“Did you two get into trouble today?”
Yes, I realize I’m talking to my cats, but who else should I talk to? Pascal lets out a sound filled with innocence. I don’t believe it even a little bit.
Cap looks at his feline brother with a look which can only be described as affronted.
I smile at my guys. They bring me so much joy and help when I’m feeling lonely.
It’s not like they could have gotten into any real trouble anyway. Everything is cat-proofed and I already know they spend most of their time on their own personal level of the cat tree. It’s their place. And there have been battles over territory on the damn cat tree more than once.
The worst days of my life have involved Cap icing out Pascal and my emotional kitten just couldn’t take it. You haven’t lived until you watch a cat looking more pitiful than those unavoidable animal rescue commercials. But this cat is warm, cared for, fed, and has fresh litter. His brother was simply ignoring him.
Think, emotional zombie apocalypse level drama.
After taking off my bra, I just take a moment to enjoy the feeling. Holy shit. Is there anything better? I just don’t think so.
Cap watches me closely from his perch on the aforementioned cat tree. “Cindy invited me out for drinks again,” I inform him while getting things set up to try out the binkie dick mold. While they’re setting, I can start packing up for the convention tomorrow.
I’ve never made more dragon eggs than I have while getting ready for this convention. But could I do anything less for a fantasy con? Hell no.
I’ll be surprised if I don’t sell out. I mean, I hope I do.
I did last year and could have sold more. This year I think I planned accordingly. Maybe.
Probably.
I just never know. One thing I didn’t get to do was update my signage. I wish I had the time and the budget, but it’s just not possible. Maybe if this weekend goes well.
What most people don’t consider is that when the price of goods fluctuate, then my overhead changes. Making chocolate treats can’t sustain me and my bills considering there have been events where I haven’t broken even.
And everything for an event is money I have to pay up front. From the event fee. To the ingredients. To the time and electricity. To keeping up with making sure everything is above board and I can legally sell what I make.
I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought about throwing in the towel and giving it up. But the thought of not making my treats makes me want to cry.
Even if my dream is never more than this.
Even if no one else understands why it matters to me.
As long as people buy my treats and love them, I’m going to keep going and trying.
“It’s all you can do. Right, Pascal?”
I glance over my shoulder to where Pascal, an orange tabby, is laying on his back on his ledge. It looks like he splat there after falling from a great height. What isn’t helping is the way his tongue is lolling out of the side of his mouth.
Pascal lets out a lazy meow which must mean he agrees with me.
“Exactly,” I encourage him and I swear Cap looks utterly confused about the whole thing.
I can’t blame him. It’s not like the cats were privy to my inner monologue.
“But we need to stay on track tonight. After packing up, I need to eat something and then go to bed. It’ll be an early wake-up tomorrow.” Cap makes a sound of disbelief, and I stick my tongue out at him while wiping down my counter. “You’re right. I’ll sleep after reading in bed. I didn’t think it needed to be said.”
Cap looks satisfied as hell and I keep chatting with him and his feline brother until we snuggle into bed and I finally fall asleep, a ball of anxiety and excitement. Hopefully tomorrow will be a success.
CHAPTER 2
JOSS
“I think we’re going to have to oil him down again,” the photographer whispers out of the corner of his mouth.
