Chapter Twenty-Four
Chaos and feathers. Not like a pillow fight amount of feathers, but a sparse, distinct trail of them leading out of the animal room in two directions. Caitlin gasped as a fat, gold chicken streaked past followed by a delighted puppy, who at top speed was having trouble keeping his front and back end in sync, which sent him barreling along on a diagonal. Occasionally the pup would get close enough to the irritated chicken to nibble tail feathers.
“Grab Maude!” Fiona cried from the other side of the room, where she dove for the other chicken, Hortensia, and missed her by a mile. The three puppies who had been chasing Hortensia stopped to lick Fiona’s face as she struggled to get to her feet. She took the opportunity to scoop them up with the help of two guests.
Poor Maude trotted back by from the other direction, and with the ferret in one hand, Taylor scooped her up in his other and headed straight for the animal room. As it turned out, Alastair and Maude must not have been besties, because they immediately started wiggling and scratching and squeaking and squawking. Taylor was by the table closest to the animal room door when Hyah streaked out and flew a circle through the huge space, causing applause from some and screeches from others.
At this point, the epic fowl vs. ferret battle being waged in Taylor’s arms came to a head, and Alastair shot free of Taylor’s hold, straight into the lap of a woman wearing a white chiffon dress, flashy jewelry, and an elaborate hairdo held in place with gemstone combs.
It wasn’t a scream, really. The noise the woman made was more like a cross between a car alarm and a train horn—a sound Caitlin had never heard a human make before. The woman seated next to her, though, gave a bona fide scream when the ferret launched across her cleared place setting and onto the shoulder of an elderly man doubled over with laughter who clearly found the entire situation hilarious. Which it was, Caitlin supposed, as she covered her mouth to hold in laughter.
The people at the table next to them did not find it hilarious, however, when Alastair executed a perfect swan dive to the center of their table, knocking into the centerpiece and sending it airborne before he leapt off and disappeared under the table where Grams and the Andersons were seated.
The glass centerpiece globe hit the floor with a shattering crash right as Hyah landed in the car alarm/train horn woman’s ornate hairdo, which, of course, revved up her piercing howls.
No longer able to contain her laughter, Caitlin grabbed her stomach and doubled over with shrieking giggles. Too much. The whole thing was way too much. Chickens and ferrets and puppies and…she wiped her eyes and sucked in a deep breath… And Taylor. All of it. Way too much.
She wasn’t the only one laughing. And the woman with the bird on her head wasn’t the only one shrieking, though only a few people had left their places, hovering near their chairs as if ready to bolt if necessary. And as she looked around, Caitlin noticed some of the guests were holding kittens and puppies. All of the babies must have participated in the prison break.
At the microphone, Jane was encouraging everyone to remain calm while fighting giggles of her own. A cool hand touched her shoulder, and Caitlin turned to find Fiona, who had dropped off her puppy and circled around to join her.
“I guess I should go rescue that woman before she hyperventilates,” she whispered with a smile, which set Caitlin off into another bout of laughter.
“Sorry,” she said, “I shouldn’t be laughing.”
“Typical stress reaction. People sometimes laugh when in intense situations.” Fiona was always analyzing. Being so shy had made her more of an observer than a participant. Once you got to know her, though, she’d open up. She never had problems communing with animals, like the parrot, who seemed happy to see her when she strode over.
Hyah hopped onto Fiona’s arm, and the woman in the white dress settled down. She was quiet, listening to Fiona’s profuse apologies, but her face was still red as she smoothed her tangled, matted hair into something that looked more like a wig from the show Hairspray than the elegant coiffeur she had come in with. Just as Fiona was turning to take Hyah away, the bird stretched and snagged a sparkly comb from the woman’s hair in its huge, black beak. “Pretty bird!” it squawked.
Caitlin shook her head. Not a stress reaction. She was sure she was laughing because it was funny.
Taylor emerged from the animal room, tux jacket covered in fur and feathers, right as Hortensia made a break for it from under one of the empty back tables. Taylor grabbed her two-handed, much to the dismay of the puppy playing chase with her. The puppy got over it, though, when Caitlin picked him up and scratched his belly, wiping a stray feather from his lip.
A crash happened near the front of the room as another centerpiece became a casualty. Alastair was doing a wiggle dance in the middle of the Andersons’ table. One look at Jane, still at the microphone, revealed she wasn’t amused anymore.
Caitlin passed the pup off to a man at the table nearest her and struck out to put an end the ferret fiasco once and for all. Taylor fell into step behind her, Hortensia squawking in protest with each of his long strides.
Yeah. And after she dealt with Alastair, she’d have to deal with Taylor, too. Her heart constricted. It had to be done, no matter how much she dreaded it.
“Okay, weasel,” Caitlin said, eyes narrowed on Alastair. “Playtime is over.”
Alastair wasn’t troubled by her serious tone and fell into a series of barrel rolls across the now centerpiece-less table. Instead of freaking out, as she’d expected from this VIP table, everyone looked highly amused, except for Grams, who had backed her chair up as if ready to run if need be.
Chicken held firmly to his chest, Taylor stood near his grandmother, watching Caitlin with a grin.
Caitlin kept her voice soft and low as she spoke to Alastair, who was lying on his back playing with a napkin, not paying attention to her at all. “Soooo, I need you to cooperate with me here.” She was pretty sure that ferret and cooperation were an oxymoron, but she continued on in her smooth, hushed tone. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”
When she reached, Alastair wiggled to the far side of the table and everyone around it chuckled…except Grams, who scooted farther away.
“Hey, Weasel Whisperer,” Taylor said. “Want some help?”
He circled the table to stand next to her, and even with all that was going on, her body reacted to his closeness, dumping adrenaline that kicked up her breathing and heartbeat.
“Reach in my jacket pocket,” he said in an authoritative tone.
And there it was. That irrational irritation at commands.
“Do it,” he ordered.
When she met his eyes, she was surprised at the look of pleading on his face, like it was important to him that she do as he asked. And then she remembered what he’d said out in the snow that day. “Please” was always implied, he’d told her. It was about trust and enhancing each other. He wasn’t bossing her around in front of all these people to make himself look like a hotshot or to make her look stupid. He was helping her.
Giving Hortensia’s sharp-looking toenails that hovered right over the coat pocket a skeptical look, Caitlin reached in and pulled out a little square training treat and grinned. When she looked up, Taylor was grinning right back. “I passed that test,” he whispered in her ear, lips so close they brushed her skin, but she didn’t get to enjoy the bolts of thrill from it because Alastair bounded to the edge of the table, chirping loudly.
She was ready, though. She caught him midair, pulling the wiggly ferret against her tightly, so there was no way he could squirm loose.
After a round of cheers and applause that caused her skin to heat to the point she was pretty sure she was blushing purple, the lights dimmed and the band started up with a slow, relaxing tune. After a moment, she could breathe again.
“I’ll take him,” Fiona said, pulling Alastair from her arms. “I discovered how the animals got out.” She adjusted the squirming ferret higher on her body. “Hyah was unlatching the cages every time I left the room. She was probably bored and a new puzzle was exciting.”
Caitlin shot a worried glance in the direction of the animal room.
“She’s in her carrier now,” Fiona said. “Everyone except Maude is out of their crates anyway.” She grinned hugely. “Almost every one of them has found a home tonight, thanks to the critter coup.”
Jane joined them and relieved Taylor of the puffy chicken, who looked like she had been about to fall asleep in Taylor’s arms. And with a sharp pang, the memory of what it had felt like to sleep in Taylor’s arms knifed through Caitlin. She wondered how long it would take before memories like that stopped bombarding her.
Never. He was the kind of guy you never forgot. Never got over.
Jane and Fiona left with their charges, and two of the Anderson couples got up from the table and wandered to the dance floor, hand in hand, to join other pairs already in each other’s arms, swaying to the music.
Grams scooted her chair back to the table and signaled a server passing by. “Do you have any of that champagne from dessert left?”
The woman nodded.
“Good. We’ll need a bottle for the table.” Frowning, Grams looked from Taylor to Caitlin and back again. “Make that two bottles.”
He was staring at her in that peculiar way again. The one that made her feel exposed and raw. Then, he took her hand and introduced her to Will and Claire Anderson, who shook her hand and grinned at her in an odd, knowing way that made her a little queasy. Before she could dwell on that or try to figure it out, Taylor leaned down and kissed Grams’ cheek. “You know my grandmother, of course, but I want to introduce you to her longtime friend and my downstairs neighbor.”
The older woman with the big glasses and short-cropped hair grinned up at her.
“Caitlin,” he continued. “This is Felicia. Felicia Lawrence.”
After a brief hiccup, her heart kicked into high gear. Felicia. The texting, panty-losing Felicia? She shot a look at Grams, who was pouring a glass of champagne the server had delivered.
“Nice to meet you, Caitlin,” the woman said. “Taylor told me all about you this afternoon while I waited for my clothes to dry.”
Caitlin gripped the back of the empty chair in front of her for balance. Her hammering heart was making her a little light-headed.
“Felicia’s washer broke a couple of weeks ago, and she’s waiting on a new one to be delivered,” Taylor said.
“I’m sure you’ll be relieved when it arrives.” Felicia looked up at him, her eyes appearing huge behind her thick lenses. “You must be sick of me losing track of my socks and unmentionables in your dryer.”
Grams handed Taylor a flute of champagne, and he passed it to Caitlin.
She glanced at Taylor, not sure what to make of him or any of this.
“As for Deborah, she was a one-time date that ended after thirty minutes because my job called me away,” he said, shooting Will Anderson a look. “She texted me about going out again the day we met, but you knew that.”
Champagne was passed to Claire Anderson and then Felicia.
“What you don’t know is that I told her no.”
Caitlin set her champagne down on the table so her trembling wouldn’t be obvious.
“I told her no because I had met you,” Taylor continued. “From the moment you came barging into my apartment sopping wet and pissier than a cat in a bath, I couldn’t imagine going out with anyone but you. No one else appeals.”
Oh, shit. She eyed the champagne, wishing she could chug it down without looking ridiculous. In a matter of seconds, he’d blown apart one of the two reasons she’d used to convince herself they shouldn’t see each other again.
When Jane put her arm around her unexpectedly, Caitlin jumped. She hadn’t even noticed her walk up.
Jane accepted an offered glass of champagne, then retrieved Caitlin’s from the table and handed it to her. “So, here’s to Animal Attraction’s first annual pet shelter fundraiser ball.”
Everyone at the table raised their glasses and took a sip. Caitlin took more than one, resisting the urge to chug it like a shooter. Even covered in fur and feathers, Taylor made her feel like her batteries were overloading. She took another drink of her champagne.
“Go slow,” Jane said. “Your first client is at seven.”
She’d seen the paperwork terminating Beau’s contract, which meant her first client was at eight. Maybe she’d picked one up. “Do I have a new client?”
“No.” Jane shook her head, smiling.
All kinds of bizarre scenarios, each one less probable than the last, tumbled through Caitlin’s brain, making her feel off balance and confused.
“Dance with me,” Taylor said as the band began another slow song.
She shook her head, tears threatening to make an unwanted appearance.
He took her hand. “Please, dance with me, Caitlin.”
Before she could get a no out or even shake her head, Grams cut in. “Do you remember what I told you at the top of that hill when you were too scared to slide down?”
Caitlin blinked rapidly, then took a breath, hoping her voice came out strong enough to not sound like the Ferret Whisperer. “You said not to rule something out based on a bad experience.”
Grams nodded. “I also told you to come at a new thing as if it has the power to prove the past wrong.” She lifted her champagne glass. “Here’s to proving the past wrong.”
“Hear, hear!” Jane said.
Everyone lifted their glasses and drank, including Taylor, but Caitlin was still trying to make sense of it all.
“And here’s to new things!” Jane said, glass held high. All at the table toasted and cheered.
Taylor took Caitlin’s glass and set it on the table with his. “Dance with me.” Taking both of her hands, he backed up the few steps to the dance floor, taking her with him.
Still shaking, she reveled in the feel of his arms wrapped around her, and she wound hers around his waist, swaying to the music, loving the smell of him—evergreen and mint—and the sound of his heart beating against her ear. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” she asked, resisting the urge to look over at the table and the half dozen or so sets of eyes on them.
He ran his hands up and down her spine as they continued to sway on the dark dance floor.
“I want to see you. Tonight. Tomorrow. The next day.”
She stiffened. “Has your trip been postponed?”
Hands still smoothing up and down her back over the satin dress, he put his mouth to her ear. “You could say that.”
This time, she stopped and pulled back from him, heart threatening to break out like all the animals had. “For how long?”
He pulled her back to him and enfolded her in his arms, which slowed her heart rate, but he didn’t sway to the music. They simply stood still on the dance floor. His voice was hoarse, like his throat was tight as he spoke with his lips at her ear. “I’m here for as long as you want me.”
She pulled back to look at his face to find him staring at her with absolute sincerity. She couldn’t form words, but he knew what her question was.
“Grams came by. She has a talent at phrasing things in a way that makes sense out of the senseless.”
Caitlin’s stomach flipped over. He’d worked his whole career to reach this point as a pilot. “Did you lose your job?” she asked in horror.
“Yes.” He smoothed away a strand of hair that had come loose at her temple and ran a thumb over the troubled crease between her eyebrows.
The music ended and another slow song began. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Will and his wife strolling to the dance floor hand-in-hand. “But Jane told me you and Will were close friends.”
“We still are.”
“But then, how could he let you go?”
“He didn’t. I quit.”
For a moment, she felt like she might be sick. He’d made it seem like his job was the most important thing in his life. Why would he throw it away? Completely still, she stared up at him as couples danced by them on all sides. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, Grams has a way of phrasing things that puts life in perspective. There are more important things than a job, Caitlin.”
“There are more important things, but you still have to have one,” a deep voice said from behind her. She spun to find Will Anderson with his arm around his wife. “My brothers and I talked after you left my office—”
Taylor held a hand up to silence him. “I made up my mind, Will.”
“Just shut up and listen, Blankenship. You didn’t let me get a word in edgewise in my office, but you’re going to hear me out now.”
Resigned, Taylor gave a long-suffering sigh as the dancers swayed around them.
Satisfied with his reaction, Will continued, “We had no idea your schedule was so screwed up because none of us paid attention as to who was flying when.”
“It’s all good,” Taylor said, wrapping his arm around Caitlin’s shoulder.
“Not yet, it’s not. My brothers and I don’t give a shit which pilot moves to Boston. The new guy says he’s happy to go.”
Taylor’s fingers tightened on Caitlin’s shoulder, and she glanced up to find his lips tight as he studied his friend.
“And as for hours,” Will continued. “We’re going to pick up a third guy to be on call for off hours when Michael gets a bug up his ass and decides to go close a deal in the middle of the night on a Sunday. Neither Chance nor I knew he was doing that so often. In short, we’re not going to accept your resignation. You’ll work during business hours only on weekdays with an occasional weekend flight if the guy on call is over his designated flight hours.”
Taylor appeared speechless as he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. Claire, Will Anderson’s wife, winked at Caitlin.
There went her heart again, rattling its cage.
Will dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Taylor. “Here’s your resignation. Keep it, burn it, shove it up your ass for all I care, but I’m not accepting it. I’ll see you in my office on Monday at nine to go over your new schedule.” And without another word, he took his wife in his arms and joined the couples dancing around them.
Taylor stared after his friend for a moment, then with a grin, tore the sheet of paper in half and threw the pieces over his shoulder. He took Caitlin’s wrists and looped her arms around him, leading her back into their swaying dance. For a few blissful moments, she simply leaned into him, letting this “new” Jane had toasted sink in.
“A regular schedule will make Beauregard happy. He’ll see more of you,” she said.
“I’m hoping he’ll see more of you, too.” When she didn’t answer, but buried her face against his jacket, he continued, “I’m hoping to see more of you. As much time as you’ll give me.”
She stopped and stared up at him, words still bouncing around in her head out of order.
“We have something between us. It’s why I quit. Why I decided to stay,” he said. “I know you felt it too. Our weekend was the most incredible thing that’s happened to me in my adult life. Grams says we have something special, and I agree. I’d like to explore it. See where it goes.”
Wordlessly, she stared up at his handsome face, flickering multicolored in the lights on the dance floor. Grams was right. She needed to come at this new thing as if she had the power to prove the past wrong. And she would, from this point forward. No more holding back.
His brow furrowed. “Say something, please, Caitlin.”
All the emotion she’d so carefully tamped down over the last week came to the surface as she slammed the lid closed on that steamer trunk of baggage she’d been lugging around for years. Looking up at him, she thought for a minute she might lose her balance, but stayed upright because he was holding her. Adding to who she was and making her more solid.
“Kiss me, Blankenship,” she ordered. “Without hesitation. Without question. Kiss. Me. Now.”
Of course, he obeyed.
And that laugh she couldn’t hold in when the kiss finally ended long after the music died? It had nothing to do with a stress reaction, and everything to do with complete and total happiness.