Page 19 of Autumn at the Cat Cafe

“Well, now we know for sure Leo isn’t upstairs,” Dora said.

Via froze, her hands still in the soapy water, the faucet still flowing. That wasn’t the only thing running. Her pulse was doing the cha-cha as the door closed behind Leo. She should have been wondering what he was doing here, since her café was the last place she expected he’d want to be. Instead she couldn’t even think straight. He’d changed into a sweatshirt withHarvardemblazoned in huge crimson letters on the front, and perfect-fitting khaki pants. She was tempted to meow herself.

He caught Via’s gaze, the corner of his exquisite mouth lifting ever so slightly.

Birdie gave her a friendly bump with her hip. “You’re staring.”

She jerked her eyes from his, inwardly groaning. This was the second time he’d caught her staring at him. No, the third. There wouldn’t be a fourth. She muttered to Dora, “Find out what he wants.”

“I’m sure he wants you, because he’s heading your way.” She grinned and left, giving Leo a friendly nod as she passed him, totally ignoring Via’s request. And now Birdie was standing next to her, a big smile on her face. Even Sir Meow was in on it—when Leo stopped at the counter, he sat on his left shoe.

Leo glanced down. Moved his foot away from Sir. The cat followed, sat on it again, and meowed.

“Glad to see you upright and looking well, Leo.” At his confused look, Birdie shifted Sir and held out her hand. “Birdie Gunnerson.”

“She helped me get you to the couch,” Via explained.

“Oh,” he said with an appreciative nod. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” When Sir meowed again, Birdie walked to the front of the counter. “I’ve got him,” she said, scooping him up. He immediately squirmed and stretched toward Leo. “I’ll take him to the back and leave you two alone.”

“Birdie—”

But she was already gone.

“Sorry about that,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel and doing everything in her power not to even glimpse him.

“For what?”

“Sir’s behavior.” She almost threw Birdie and Dora into the mix. This was the first time the two of them had ever made such a fuss about a guy before, and it was getting annoying. “He usually isn’t so clingy.”

“Oh.”

His distracted tone had her looking at him again. He was staringat the cat clock on the opposite wall, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. And because customer service was ingrained in her regardless of the customer, she asked, “Can I help you?”

He blinked, then looked at her again. The uncertainty was gone and he was unreadable again. “We need to talk.”

The strong scent of coffee mixed with warm spices had hit Leo when he walked into the café. So did something else. Soft heat from Via’s eyes. It was the only descriptor he could find to explain the way she’d looked at him when he first arrived. He’d seen the same expression when he woke up to her fingers in his hair, and again when he saw her looking at him in Bennett’s office at the start of their meeting. It was triggering some heat of his own.

But he was used to being direct. He didn’t like games, and when he dealt with his clients, he always operated on the premise of being up front and forthright. And any attraction he’d felt for her evaporated as Via’s eyes narrowed at him.

He felt something brush up against his pants leg. A black cat rubbing the side of its face on his calf. The khakis weren’t cheap but not as expensive as his suit either, so he didn’t go ballistic. He was still a little embarrassed by his overreaction in Via’s apartment.

“Luna,” Via said, then made a shooing noise. “Leave him alone.”

Unlike Sir, the cat listened and moved off. Leo glanced up at Via again. Now her arms were crossed. Once again they were getting off to a great start.

“We said everything outside Bennett’s office,” she insisted. “At least I did.”

He wasn’t used to asking for help and he didn’t want to do it now. Once again, Uncle Earl gave him no choice. Still, he’d second-guessed himself twice in the apartment and a third time on the stairwell, thinking if he worked almost around the clock, he’d have the bookstore cleaned up, the ten books found, the apartment in decent order. But he still had the task of learning about Pecan Corner, and while he could do all of that on his own, it was impossible given the time frame. “I...”

Her arms uncrossed, and now she looked a little concerned. “You’re not going to pass out again, are you?”

“No.” A sandwich and two glasses of water wasn’t much of a lunch, but he’d figure out dinner later. He didn’t have much of an appetite anyway. “I need to talk to you about Second Chapter.” Finally.

Her brow quirked. “Really?”

He scanned the foyer. “Can we talk somewhere?”