Thirty-Four
What didWyatt do to my cat?
I stand in the doorway, Nanners nowhere in sight, but my couch throw pillows are ripped to shreds and stuffing is all over the floor of my living room.
“Nanners?” I say into the quiet apartment. “Oh, devil kitty, where are you?” I close the door behind me. “Dr. Jekyll? Mr. Hyde? Where are you?” I walk through the stuffing and down the small hall to my bedroom, where I left her sound asleep this morning.
More stuffing. As well as scratches all over the post of my bed.
Fantastic.
And yet—there she is. Asleep, in her kennel, as if she had nothing to do with the destruction of my home.
Me: My cat is possessed.
Maggie: What does that mean?
Me: She used to sleep all the time. Now she destroys.
Maggie: She’s a kitten. She just needs to play.
Me: Tell that to my bedpost.
Maggie: You need to get her a scratching post.
I switch over to Amazon, and six seconds later…
Me: Done. It’ll be here in two days.
Me: Now… Can we talk about us?
Maggie: There is no us, Lucca.
Me: Except that there is.
Maggie: I’d like to keep my job.
Me: You mentioned that.
Maggie: A fling with Lucca Cruz just isn’t worth my job. My livelihood. My way of living.
Maggie: Do you get it yet?
Me: Fling?
Maggie: Is that really all you took from my text? I’m sure you’re great at… flinging. But it’s not worth my reputation, my career!
Me: Who said anything about a fling?
Maggie: Does Lucca do anything besides flings? Fran said you never even remember the names of the girls you date.
Me: Not true. Besides, we both know I have your name down. Margaret (Maggie) Bonita McCrae.
Maggie: That isn’t my middle name.
Me: It should be.
Me: Explain the fling.
