Finn had to admit that Checkers was a bit … spirited. And the animosity went both ways when it came to how Checkers felt about his campaign manager.
“Did you lock him in the bathroom again?”
“I’m not a monster. I locked him in the office.”
“Inmyroom?” Monty balked.
Finn just barely held back a laugh at that. Iris didn’t bother.
“It wasn’t your room when he locked the cat in there,” Iris reminded him.
Finn opened the office door, and Checkers came barreling out, making a beeline for Henry in a flurry of calico rage.
“Hey, no,” Henry scolded, jumping to get his legs away from the cat’s claws. “This is designer, you monster.”
“You brought this upon yourself,” Finn told him. “I hope you’re not allergic,” he said to Iris, feeling another pang of guilt for not knowing more about her. Even if their arrangement wasn’t a love match, he should at least know about any allergies or other medical conditions she might be dealing with.
“I hope he likes me more than he likes Henry. Though, there were several times today that I wanted to claw at him too, so I get his reaction.”
“Ha ha,” Henry said as Iris shot him a saccharine smile.
Checkers, seeing Monty, leapt up onto the island, trying to decide what he thought of the giant bird.
“Hello to you, sir,” Monty greeted him. “Do you speak?”
“No, he’s just a normal cat,” Henry told him. “Thankfully. Can you imagine what he would have to say?”
“Monty!” Iris hissed.
Finn looked back to find the pelican attempting to see if Checkers would fit in his beak.
“I wasn’treallygoing to eat him,” Monty said with a fluff of his chest feathers.
No one in the room seemed overly convinced of that fact.
“Maybe we should order some food,” Finn offered.
“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Iris agreed.
As he reached for his phone, he caught Iris sending the pelican a stern look.
“Well, I’ll get going. I have a lot to set up.”
“I told you I’m not getting my toes snipped.”
“Toes snipped?” Finn asked.
“It was a whole thing,” Henry said, sighing.
“I’m not deforming myself because you don’t like my feet.”
“Anyway,” Henry went on. “I have to set up Iris’s spa treatments, her etiquette classes, and get the ball rolling on the wedding plans. We are cutting things dangerously close. You and me, tomorrow, nine.”
“What’s tomorrow at nine?” Iris asked.
“The gym. He also wants to changemylooks,” Finn told her.
“Just your calves. Shorts season is coming. We can’t have you caught on the golf course with subpar calves.”
