Page 21 of Autumn at the Cat Cafe

“She likes her nicknames,” she said. “Last week she christened me Meow Mix. Obviously I’m not cat food, so the names don’t mean anything.”

“She was accurate with mine. Minus the boy part.” He took a sip from his cup. Ah, that hit the spot.

“Proving my point.” Her cheeks turned a soft rosy color.

Which had him wondering... Was she smitten with someone? Or was it just a play on words like she was claiming?

Toffee jumped onto his lap again. When Via started to get up, he waved her off. The cat was already settling into a loaf. “It’s okay.”

Her head tilted, as if she was surprised by his answer. “Let me know if she’s bothering you.”

“Will do,” he said.” Toffee started to purr. “About Second Chapter—”

“Are you keeping it?” she asked in a hopeful tone.

“No. I’m selling.” An idea occurred to him, and he was dumbfounded he hadn’t thought of it earlier. Then again, he hadn’t exactly been on his game since finding out about the inheritance. “Interested in buying it?”

“No.”

The response was immediate. Strange, considering how upset she was about the will and her insistence he didn’t “ruin” the business.

“Why are you still here?” she asked. “You could have gone back to the land of palm trees and superstars by now and handled things from there.”

He knew a deflection when he saw one, so he drank his coffee again, gathering the right words. No need to tell her about Earl’s stipulations. “The shop and apartment need cleaning up.”

“You could hire a company to do that.”

If only. “There might be some valuable books among the hundreds—”

“More like thousands.”

He nearly winced. How was he going to find ten particular books among so many? But he was getting ahead of himself. “I alsofigured it would be best if I went through Earl’s personal effects in his apartment.”

Via paused, not looking so guarded now. “I wanted to do that while the will was in probate. But I only got as far as tackling the fridge.”

So that’s why it was so clean. “Thanks.”

“It wasn’t much. When I tried to finish the kitchen I...” She averted her gaze, her grief palpable.

And although he sympathized, it was the opening he needed. “I could use your help again. I know it’s a big ask, but Bennett said you knew Earl better than anyone.”

Via reached down and picked up the black cat she’d shooed away earlier. She held the animal close to her, almost protectively. Her gaze went to his sweatshirt. “Are you actually a Harvard boy?”

“Undergrad and MBA from Harvard Business School. Summa cum laude.” Geez. Why did he add that last part? He sounded like he was bragging, although he was used to tossing around his bona fides to reassure clients he had the pedigree to manage their multimillion-dollar accounts. Who cared about that in Pecan Corner?

“I thought so.”

Curious, he asked, “Why?”

“Your sweatshirt’s old, for one thing. Not vintage, but it looks well worn. Well loved, even. You’re from California, your car costs a mint, your suit is expensive. It’s easy to connect the dots that you’re Ivy League. What business are you in again?”

Toffee jumped out of his lap. Apparently business conversation bored her. “When did this turn into an inquisition?”

“If I’m going to help you, I need to know more about you.”

He sat back in his chair, surprised she’d agreed so easily. Almost too easily.

As if she read his mind, she said, “I have a vested interest.”