But yeah, that wasn’t the way this game was played.
Point, psychic.
Roxie reached out to pet the cat’s head.If her hand shook a bit, it couldn’t be helped.“Did you have her fixed?”
Ingrid frowned.“It was required by the shelter.”
Roxie nodded and lifted her chin.“Get her a kitten.She needs a family.”
* * * * *
“You chose the right name when you called that bar ‘The Ruckus’,” the caller said with a chuckle.“Is there anything else you’d like our listeners to know?”
Roxie had the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder.“Tell them to come visit.It’s even wilder on the inside.”
She sorted through the paperwork on her desk, trying to find the week’s liquor invoice.
“And the billboard?”
“Come judge if you think it’s a good likeness.”
The DJ on the line laughed.“The face or the décolletage?”
Nice save, Roxie thought.“I’m the whole package, sweetie.”
“Ooo la la!Are you saying they’re real?”
“Don’t insult me.”Aha!The invoice.She ran her pen down the list.She knew she’d been shorted a bottle of rum.
“That publicity stunt the other day got a little out of hand.Stopped cars.Reported flashing.Can you tell us if you’re facing charges?”
“No comment,” she murmured.
“Do you have anything else planned?”
She didn’t have to.Her phone had been ringing off the hook, and a television reporter had been waiting when she’d returned from lunch.“You’ll have to wait and see,” she teased.
She suffered through more flirtation before the disk jockey finally let her off the line.Hanging up, Roxie rubbed her neck.She’d developed the worst crick.Radio stations, news stations, and even a blogger had called for interviews.The attention was good.A small business couldn’t pass up free advertising.
She just couldn’t concentrate.
She rubbed her eyes and tried again to find the rum purchase on the paper in front of her.It was early and The Ruckus wasn’t yet as busy as it had been the night before.Good thing, because she was still discombobulated by what had happened in that fortune teller’s shop.
She’d thought she’d developed a pretty stoic poker face over the years, although sometimes her temper got the best of her.And her frustration… and her hurt…
Okay, she had tells, damn it.The woman had read her like a pro.
But what about that creepy cat?
The cute, cuddly, lovable cat who seemed to have its own Wiccan ways.
She’d never heard of anyone being able to train a cat before.As much as she didn’t like the species, she did like their attitude.And she’d liked that cat…
Rescues.
Her chest squeezed so hard, she nearly wheezed.It was that word.That diabolical con woman had used it to get to her and, boy, had it hit its mark.
Raking her hair back with both hands, Roxie stood up from her desk.She was getting nowhere with the bills and inventory, and she just didn’t have it in her to be flirty for one more phone call.She flexed her toes, but then stuffed them into the painful boots she’d discarded under her desk.She really needed to do something about her footwear.
