When he reached the end of the sidewalk, he turned around again. He pulled a tape measure from his back pocket, slid it out, and lifted it between them, as if sizing her up.
“Caught you staring,” he yelled.
Cali frowned then, with one final huff of hatred, dashed across the street toward the café. This time, her cheeks were the ones flushed.
Chapter 2
Cali slammed the café door so hard the bell above her nearly rang off the mounting.
Minka had been wiping down tables, but she stopped and stared wide-eyed at Cali.
“You’re not going to believe what just happened, Minka!” The smell of warm, sugary pastries and brewed coffee did nothing to assuage Cali’s anger.
Minka squinted at Cali through perfectly drawn cat-eye eyeliner. “Uhh … the library board finally heard you out on the banned books display?”
“No, I wish. It’s on the agenda for the board meeting this month, though. My last chance before Banned Books Week.”
“Okay, so … you won the lottery?”
“Does this look like the face of a woman who won the lottery?” The volume of Cali’s voice surprised even her. Frustrated-librarian-hiding-in-car level of loud. She plopped into one of the café chairs and watched as her glasses slid down her nose and onto the floor. She threw up her hands. “August is out to get me, Minka.”
Minka clutched her towel to her chest. “Cali—you’re bleeding. Don’t move.”
Cali followed Minka’s gaze to her wrist, peeking from underneath a blood-speckled trench coat sleeve and groaned.“Vintage,” she muttered. “My grandmother’s. I just found it in the basement last week!”
The corner of Minka’s mouth twitched. Her telltale sign of incoming sarcasm. “Okay, Charlie Sheen. It’s not tiger’s blood. All it requires is a little stain remover. On the other hand is your carved and leaking flesh. Just don’t … move.”
Minka disappeared into the kitchen as Cali waited. When Minka returned, she was carrying Cali’s to-go bag, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and a hot, wet towel. Cali watched her friend wash the wound and sucked air between her teeth as Minka pressed the alcohol into her skin. They could both make out the puffy scratches rising from her flesh like bad seams. At least the alcohol stopped the bleeding.
“Better get a bandage on that soon,” said Minka. “Or a wrap. I’m out.”
Cali sighed. “I’ve got some bandages at my desk back at the library.”
Minka’s tuxedo cat jumped onto the table between them and nuzzled into Cali’s shoulder, vibrating with affection.
“Aww, thanks, Purrcy.” Cali scratched his head then rubbed at her wrist, which itched like crazy now. She turned to Minka. “So, as you might’ve guessed, I found that Maine Coon.”
Minka’s eyes widened. “And our tiniest, fuzziest foster did this to you? Maybe it’s not the sweet kitten as we all assumed.”
“No, I’m sure it is,” Cali insisted. “It was just the circumstances. I saw it outside the library on my walk over here. But so did this other guy—one of the construction workers getting off work at the same time. The kitten would’ve been mine if he’d just minded his own damn business.”
Minka’s expression changed to worry as she resumed cleaning the café. “You think he was trying to hurt it? Or shoo it off the construction site?”
“No, he was trying to help me.”
Minka’s brows creased together. “How very …” she considered Cali’s face, “dare he?”
“Right?!”
Minka stared across from her at the tiny round table. “Okay, girl. Either I’m confused or we’re in the middle of aVanderpump Rulesepisode and this ‘isn’t about the pasta’ at all.”
Cali’s nose scrunched up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Purrcy meowed repeatedly at Cali. “Thanks, Purrs. Everyone needs a Vander-splainer in their lives. I’ll take it from here.” She ushered the cat off the table and wiped away the paw prints. “What I mean is: Why are you mad at some secret undercover agent sent to help end Mission: Maine Coon before it ever really got started? Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Not when it ends in this.” Cali raised her wrist.
“Nah, kitty just got spooked. It happens with strays. And if I’m being honest, you sound spooked, too, Cals. This is bigger than a scratch. What’s up?”
