Hearts in Motion (9 page)

She picked up the phone and called Daisy. As it rang, she petted Minnie, who was staring at her intently, as if she were remembering everything to convey to the others. The thought made Cara smile as Daisy answered the phone in her strong voice and asked how the babysitting was going.

“Wonderful.” She pulled her hand from Minnie. “Grace and I and the animals love Cara. She took home a foster kitten. The agency already okayed it.”

“That was fast. It took me longer to get approval.”

“You aren’t the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the city.”

Daisy’s full-throated laugh came through. Abby waited for her to stop; she lived by the rule to never interrupt a laugh. “They trusted my recommendation, too,” she added, “and I did say he’s your nephew. But that’s not why I called. Do you remember telling me that you’d found the perfect man to fix me up with?”

“Darling, that was months ago. He’s not on the market anymore.”

Abby wrinkled her nose. “Just as well, I suppose. Men are like vegetables. Leave them hang around too long and they get spoiled.”

Daisy laughed again. “It’s too bad. You would’ve been good for him.”

“I don’t want a man I can be good for. I want one who will be good for
me
.”

“You’re good for my soul,” Daisy said, laughter still quivering in her full voice. “That’s why I love you.”

“If only you were a man, you’d be my perfect partner.”

That set Daisy off again. Abby sat back in her chair and saw Minnie staring at her with her Siamese blue eyes.

“I do know an
im
perfect man,” Daisy said, laughter still in her voice.

“Sounds good to me. Perfect is too much to live up to.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” Abby sat up straight. “I’m talking to you and will undoubtedly pet my cat. I might even go wild and pluck my eyebrows.”

“Start plucking now. I’ll call you back in five minutes.”

Abby set down her phone and stared at Minnie. “Wow. Daisy doesn’t waste time.”

Then she stood and headed to the bathroom. She needed to find her tweezers.

***

Holden felt antsy tonight in his living room, his house too quiet. It was still light out, and he gazed out the French doors at the lake. Too many thoughts swirled in his head for him to sit and relax. Usually he worked late and went to bed early. Maybe reading a book in between or watching a favorite TV show or, when the urge hit him, painting one of his fantastical visions. Sometimes he and Portia would do something with friends, chatting and smiling, not saying anything of meaning that he could recall. Now he wondered what was behind their smiles. Happiness or loneliness or secret desires, hopes, and dreams.

He didn’t know. He didn’t even know Portia’s hopes and dreams. Did she have any? She seemed to glide through life, doing everything exquisitely. She knew about his worries about the company. He’d told her the truth about Cara’s parentage. Other than her, he’d only told Daisy and Ryan. It was their right to know the truth.

It wasn’t Abby’s right. But he’d seen the accusation and disappointment on her face at dinner tonight.
 

He’d seen the rejection. Yet he’d continued to eat his spaghetti as if nothing was wrong...when everything was wrong.

He’d burned at the injustice, yet he had no idea how to fix it.

A sound caught his attention. A soft meow.

Turning, he spotted the kitten.

“What are you doing here?” He bent and held his hand out for her to sniff.

The little ball of fluff did better than that. She rubbed the sides of her mouth on the bony ridges of his hand then tried to climb on it.
 

His mood softened. Epic stumbled off his hand, too big to fit. Still thinking she was tiny and obviously not accustomed to her growth spurts.

“I understand.” He picked her up with both hands and held her in front of his face. “I think I’m more limber than I am, too.”

Epic meowed.

“You’re going to get white cat hair all over my brown couch, aren’t you?”

Another meow.

“The lady at the pet store said I need to clean the litter box every day.”

Another meow. As if she was answering him.

“The cleaning crew comes in only once a week. This means I’ll have to do it myself.”

The kitten didn’t meow at him now, perhaps understanding that some subjects were better left unanswered.

“You’re a smart kitten, aren’t you?”

Epic meowed loudly, ending on a high note, as if it were an exclamation point.

“I agree. Let me give you a problem.” Holden stepped to the brown, leather recliner and sank into it. “If I knew something that would change the way someone thought about me, do you think I should tell her?”

This time she mewled, a sound that could only be more positive if she’d nodded her small head.

“Even if it’s not my secret?”

The kitten’s head tilted, and she stared at him, as if trying to understand the subtext.

“Even if it would hurt another person if she found out the truth?” He frowned. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt Cara before this, he thought. But in these last couple days, she’d come to depend upon him. She’d told him she loved him.

Epic voiced a string of meows. Holden leaned back on the recliner and let her walk on his upper chest.

“That’s definitely a yes,” he said.

The kitten jumped off him, and he turned his head and watched her pad back down the hall toward Cara’s bedroom.

He clasped the chair arms. If he thought Abby would say anything to Cara, he wouldn’t talk to her. But of course she wouldn’t. He got off his chair and went to the table where he’d left his cell phone. There was no excuse not to tell Abby.

A moment later, he listened to Grace tell him that Abby was on a date.

***

Mom and the man had driven away, but the man’s smell lingered in the living room. The scent was familiar, and so was the man. Minnie remembered him from all the years ago, when she’d been very young. The man had petted her and had made Mom laugh.

Then he’d made Mom angry. And when Mom got angry, so did Minnie.

She’s with the wrong man,
she told Quigley, who sat on the cat ladder’s top perch. He liked being on top, and for the most part, Minnie let him go up there.

But every once in a while, she would run up and knock him down to the floor.

Just to show him who was really the boss.

She likes men who are wrong,
Quigley said.

No, she doesn’t. She says they’re fun while they last.

What does that mean?

Minnie quickly licked a paw before replying.
It’s like chasing a bug. It’s fun for a while, but when you catch it, it’s not as fun.

It’s fun for me. I eat bugs. If this man is wrong, I can scratch and bite him.

Let’s wait. I didn’t smell her mating scent before they left, just his.

Maybe this is about the business. Maybe that’s why she left with him.

Minnie leaped up the ladder until she was on the perch below Quigley’s.
Quigley, that’s very smart of you.

I can be smart.

Of course you can.
Minnie reached up a paw and patted his head. It was important to encourage him when he did something right. Maybe he might even do it more often.

Then she turned and jumped down, perch by perch.

She would wait until Mom came home again. Then she would see if she should tell Quigley to use his claws to rip the man’s face open.

***

Music spilled out of the bar, onto the sidewalk where Abby sat at a small table, holding a beer and leaning toward her surprise date. It was dusk out, day blending into night, and three young women walked past them, three young men following close behind, like bloodhounds after rabbits. Abby felt free and young herself tonight, her blood pulsing in time with the music.
 

“I still can’t believe your aunt fixed me up with you.” She grinned at Ryan Ramsay. He was still a hunk with his tousled, golden-blond hair and his bright blue eyes. He even came with dimples, the whole package. Maybe too much of a package. For her, at least. Already tonight, a couple young women had strutted by, giving him the eye and sticking out their assets, top and bottom, for him to ogle.

“You know what Aunt Daisy said?” he asked.

“That I was funny and cute and smart?”

He laughed. “That you were all wrong for me. We’re too alike, and we wouldn’t have a speck of attraction.”

“And she’s right.” Abby lifted the beer to her mouth.

“Nope, she’s wrong.”

Abby fought to swallow the beer before she laughed. “You mean you’d do me?”

“In a second.”
 

“A second? Is that how long you last?”
 

The waiter, stopping at their table with a cheeseburger and chips for him and fries for her, laughed.
 

Ryan grinned. When the waiter left, he said, “Hey, give me credit. I can go for at least twenty seconds.”

She smiled at him, relaxed and in her zone. No tension, which was good. No sexual tension, which wasn’t good.

In another time and place—the awful years after her parents had died—on the few nights Grace slept over at a friend’s, she would’ve done him, too. Just to feel alive and wanted and not alone.

It was a good thing she hadn’t run into him during those years. Not while...

Well, it didn’t matter, she reminded himself. His brother was engaged to the perfect Portia, and she doubted they were celibate.

“Hey, something wrong with the fries?”

She shook her head and forced a smile. “They’re greasy and unhealthy as hell. The best kind.”

He lifted his burger, took a large bite, and chewed with his mouth closed while a glob of ketchup dribbled down the corner of his mouth.

If he’d been a different man—like his brother—she might be tempted to get up, lean toward him, and lick the ketchup off his face.

Life was playing tricks on her again.

Instead, she handed him a napkin and pointed at his chin.

“Something’s wrong?” He wiped the ketchup from his face. “What is it? I’ll take care of it.”

She wrinkled her nose and shrugged one shoulder. “You don’t want to hear about it.”

“I’m a good listener.”

“Really?”

“Ah, a skeptic.” He leaned forward. “It’s true. The secret of my success with the opposite sex. The best aphrodisiac is just listening to a woman. Not trying to fix her, just listening.”

She chuckled. “That sounds like you. I admire your honesty. It’s too bad I’m not attracted to you.”

“Shouldn’t I get a consolation prize for making you laugh?”

“Sure.” She held out her plate to him. “Have a fry.”

He took one. “Worth the evening out. So what have you been doing since we last saw each other?”

“Your brother didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That I’m in the same business as your family.”

His brows slashed down, the easygoing enjoyment on his face wiped out. “A furniture company?”

She nodded. “So far, we’re going custom. We’re looking to acquire backing, and then we’ll buy a plant.”

He still frowned, his eyes narrowed as he pinned her with a fierce gaze that made her smile sweetly at him. “You might want to build the plant in a different city,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. “I don’t think there’s enough room—or business—to fit another plant in this one.”

She stared at him. With a half scowl instead of his usual genial smile, he looked harder and older. Like someone who had responsibilities. Someone who cared about his company.

“You didn’t ask what kind of furniture,” she said.

His expression didn’t change.

She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “You’re protective about your company. You surprise me.”

“Most people are surprised, but I’ve grown up.”
 

“You’re more like your brother than I thought.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Then I guess it’s okay to tell you that we make cat furniture.”

His expression cleared, and he looked younger and carefree again. “No kidding.”

“I’m as serious as a graveyard.”

“I can think of some unserious things to do in a graveyard.”

She groaned, and he laughed.

“The cat tables and ladder I saw in your living room?” he asked. “Did you make that?”
 

“My partner does most of the building. I do most everything else. We have more models that we make, plus we build furniture to spec. A client who lives in a loft condo with a high ceiling wanted us to build a tunnel of boxes for his cats that hang from his ceiling, and we just did that special for him.”