by Nic Saint
“I’m not fat! I have big bones! It runs in my family!”
“And I’m not fat either,” Brutus cried. “I’m muscular.” He pounded his belly. “All muscle all the way. Not an ounce of fat.”
“If it helps you sleep at night, go ahead and fool yourself,” said Diego, stifling a yawn. “Hey, you, shorty,” he said, addressing Dooley now.
Dooley pointed at himself. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yeah, I’m talking to you. Do you see another short cat in here? Can you tell me when lunch is served? I’m real particular about eating times.”
Dooley was too stunned to respond. He just sat there, goggling.
Diego heaved out a sigh. “Short and dumb. What a combo. Maybe you can tell me, fat blorange cat. When do they serve lunch in this dump?”
“Max!” I cried, trembling with indignity now. “My name is Max!”
“Sure. Whatever you say, dude. So?” When I stared at him, he rolled his eyes again. “Geez Louise, do I have to spell it out for you? When. Do. They. Serve. Lunch. In. This. Dump? Never mind. I’ll ask the blond bimbo when she comes back. I’ll bet she’s smarter than you bunch of chumps.”
At this point, I, Brutus and Dooley all started yelling at the newcomer simultaneously. Unfortunately, he seemed oblivious, as he was staring past us in the direction of the French windows, which were open.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Diego said, finally displacing himself and gracefully jumping down from the couch. “Where did you spring from? Heaven?”
I turned around to see who he was talking to, and saw that Harriet had entered the room. She was eyeing the newcomer curiously. “Who are you?”
Diego walked up to the white Persian and grinned. “Diego. I’m new in town. And you are…”
“Harriet.”
“Lovely name for a lovely dame.”
“So…” She gave me a confused look. “Do you live here now?”
“Yeah, Odelia adopted me. I’m here to stay, babe.”
“Odelia adopted you?” Harriet asked.
“It’s a long story. I belonged to this old babe, then she transferred me to this cop dude, and he decided to offload me so now I’m here.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she said. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”
He sighed. “Yeah, my life has not been a bed of roses, believe you me.”
“Now that you’re here, things are going to get better,” she said.
“Now that you’re here, I know things are gonna get better,” he purred, waggling his whiskers seductively.
Oh, God. The cheesy lines just kept on coming! I was waiting for Harriet to finally catch on and put this guy in his place, but instead she was giving him the same look she used to give Brutus when he first arrived in Hampton Cove. Both Dooley and I glanced over at Brutus, who seemed to sit stunned, glued to the spot, eyes wide, his jaw on the floor.
“Sweetness!” Brutus finally managed. “My precious!”
Harriet looked up, and gave him a curt nod. “Hey, Brutus.” But instead of going over to him and smothering him with revolting kisses, like she usually did, she stayed right where she was, checking out Diego.
Diego gave Brutus a smug smile, and asked Harriet, “Maybe you can show me around? Nobody has given me the grand tour of this place.”
“They haven’t?” She gave me an angry look. “Max! Where are your manners?”
“He called me fat,” I said weakly.
“And orange,” Dooley said, just as weakly.
“Hey, that’s what buds do,” said Diego. “Just some good-natured ribbing.”
“Well, I’ll show you around,” said Harriet. “In fact why don’t I give you the tour of the town? Hampton Cove has a lot of great stuff to offer, and I can show you all of it.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt you can, babe,” said Diego smoothly, unashamedly checking out Harriet’s rear end and tail.
She giggled and tapped his shoulder. “You’re funny.”
“Thanks. I get that a lot. Especially from the ladies.”
“You think I’m a lady?” she asked as she led him out the window.
“I think you’re a babe. And a lady. A lady babe.”
She giggled again. “Oh, you’re just a regular riot, aren’t you?”
“Sugar pie?” Brutus managed hoarsely. “Honeybunch?”
But Harriet was gone.
We sat there in stunned silence for the space of all of five seconds.
“What just happened?” I finally asked.
“I think Harriet likes the new cat,” Dooley said sadly. He’d been through this before with Brutus, so he recognized the signs.
“This isn’t happening,” said Brutus. “Is it?”
He hadn’t been through this before. In fact this was probably the first time he’d been thrown over by someone, so the experience was entirely new. I know I should have gloated, after what he’d put us through, but I honestly couldn’t. The cat looked absolutely, positively sandbagged.
“It’s happening,” Dooley said, patting him on the back. “It just happened.”
“Oh, God,” he said, and I thought I heard an actual crack when the big lug’s heart broke.
Start Reading Purrfect Heat Now
Also by Nic Saint
Alice Whitehouse
Spooky Times
The Mysteries of Max
Purrfect Murder
Purrfectly Deadly
Purrfect Revenge
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
Purrfect Heat
Washington & Jefferson
First Shot
Ghosts of London
Between a Ghost and a Spooky Place
Public Ghost Number One
Ghost Save the Queen
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
A Tale of Two Harrys
Ghosts vs. Spies
The Ghost Who Came in from the Cold
Tate-à-Tate
Enemy of the Tates
Witchy Fingers
Witchy Trouble
Witchy Hexations
Witchy Possessions
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
Witchy Riches
The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse
One Spoonful of Trouble
Two Scoops of Murder
Three Shots of Disaster
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
A Twist of Wraith
A Touch of Ghost
A Clash of Spooks
Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)
The Stuffing of Nightmares
A Breath of Dead Air
An Act of Hodd
Box Set 3 (Books 7-9)
Standalone Novels
When in Bruges
Once Upon a Spy
The Whiskered Spy
About Nic
Nic Saint is the pen name for writing couple Nick and Nicole Saint. They’ve penned 60+ novels in the romance, cat sleuth, middle grade, suspense, comedy and cozy mystery genres. Nicole has a background in accounting and Nick in political science and before being struck by the writing bug the Saints worked odd jobs around the world (including massage therapist in Mexico, gardener in Italy, restaurant manager in India, and Berlitz teacher in Belgium).
When they’re not writing they enjoy Christmas-themed Hallmark movies (whether it’s Christmas or not), all manner of pastry, comic books, a daily dose of yoga (to limber up those limbs), and spoiling their big red tomcat Tommy.
www.nicsaint.com
Copyright © 2017 by Nic Saint. All rights reserved.
Published by Puss in Print Publications.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.
This is
a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Editor: Chereese Graves.
