Ugh. Talking with Alex is a terrible idea, but I do want him to help me find a home for Petey.
Me: I can meet you after work, but I can’t stay long.
Alex: Text me when you’re off.
By the time I'm done texting with Alex, my stalker is done with the form.
I pick it up from the counter and glance at his name. Theo Bolero.
Bolero. Why do I know that name?
He lives on the East Side in those fancy apartments.
“Belinda will need to make a copy of your driver’s license.”
“Lot of trouble for a pussycat.”
My cheeks redden at his stupid innuendos.
“We have your number. We’ll call to set up an appointment.”
“I’m here now.” he pulls out a money clip stuffed with hundreds. “I’m willing to make a sizable donation.”
“We can make an exception,” Haven butts in, staring at him all dreamy-eyed like he’s a celebrity or something.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and lead him into the back where we have our cats housed. “You aren’t planning to use the cats as bait or something, are you?”
“Bait?”
“To train your guard dogs or something.”
“What makes you think I have guard dogs?”
“I don’t know. You just look like the kind of guy who’d have big mean dogs.”
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing. I just…why are you here? Are you like following me or something?”
“Why would I be following you? We’ve never met.”
I’m not crazy. I know what I saw last night. Does he really not recognize me? It isn’t a coincidence he’s here at my work suddenly wanting to adopt a cat.
“Do you integrate all your potential cat owners or am I special?”
“I’m very passionate about my job.”
“You’re something,” he mutters.
“The cats are through here.” I open the door and the cats all start going nuts from their cages, vying for pets and attention.
“There’s so many,” he notes.
“Is the cat for you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Some cats do better as an only cat. But we have these twins I want to see stay together.”
