Or eats.
“I can’t wait to start our date,” she says with a soft smile.
Hannah elbows me in the ribs. Hard.
“Me, too,” I manage, mentally chanting my new mantra.
Fifty.
Thousand.
Dollars.
For a damn good cause.
Her face brightens even more. “Do you like cats?” she asks, all dreamy and hopeful.
“Not as much as you,” I reply.
She beams. Absolutely delighted.
I swallow a groan.
She squeezes my bicep. “Oh, my. Aren’t you just the Man of Steel.”
My eyes fly to Hannah. Help me.
Hannah’s shoulders begin shaking as she stifles her laughter. To the point of tears.
“Don’t you worry,” the woman croons. “I’ll take very good care of you.” Her voice goes soft and wobbly, like she’s talking to a toddler seconds away from shoving a fork into an electrical socket.
I don’t need a fork. Really. Just an outlet and my tongue would do nicely right about now.
She clings closer. My skin starts to itch. “Well?” she asks brightly. “Shall we go?”
“Go?”
“For our date, silly.” She hooks onto my arm like a python around a rabbit. “If you’re cold, I have an extra sweater in my bag.”
The bag that screams tuna chips and pooper scooper. I lift a hand. “I’m good.”
I flick my glare straight to Hannah.
She doesn’t miss a beat. “You two have fun. There’s a car waiting for you outside.”
Before I can form a protest, Nana Bernadette latches on and starts hauling me forward with alarming strength.
Outside, a sleek black car idles at the curb. The driver glances at me, judgment clear in his eyes.
But he does not get out.
Bernadette looks up at me expectantly.
I sigh and open her door.
She slides in with a pleased little hum, like she’s already picked out our future curtains. “Such a gentleman. Hurry and get in.” She pats the seat beside her.
I briefly consider crawling into the trunk.
