The defeat in her voice guts me.
“I don’t think that’s true,” I say firmly. “There’s always a way. I know it feels bleak right now, but there is a way, Tessa. I may not own half a city, but I have money and connections too. Andmore importantly, I have people—a whole team of them—who will make sure you’re protected.”
She looks at me then, really looks at me, and I see the question in her eyes.Why are you doing this?
I don’t have a good answer. Not one that makes sense anyway.
Just then, my smushed-face orange hairball pads into the room. Beatrice spots Tessa immediately, pauses to assess the situation with her typical feline judgment, then walks straight over and rubs her plump body against Tessa’s leg.
A smile breaks across Tessa’s face—the first real one I’ve seen all night. “Hey there, cutie,” she murmurs, reaching down to scratch the top of Beatrice’s neck.
The cat starts purring so loudly I can hear it from across the couch.
I stare, stunned.
“You are so cute,” Tessa says, her voice soft and warm as she scratches under Beatrice’s chin. The purring intensifies.
Beatrice hops up onto the couch and climbs straight into Tessa’s lap, circling once before settling in with a contented sigh.
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s unbelievable.”
Tessa looks from the cat to me, confused. “What is?”
“The fact that she’s letting you pet her or the fact that she came out at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Normally, when I have company, she hides until they’re gone. She’s only ever liked me.” I lean forward, watching as Beatrice kneads Tessa’s thigh with her paws, purring like a motorboat. “Seriously. She hates everyone.”
“Well,” Tessa says softly, the smile still lingering on her face as she strokes Beatrice’s fur, “that’s just because she’s never met me.”
The genuine warmth in her expression, the way her shoulders have finally relaxed, the softness in her voice—it twists something deep in my chest.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, unable to look away. “I guess so.”
“She’s so cute,” Tessa adds, her fingers gently scratching behind Beatrice’s ears.
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “And she knows it. She’s quite the little diva.”
“As she should be,” Tessa says to Beatrice in that soft, singsong voice people only use when they’re talking to animals. “You’re a queen, aren’t you? Yes, you are.”
Beatrice responds by purring even louder and pressing her head into Tessa’s palm.
I sit back, watching them, and something settles in my chest.
She’s safe.
For tonight, at least, she’s safe.
I clear my throat and shift forward on the couch. “Look,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, “I know we have a lot to figure out, and we’re not going to figure it all out tonight. But there are a few things I want to make sure you know.”
“Okay.” Tessa glances up from where she’s been absently stroking Beatrice’s fur.
“I know I’ve been flirting with you at the coffee shop,” I continue, meeting her eyes, “but I didn’t bring you here expecting anything from you. And I feel silly even saying that, but I just want to make sure you know.”
She nods, her fingers still moving through the cat’s orange fur. “I know that.”
“You know that?” I lift a brow, genuinely surprised. “I thought you weren’t sure whether you could trust me.”
