Page 29 of The One You Want

Chapter 7

Ispent the entire day before the Libbies meeting feeling sick to my stomach. I knew it was stupid—the vast majority of the Libbies members had been nothing but nice to me since I started attending a year ago. There was no reason to think they were going to turn on metonight.

Besides, I had several bottles of champagne stashed in my crates of supplies—if all else failed, I would just ply them withmimosas.

But no matter how many times I assured myself it would be fine, I couldn’t shake the way dread curled in my stomach. The thought of standing in front of a whole room ofpeople…

“Stop it,” I muttered, pulling another box of beads from the shelf in my craft room. “You’re being ridiculous. You can dothis.”

“Are you talking to yourbeads?”

I gasped, spinning around to see Grant leaning on the doorjamb, smirking at me. “You gave me such a hard time about the flowers and here you are, talking to inanimate objects. At least flowers are living things,Jenny.”

“How in the hell did you get in myapartment?”

“The door was wide open. There is literally a crate of orange juice holding itopen.”

“Because I’m bringing stuff outside,” I said, pointing at the boxes around myfeet.

“I know,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Why do you think I’mhere?”

“Apparently you’re here to give me a hard time,” I shot back, and he laughed, pushing himself off thedoorjamb.

“Come on,” he said, picking up one of the boxes. “I have my flower cart downstairs—it will carry a lot more than your wagon. Should make getting all this stuff over to Libbieseasier.”

Before I could stammer out a response to such a kind gesture, he was already carrying the box down thehallway.

“You really don’t have to,” I began but he stopped in the living room, frowning at the closed guest roomdoor.

“What is thatscreeching?”

I sighed. “That would be the cats. I put them in their bedroom so I wouldn’t have to worry about them getting out while I was bringing stuff down and their majesties are notpleased.”

“Hang on.” He set his box down. “Did you say theirbedroom?”

“Yes.”

“Your cats have their ownbedroom.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t see how insane that sentenceis?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You clearly haven’t met these cats yet. I’m pretty sure they’re actually evil. They rule the entire condo. They’d rule the entire island if I let them roam free. They’re fascist dictators in furry littlebodies.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need to see this.” Before I could stop him, he had kicked shut the front door and was heading to theirroom.

“Grant, no!” I called, too late. He was already opening the door. I squeezed my eyes closed, imagining scenes of blood and destruction. His pant legs torn up. Kitty claws digging into hisface.

Instead, I heard a sound that rarely occurred in this house. They werepurring.

I opened my eyes to see Grant standing in the doorway to their room, three cats circling his legs, rubbing up against his jeans, all of them meowing loudly. He looked at me over his shoulder. “Yeah, Jenny. They definitely seem realevil.”

I glared at Lady, who looked up at me with what I was sure was a smirk. Could cats smirk? She was definitelysmirking.

Grant picked up Ernie, letting him cuddle into his neck, and I could hear the rumbling purring noise fromhere.

“Are you freaking kidding me rightnow?”