Page 90 of Autumn at the Cat Cafe

She let it fall open and shuffled back to the couch. “What are you doing here?” she asked, then plopped face down on the purple plaid seat.

He shut the door. “You look revolting, by the way.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said, her voice muffled. Then she felt her brother pick her up around the waist and set her upright. “Hey,” she said when he set her down. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I refuse to talk to your behind, Via.” He glanced at the papasan, seemingly making a mental comparison of his weight to the sturdiness, and chose the only other seat in the room—a white armchair that looked out of place in the colorful palette. “Mom’s worried. Dad would be worried, but he usually takes a while to get there, and Dora looks like she knows something but is clamming up.” He crossed his ankle over his knee. “Where’s Leo?”

She blinked. “I thought you were here to check on me?”

“I am. The road goes through him.”

She leaned her head on the back of the couch as Squeaks curled up in Fergus’s lap. Now she had two cat traitors. “Dora alreadyknows what happened. I’m never telling Mom and Dad. There, the family’s covered.”

Fergus’s lips pressed together so tightly they disappeared in his beard. “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing, Ferg. This was all my fault.” She threw her arm over her eyes. “I’m a screwup.”

“So you’re going to feel sorry for yourself for the next three years again?”

Via sat up. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been beating yourself up over that jerk, Trevor, this whole time.” He shrugged.

“I have not!” She perched on the edge of the couch cushion. “I moved home. I started my own business.” She lifted her chin. “I’m thinking about running for mayor next year.”

His brows shot up. “Really?”

“No.” She slumped. “I could only think of two accomplishments.”

“Via.” Fergus sounded more sympathetic than she’d ever heard him. Weird. “Trevor did you a favor.”

“He broke my heart!” She hadn’t said that out loud to anyone—not even Dora. Or her mother. “I loved him.”

“Pfft.” Fergus scratched Squeaks’s chin. Via could hear her purring from across the room. “You were in love with the idea of love. Or some kind of thing where you thought you had to get married. I don’t know—that whole relationship never made sense to me.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?” She glared at him. “At least warned me, if you were so clairvoyant.”

“Would you have listened to me? Or anyone else? You deserve more than a snotty history professor who thinks he’s God’s gift to the universe.”

“I didn’t know.” She folded her hands in her lap. “No one said anything.”

“Because we didn’t want to compound the hurt. And sometimes you gotta learn things the hard way.”

Via met her brother’s eyes. This was a side of Fergus she’d never seen before. It wasn’t just an act. He really was the overprotective brother. Right now she needed his overprotection.

“So,” he said, putting Squeaks down on the floor, then leaning his elbows on his knees. “Where’s Leo?”

She side-eyed him. “You’re not going to beat him up, are you?”

“Depends.”

“Fergus!” She blew out a breath and told him everything.

“Geez, Via.” Fergus shook his head. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” She threw her hands up in the air. “I didn’t trust him. And it wasn’t fair to him. Dora reminded me he wasn’t Trevor.”

“He’s totally not Trevor,” Fergus said.