CHAPTER 21

EMERY

Pussy-whipped for sure.

That was the only explanation for why I was staring down at ‘The Flying Purple People Eater’ at six o’clock in the morning. Estelle didn’t waste any time cashing in on that bet, and it was time to pay up.

She handed me a hot pink helmet. “Now, before you go on the ride of a lifetime, I need to tell you why this bike is awesome.”

“Still a trike, Estelle.”

She let out a cute growl. “First, it has three wheels, which means I don’t have to balance. My core strength isn’t up to par, and there’s, like, zero chance of falling over on this thing.”

“My core strength is fine,” I announced cockily. She ignored me.

“Second, look at this seat.” She patted the black foam, which was at least a foot wide. Then she picked up a large, oddly shaped piece of cardboard. “I know this looks like a giant upside-down ball sac,” she said, making me laugh, “but it’s not. This is the actual size of my ass when I’m sitting down.”

I laughed even harder, clutching my burning abs and questioning my claim about having great core strength. “You mean to tell me you sat down on that and traced your butt?”

“I needed it to be accurate for the demonstration.” Placing the cutout over a standard-sized seat on a bike next to hers, she pointed at the massive size difference. “Can you see why sitting on something that’s literally the width of a pop can would be uncomfortable for me?”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” I quipped, snickering at my own crude joke.

She smacked me with the cardboard ass.

“And third, look at this basket.” Sweeping her hand through the air, she made a big deal of the large metal crate between the two back wheels. “It’s great for hauling all kinds of cargo.”

Sighing, I straddled the seat. I didn’t want to admit out loud that it was the most comfortable bike seat I’d ever sat on, but damn. “Is this memory foam?”

“It is.” She grinned.

“How far do I have to go?”

“To the gas station.”

Dismayed, I let out an obnoxious scoff. “That’s almost a mile.”

She ignored me again. “While you’re there, can you pick up some more Rocky Road ice cream for me? I’m hungry.” Following up with a sweet smile, she leaned down to give me a peck on the cheek. “You look adorable, by the way.”

Shaking my head, I chuckled. “Unbelievable.”

By the time I got back, filming was already underway. Taking a day off had set us back, which was exactly what I wanted, but it seemed Steve was hell-bent on making up for lost time.

He stopped me in the apartment hallway outside Estelle’s door. “Yesterday I made some calls to the shelter.”

My eyebrows shot up because he usually left that stuff to me. “You did?”

“We’ve got three potential families coming to see Mike today.”

“Wow, uh…” Why couldn’t he be this motivated all the time? “That’s a lot of traffic coming through the apartment. And Mike hasn’t been cleared for the UTI yet.”

Waving a hand dismissively, he said, “Just send some crystals home with them.”

“It’s not that easy.”

Obviously, he had no idea how much detail went into the adoptions. It wasn’t like we just found anyone off the street and gave them a cat. I investigated the families first. There was a screening process and paperwork. I needed to make sure they were serious about providing a loving home and that they weren’t just in it to get their fifteen minutes of fame.

“Make it that easy.” He shrugged. “They’re getting a free cat.”

He was such a jackass. There was no point in arguing with him, so I walked away, knowing I’d do whatever I damn well pleased. To hell with what he wanted.

As soon as I got into the apartment, my eyes went straight to Estelle. She was by the kitchen sink, filling a new pitcher full of water. Probably about to make a new batch of sweet tea.

Grinning, I held up the pint of her ice cream before stashing it in the freezer. Then I went into the living room where Agatha was on the couch with Carol, Alice, and Bobby.

“I wish I could take them all.” She beamed up at me.

“You’d have to fight Estelle for these two,” I joked, pointing at Alice and Bobby.

It wasn’t until I sat down that I realized I was getting weird looks from pretty much everyone in the apartment. Well, everyone except for Estelle, who was silently laughing her ass off in the kitchen.

“What?” I glanced around.

“Did you go for a ride this morning?” Agatha snickered.

“Yeah… Why?”

She pointed at my head. “I like your helmet. Pink’s a good color on you.”

Shit. I’d forgotten I was still wearing it. Shooting a half-hearted glare at Estelle, I undid the clasp under my chin and took it off. She came into the living room carrying an armful of small plastic shot glasses.

“A little early to be hitting the bottle, don’t you think?” I teased.

Rolling her eyes, she started lining them up on the coffee table. “I’m giving Agatha a demonstration.”

Now it was my turn for an eye roll. “Another demonstration?” I turned to Agatha. “Estelle’s demonstrations tend to end with someone wearing a pink bike helmet, riding around town on a tricycle.”

“It’s a bike,” Estelle hissed.

Amused, Agatha chuckled at our banter, but her laughter was cut short when Carol began swatting at the shot glasses, knocking them to the floor one by one.

“See?” Estelle shrugged. “I can’t have candles or decorations.” She pointed at the yellow flowers. “That vase? It’s glued to the table. I just want you to understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

Agatha raised her eyebrows in challenge. “You think this is bad? Mitzy would only drink out of the toilet. It was her only source of hydration.”

“That’s pretty gross.” Estelle’s face screwed up. “But while we’re on the subject of bathrooms, Carol will only sleep in a sink. You might have an issue if you want to brush your teeth or wash your hands.”

“Mitzy used to climb the walls. Literally,” Agatha countered. “I had claw marks all over the drywall.”

As the two women got into a contest about whose cat was worse, I sat back and watched with a smile on my face.

Scoffing, Agatha leaned forward and scooped Carol into her lap. “Oh, and we can talk about bathrooms some more. Mitzy used to tear up my toilet paper and leave it all over the apartment.”

Standing up, Estelle laughed. “Follow me.”

Joel and I traipsed after the women and hovered outside the bathroom. Estelle held up the tissue container that housed her toilet paper.

“That’s why I got this. Carol does the same thing. If you want her, I’ll even let you have it. I wouldn’t have a reason to keep it anymore.” Her fingers curled around the yellow plastic, a flicker of sadness seeping through.

Agatha nodded. “I want her. And I’ll love her. I promise I’ll give her a good home.”

Estelle’s forlorn expression filled with happiness. “I know you will.”

“I really like this one, Dad.” One of the nine-year-old twin boys looked up at his parents from the floor as he dangled a bird toy in front of Mike.

This was the third family from the applicants Steve had chosen and they were my favorites so far.

I liked that they had children. Not every cat did well in a family with young kids, but Mike had a lot of energy. If he was going to be happy living indoors, he’d need constant stimulation.

“It says on your application you have a screened-in porch?” I asked. Because of Mike’s specific needs, creating the illusion of being outside was important for his well-being.

“On the back of the house, yeah,” Mr. Carter answered. “We spend a lot of time out there.”

“We also have a large bay window where he could sit and watch the neighborhood,” Mrs. Carter added, scratching Mike behind the ear. “He can be our guard cat.”

The boys laughed.

Estelle and I locked eyes, and an unspoken communication passed between us—the Carter family was perfect.

At this point, I was pretty sure most of the crew knew about Estelle and me; we hadn’t exactly been covert about it today. The sexual tension was impossible to miss.

After Agatha left with Carol, I almost kissed Estelle in front of Joel during active filming. Showing her affection was just natural and automatic. I’d been a few inches from her face when I realized what I was doing, then I tried to play it off like she had a piece of fuzz in her hair.

But I didn’t want to hide anymore. Part of me wanted the whole world to know she was mine, no matter what the consequences were.

And no way in hell was I spending one more night in that RV.

“We’ll need to keep Mike for one more night,” I told the Carters. “He needs to be tested for a possible UTI before he can come home with you. Once he gets medically cleared, he’s all yours.”

The parents grinned as their kids cheered. Mike showed his enthusiasm by chewing on one of the twin’s shoelaces.

A loud hacking sound came from Steve. He sent a look that said, ‘absolutely-fucking-not.’ I sent one back that said, ‘fuck you. I’m doing it my way.’

“You all right there, buddy?” I asked him, pretending to be concerned. “If you need something to drink, I recommend Estelle’s homemade sweet tea.”

Mike staying one more night wasn’t hindering the process, and I refused to send him out the door without a clean bill of health.

Obviously pissed that I’d gone against his wishes, and that I was being a smartass, Steve stormed out of the room. Good riddance.

But I didn’t like the look he sent me before he walked out the door. Because that one said, ‘I’m going to get back at you for this.’