When I step toward them out of some sort of invisible draw, Oreo hisses at me. “See!” I exclaim in frustration, glaring at the cat. “She hates me.”
Winter continues to soothe the fur on Oreo’s back, hushing my cool tone. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time a pussy didn’t like you. Huh, Oreo?”
The retort makes me freeze.
We’re quiet for a second.
Two.
Winter sheepishly peeks up at me.
Then I burst out laughing.
Her grin quickly grows, and she joins in while still fussing over the kitten in her arms. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have accepted it anyway,” I reply easily, huffing out another laugh. “Seriously, though. Ithink I chose the one animal that doesn’t want me around. At this rate, you should keep her. It’s obvious she has favorites.”
Winter straightens, her eyes flicking to me. “I cannot have a cat.”
The indignation in her tone has me staring at her skeptically. “Why not?”
She levels me a look. “Thomas, I date men for food. Remember? If I can’t afford more than ramen on my own, I’m not going to be able to budget for cat food and everything else she’d need to live happily.”
The reminder makes my fingers tighten into fists. And apparently, I’m not the only one who wants to continue that conversation.
“Did you really go to Janel about Cody?” she asks quietly, not looking up from Oreo to avoid my stare.
I drop my voice so the people gathering at the other end of the room can’t hear. “If you’re asking, you already know the answer.”
We’re quiet.
She focuses on Oreo.
I focus on her.
“He could lose his job,” she whispers.
All I say is, “Good.”
When she peeks up at me again, I can see the way her lips part to say something before she inevitably decides not to.
My eyes go down to her hands. “Your nails are yellow today.”
Another happy color.
Her throat bobs. “Yellow represents healing, optimism, and clear mental focus.” Her fingers flex around Oreo. “And it was my mother’s favorite color.”
Was.I take the reference to her mother in the past tense as another piece of the puzzle. I don’t tell her I’m sorry for her lossbecause I don’t think she’d want to hear it. “What does purple mean?”
“Creativity and spirituality,” she answers after a moment.
I cock my head. “And pink?”
She doesn’t answer me. Mostly because a woman who can’t be that much older than me walks up with a big smile on her face. “Welcome! You must be Thomas.” She sticks her hand out to me, and I dutifully take it with a well-trained smile.
Before I can correct her, Winter says, “He prefers Moskins, Kaleigh.”
The woman, Kaleigh, nods in understanding as she inspects me with an inquisitive eye that seems to hold more than curiosity. “Moskins,” she tests out, a small, flirty smile tilting her painted pink lips as her gaze rakes over me. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Kayleigh, the executive director here. Anything you need, please feel free to ask.”
