The Lucky Cat

by L. M. Somerton

  “Be good, brat. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m not working tomorrow so if you want to catch that film…”

  “I’ll call you. Don’t know how things will pan out with the case yet.”

  “Okay.” Landry moaned into the kiss that followed. Gage groped Landry’s ass.

  “And don’t forget the choice you made at the restaurant.”

  “You meant that?” Landry gulped. Gage treated him to a far more chaste kiss before stepping away.

  “I meant it.” Then he was gone, leaving Landry to deal with another erection and a mild sense of panicked anticipation.

  Chapter Six

  On Sundays, Landry had a routine. A long morning spent lounging in bed with coffee and a book before facing the day. He liked to clean the apartment and do laundry before taking a shower around lunchtime, and he didn’t feel guilty about keeping the afternoon for himself. Today was different because Mr. Lao was heading for the airport and Landry helped carry his suitcase out to the sidewalk. He felt it wise to put on pants in order to accomplish the task without getting arrested and that alone was enough to upset his day.

  “You’ll lock up properly every night while I’m gone?” Mr. Lao asked for the third time.

  “Yessir. Cash in the safe at the end of the day until the secure courier comes at the end of the week. No wine, women or hanky-panky on the shop floor.”

  Mr. Lao gave him a cuff around the ear. “No wine, men or hanky-panky. I didn’t come down in the last shower—no creating loopholes in the rules.”

  Landry grinned. “It was worth a try. Here’s your cab.”

  “No need to sound so joyful you’re getting rid of me.” Mr. Lao got into the back of the cab while Landry manhandled his case into the trunk.

  “I’ll miss you, Mr. L.,” Landry said. It was the truth. He got on well with the old man and was more than a little anxious about being left in sole charge of the shop.

  Mr. Lao shut the cab door then wound down the window. “You’ll be fine. You have good instincts. Any real problems, call my cousin Soong.”

  “He lives in Florida and he’s eighty.” Landry couldn’t imagine Soong being much help in any kind of crisis.

  “Don’t be ageist, he’s more agile than he looks. Seriously, he can mobilize the family if you need them.”

  “Have a great trip and try not to worry. I’ll look forward to seeing all the goodies you bring back for the store.”

  Mr. Lao grunted then rolled up his window. As the cab pulled into the traffic, Landry headed around to the back of the building. There was a diner two blocks away that did a bargain breakfast and Landry had every intention of gorging himself while consuming several pots of coffee.

  “It’s far too early to be vertical,” he muttered as he headed inside to fetch his wallet and phone. With the scent of coffee enticing him, Landry trotted the two blocks to the diner. Once inside, he waved to Basim, the owner, before making his way to a window booth. Landry liked to people watch over a stack of pancakes dripping with syrup. He didn’t have to tell Basim his order and within ten minutes he had his pancakes and a side plate piled with crisp bacon strips. He got his own miniature jug of warm maple syrup. It was an indulgence reserved for Sundays, when he had time to eat at his leisure. Bacon was never to be hurried. That was the law. It was busy, so once he was done eating, Landry gave up his booth to a harried father wrangling six small boys in baseball uniforms. Landry took a seat at the counter, waiting for Basim to refill his coffee.

  “Busy morning, Bas.”

  “Good business, Landry, my boy. Plenty of dollars coming my way.” Basim grinned, revealing a gold tooth. Landry knew Basim sent money to his aging mother in Pakistan so he didn’t begrudge him a cent. “You want more food? You need fattening up.”

  “Is that you or your ma speaking?” Landry asked. He’d Skyped with Basim’s mother on occasion and though Basim had to translate, the theme was always the same. Landry was too thin, he needed more of Basim’s cooking, a mild breeze would blow him into traffic. Mothers were the same the world over.

  “What can I say? She lives to feed people. She thinks I, and everyone I know, are starving for the lack of her cooking.”

  “She knows you own a diner, right?”

  “But she’s not here supervising the cooking, therefore it can only be substandard.” Basim twirled one end of his substantial mustache. “She and my youngest brother are coming to visit in the summer. You must call in. There will be a big feast, all the delicacies from Faisalabad.” Basim smacked his lips together.

  “Sounds yum,” Landry said. “I’ll be there.”

  “And you bring your young man with you.”

  “Ah, I don’t have one of those… Well, I kinda did meet someone, but it’s new. Not sure it’ll last. Yet.”

  “Does he have a decent job? Good family?”

  “He’s a cop…”

  “Good, good.” Basim rubbed his hands together. “Cops are always hungry. Bring him here. I see my profits rising.”

  “Basim, you have no shame.” Landry hopped off his stool.

  “I am a proud capitalist, it is true.”

  “Well, in the interests of keeping you in the latest Nikes, Mr. Lao has gone on a trip. I’m looking after the shop on my own for a while, so would it be okay for me to order food? I know you don’t usually do take out…”

  “Say no more. You call and I’ll send one of the girls along, no problem.”

  “Thanks, Basim! I really appreciate that. Mr. Lao said I can close for an hour at lunchtime, but if there are customers in the store I can’t exactly throw them out.”

  “The customer is king… Or queen,” Basim added, after getting a glare from one of his staff. He sighed. “I am a repressed male.”

  “You are no such thing!” Laughing, Landry put some bills on the counter before heading to the door. “Have a good day, Basim.”

  “That I will, my young friend. That I will.”

  Landry sauntered along the sidewalk, pausing to admire an oil slick rainbow shimmering on the asphalt. He snapped a quick picture on his phone. It made him smile and put a bit more bounce in his step even though a light drizzle had started up. As he passed the front of Treasure Trove, he glanced at the lock holding the shutter in place. There was no sign of tampering and he gave a satisfied nod as he rounded the corner to the rear entrance. Once inside he decided to check that everything was tidy and ready for opening on Monday morning, then he’d be able to relax for the rest of the day.

  The shop was quiet. Landry wandered the aisles, breathing in the scent of old wood, leather and paper. He ran his hand over an eighteenth-century chest made of golden oak, the wood warm to his touch. He made a mental note to vacuum one of the bookcases, which he’d missed if the layer of fine dust on the shelves was anything to go by.

  “Probably got distracted by a customer,” he muttered. He locked the door between the shop and the rear of the building and was about to head upstairs to his apartment when he thought he heard scratching at the outside door. “I hope that’s not a rat.” He jerked the door open then yelped as a man crashed into him. Landry landed on his back in the hallway, banging his elbow as he fell. The other man landed on top of him.

  “Get offa me!” Landry yelped. His assailant was heavy.

  “Fuck, sorry.” The man scrambled clear, then stood. He offered Landry a hand. Cursing, Landry took it and was hauled to his feet.

  “Who the fuck are you and why are you…skulking at the door?”

  “Skulking?” The man grinned.

  Landry took in floppy blond hair, several shades darker than his own, and amused, hazel eyes. There was a resemblance to Rupert Penry-Jones, a British actor Landry had a crush on. Yum. “What would you call it?” Landry dusted himself off. Pain shot through his elbow. “Ow!”

  “Did you hurt yourself?” Concern crossed the blond’s handsome face.

  “No I didn’t hurt myself. I was an innocent bystander. You hurt me. You knocked me d
own, then squished me,” Landry complained, rubbing his sore arm. “Now, who the hell are you?”

  “James Ellery, at your service. Please accept my humblest apologies for my entrance.”

  “That accent…British. Why are you British?”

  “Um, because I was born in Colchester, which is a small county town in Essex, England.”

  “Okay, I admit that was a dumb question. Let’s get back to why you’re here.” Landry had to admit that James’ lopsided smile was charming.

  “I’m an investigator.” James fumbled in the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wallet. He flipped it open to reveal a photo ID. Landry stared at it.

  “That’s a terrible picture.”

  “It is,” James agreed. “I look like I have jaundice, but then I’d lay odds that your passport photograph doesn’t make you look like a runway model either.”

  “So you’re a private investigator?” Landry wasn’t going to mention that he didn’t have a passport. “That means you’re like Magnum, or Remington Steele.”

  “How much ancient TV do you watch?”

  “Hey, they’re classics. You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here, in my hallway, in Seattle.”

  “I was told you have great coffee here.”

  “That’s it, get out.” Landry attempted to shove James out of the door but the investigator had at least eight inches on him and quite a few pounds. He didn’t budge.

  “Sorry, again. We’ve only just met and I’ve spent far too much time apologizing to you. Yes, I’m a private investigator but I work for insurance companies. I’m investigating the theft of some valuable jewelry and the trail has led me here.”

  “Not you too,” Landry muttered.

  “I arrived in the city last night and I’ve been checking out a few places. Today, I’m just getting my bearings because all the antique shops seem to be closed. I saw you come in here and I thought I’d introduce myself. Get ahead of the game, as it were.”

  “I don’t know anything,” Landry said. “I just work here, I don’t own the place.”

  “Then perhaps you could introduce me to the owner?”

  Landry wasn’t about to give information on Mr. Lao’s whereabouts to a complete stranger. “If you come back when the store’s open tomorrow, I’d be happy to answer any questions you have.”

  “We could go for a coffee. I’m buying. I have a great expense account.”

  “I don’t want to be rude, but this is my only day off all week and I have plans.” Somehow, James had edged further into the hallway.

  James blinked, then turned. “There’s somebody coming.”

  “Landry, I thought I warned you about security. The street gate was open. Am I going to have to tan your hide?” Gage stood in the doorway, blocking the daylight. “Who is this?” He didn’t sound pleased.

  “James Ellery. Landry and I were just negotiating a first date.” James turned to face Gage. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “We were not!” Landry said. “Gage, this guy showed up at the door. He says he’s some kind of investigator but he’s clingier than gum on my shoe. I’ve tried to be polite, but he won’t leave.”

  James gave him a disarming smile. “Hey, I know when I’ve outstayed my welcome. Thanks for the invitation for tomorrow. I’ll see you then.” He slipped past Gage into the yard then was gone.

  Gage stepped into the hallway. “I know we just met, Landry, but…”

  “It’s not what it looked like,” Landry protested. “Not at all.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m glad you arrived because he was starting to scare me. Really. I couldn’t get rid of him. He showed me some ID and told me he was an investigator for an insurance company looking into missing jewelry. He wanted to ask me questions and he was very persistent.”

  “Come here.” Gage held his arms open and Landry walked into them. “I’m sorry I misinterpreted the situation. I’m kind of possessive.”

  Landry nuzzled against Gage’s chest. “Just a tad.”

  “He sounded British.”

  “He was. Is. From Colchester. I don’t know where that is.”

  “I’ll check him out, make sure he is who he says he is.”

  “I’d appreciate that. He’s probably going to show up again tomorrow.” Landry extricated himself from Gage’s hold. “Are you working?”

  “No. I’m here for our next date. I brought snacks. Enough for some serious film viewing. That’s if you’re still up for it, of course. Though that’s possibly not the best choice of phrases because you’re not going to be up for anything for a while.” Gage smirked.

  “What do you have in that bag?” Landry asked.

  “Chocolate popcorn, Twinkies, Cheetos, macadamia cookies and a pretty, stainless steel chastity tube.”

  “I…” Landry thought he might have a chance of making a run for it. If he were quick. Then Gage pushed the door shut with his ass.

  “It was your choice.”

  “The snacks sound good.”

  “Are you going to lead the way to your apartment, or do I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you up there?”

  Landry sighed. “I’m on the top floor, remember? There’s no elevator.”

  Gage shrugged. “I can caveman with the best of them.”

  “I’m sure. But no carrying. I just ate and you don’t need me barfing down the back of your shirt.” Landry made sure to wiggle his butt a little as he climbed the stairs. Muted cursing from behind him told him it was having the desired impact. When he got to his door, Gage was right behind him.

  “What was that noxious smell on the landing below?” Gage asked.

  “Mr. Lao lives there and he has a thing for incense burners, joss sticks, scented candles…anything stinky. No idea why. It makes me sneeze but I’m developing immunity.”

  “He should pay you to live here. No one else would put up with that smell.”

  “My apartment comes with my job, so he kinda does. It could be worse. What if he was addicted to smoked herring, or Cuban cigars? Bleh.” Landry headed inside his apartment. “You want to put the snacks in the kitchen? I’ll line up some DVDs.” He scuttled into the living room, which wasn’t too untidy. The old couch was still comfortable and piled with cushions and colorful throws. An antique seaman’s chest acted as a coffee table. Landry slipped the disc for Labyrinth into his DVD player then turned on a lamp. The windows weren’t big and outside the sky had darkened as drizzle turned to rain. It’s a great day to snuggle and watch movies.

  He ventured to the kitchen where Gage had found an assortment of odd bowls to fill with snacks. There were enough goodies to feed a whole tribe, let alone the two of them, but Landry had no objection to that kind of challenge.

  “They look yum. What about drinks? I could make hot chocolate, or I have sodas.”

  “Hot chocolate for me,” Gage said. His hip made contact with Landry as they squeezed around each other in the small space. “You’ve got marshmallows, right?”

  “Do bears sit in the woods?” Landry reached for the tin on a high shelf. His top rode up, exposing bare midriff. Behind him, Gage slipped his arm around Landry’s waist and pressed a warm hand over his belly. Landry giggled. “I’m ticklish there!”

  “Couldn’t resist. Warm, naked skin is meant to be touched.”

  Landry leaned back against Gage’s body. “You’re warm too.” He didn’t want Gage to move his hand but it had to happen if he was going to make drinks, or do anything requiring coordination, because he couldn’t focus on anything but the sensation of skin on skin.

  “Are you purring?” Gage chuckled.

  “Maybe?”

  “Make the drinks, brat. I’ll take the snacks through to the living room.” The instant Gage left the kitchen, Landry missed him. He bounced on his toes waiting for the milk to boil because he wanted to get back to touching. The chocolate took a decade to melt in the milk and Landry regretted offering the drink at all—soda would have taken a fraction of the time.
In his haste to get to the living room he banged his arm on the doorframe—the same arm that he’d hurt when James Ellery had landed on him.

  “Fuckety fuck!” He put the chocolate down on the makeshift coffee table then rubbed at the offending limb.

  “Did you hurt yourself?” Gage was on his feet in an instant.

  “The English dude landed on me when he fell through the door.”

  Gage pushed Landry’s sleeve up. He was gentle as he manipulated Landry’s arm. “You have quite a bruise. It’s going to be sore for a while—do you have an ice pack?”

  “I have Band-Aids and Tylenol. That’s it.”

  “I’ll have to get you a proper first aid kit. You should be better prepared.”

  “I work in an antique store—it’s not that dangerous an environment.”

  “But you’re seeing a cop and I have been known to pick up the odd scrape or two. I think you’d enjoy playing nurse.”

  “I’m not dressing up for you! I’m kinky but even I have boundaries.”

  Gage snorted with laughter. “I’m not sure a nurse costume is that much of a boundary, but don’t panic, it’s not my thing.” He sat, pulling Landry onto his lap. “I don’t like that he hurt you, even if it was accidental.”

  “He’s coming to the shop tomorrow. I said I’d answer his questions. It was the only way I could think to get rid of him. I wish I’d known you were coming because if I’d waited five more minutes, I wouldn’t have offered.”

  “You don’t have to talk to him,” Gage said. “He’s not law enforcement. You can tell him to take a hike if you want to.”

  “Then he’ll keep coming back and I can’t tell him anything useful. Once he knows that, he’ll find someone else to harass and besides, he’ll have to fit in between customers. With any luck it’ll be too busy for me to spare him much time. Let’s forget him and enjoy our day—I have so many films you need to watch.”

  “There’s something else we need to talk about first.” Gage had put his satchel next to the couch. He groped inside it, pulling out a package that he handed to Landry. “Take a look.”