Maya, and this cat is my albatross. But it’s nice to meet you, doctor, and I bet any minute Saul will cast a disdainful glare in your direction, because he is a mercurial male cat.”
“Cats can be mercurial,” I say with a smile. I stroke between his ears. “Particularly male cats. Isn’t that right, Saul?”
Her brown eyes pop as I talk to the cat. She cocks her head like she’s listening to him. “Doc,” she whispers, eureka-style. “He’s purring. The devil purrs for no one. The devil doesn’t even purr for me. What is it with this creature?” She slides a hand down his back. “Maybe that’s his way of saying he needed this all along? A moment with a hot British vet at a wine bar. Get in line, pussycat. I want my moment too, dammit.”
I’m not entirely sure that we’re going to have a moment, but Maya is sort of adorable in a manic kind of way.
She also doesn’t seem to need much conversational effort from me, since she’s keeping up the chatter for both of us.
“But I can’t get a break from this cat, who insists on sitting on my lap all the time,” she says, her eyes plaintive, full of worry. I set my hands in my lap as she continues, “If I take him off my lap, he jumps back on. He rubs up against me. He follows me from room to room. And all I want is to spend time with this man who is asking how Saul is and stroking the devil’s chin.”
