Page 62 of Between the Lines

“Is she going to be okay?” I glance at Daisy.

“She has a mild ear infection. It should be cleared up in a few days. Daisy is a tough girl.” She kisses her cheek. “By the way, I will probably have to take off tomorrow. I know Fridays are busy, but I checked with Halle and they should be fine without me.”

“I trust you.” I pause and nod towards Daisy. “This is more important.”

It didn’t even cross my mind that she would be away from Good Grinds.

“Oh—are those for me?” Fia changes the subject, eyeing the three tubs of ice cream sweating in the bag on the counter between us.

“Yes.” I lightly shove them closer to her. “I realize now that was stupid, because you’re not the sick one. But ice cream helps everyone.”

I shrug like a clueless idiot.

Fia lets out a tiny laugh, propping Daisy on her hip as she opens the freezer, placing the pints inside. Then she looks at me over her shoulder. “How did you know my favorite flavor was Moose Tracks?”

My brows shoot up. “I literally just grabbed three that I thought you would like.”

“Hmm.” She considers, watching me closely before Daisy starts to squirm. “Well I didn’t eat dinner, so I’ll be killing one of those pints tonight.”

I don’t want to leave, but I know I should. Instead I look towards the corner of the living room.

“The TV working okay for you? You’re the first person to use it.”

Fia hesitates. “It is . . . but I can’t get the sound bar to connect these last few days. I’m sure I’m just doing something wrong.” She rolls her eyes. “But hey, I’m going to get this one to sleep now.”

“Yeah, of course.” I offer a small wave with my fingers. “Feel better, Daisy.”

Fia smiles in response then disappears into the bedroom, nudging the door shut behind her. She obviously needs to decompress, I should leave her be.

I grab the cash off the counter and slip it into my pocket, but then the TV glares at me. I can probably just fix the sound bar for her real quick—it’s not like I have anywhere else to be tonight. Then I’ll head out. After all, I need to make sure everything is in working order. I do own this place—it’s the responsible thing to do.

“It’ll just take a moment . . .” I grumble to myself, kneeling in front of the TV. “Four minutes tops.”

Am I losing my mind?

As I crane my neck to look at the inputs on the back of the flat-screen, I sense two eyes boring into my soul. It takes everything in me not to fucking scream when I see her damn cat on the edge of the sofa, inches from my face.

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with,” I tell him. “You’d save me from making these reckless decisions.”

No matter how many times I remind myself that I’m her boss and she’s my manager and that starting anything with her would put everything in jeopardy, I somehow keep showing up. Here. In her personal life.

What if we dated and it ended horribly—because all of my relationships have thus far. She’d probably quit, slander my name online, and my business would suffer. My father would have something else to hold over me, though I’m beginning to wonder why the fuck I let that even bother me.

I don’t want to let it bother me.

Meow!

“Jesus!” I nearly jump out of my skin as the cat leaps onto the TV stand in front of my face, inspecting what I’m doing. Hamburger blocks me from reconnecting anything. I’m not going to risk picking him up and moving him, but I’m sure as hell not going to leave the TV like this.

I can already imagine my text to Fia . . . Hey, I tried to fix your TV, but your nine-pound cat blocked me, and I’m terrified of it, so sorry, you’re shit out of luck.

“Dude, you have to move.” I pat the side of the sofa, trying to get it to follow my movements without creating a ton of noise.

He glares, his little paws tucked up under his body.

This is why I prefer dogs.

They are too eager to please or maybe too dumb. But cats seem to have an evil plan always brewing behind their shifty eyes.