by Nic Tatano
The Empire State Cat’s Christmas Gift
Book Two
BY NIC TATANO
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
www.harpercollins.co.uk
HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2016
Copyright © Nic Tatano 2016
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2016
Cover design by Holly Macdonald
Nic Tatano asserts the moral right to
be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International
and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
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No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
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whether electronic or mechanical, now known or
hereinafter invented, without the express
written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © November 2016 ISBN: 9780008200664
Version 2016-10-18
PRAISE FOR NIC TATANO’S DEBUT WING GIRL
‘One of the top 20 books of 2013’
I Heart … Chick Lit
‘E-book novel of the year’
Chick Lit Chloe
‘I truly adored this novel…One of my favourite books this
year, for sure.’
Chick Lit Reviews
‘The heroine is sassy, the dialogue is razor-sharp and the
romance is sweet. Well worth a read.’
Chick Lit Club
‘Fast and funny’
Wondrous Reads
For Gypsy, Pandora, Bella, Buttons, Snoopy, and J.R., my furry companions through life …
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Praise for Nic Tatano’s Debut Wing Girl
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Bonus Material
About the Author
Also by Nic Tatano
About HarperImpulse
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Socks the cat (full name: Socks Fifth Avenue) had endured an awful night. Fortunately, she had managed to awaken her person after the fire had started in the house. They’d gotten out seconds before lightning hit the large tree which fell and destroyed the bedroom. The storm was bad enough, but spending the night in the hotel with the constant slamming doors and voices from the next room had left her unnerved. The saving grace was that her person had lavished her with so much love and attention, thankful that Socks had saved their lives.
To make things worse, she was now riding in her pet carrier—which all cats loathe—but was hopefully on her way to more peaceful surroundings.
Tish McKenna entered her law office in the Empire State Building with a pet carrier in one hand while wheeling a large suitcase with the other. Her petite doe-eyed assistant, Shelley Downs, got up to greet her tall blonde boss with a hug. “Tish, thank God you’re okay. You could have been killed.”
Tish held up the pet carrier to eye level. “It’s all thanks to this little one. I didn’t even know the house was on fire until she woke me and about thirty seconds after we got out a tree fell and crushed the bedroom.” She turned and looked at her fur baby, a young black-and-white tuxedo cat with four white paws. “Someone is going to be treated really well for the rest of her eight lives.”
“Like you don’t already spoil her.” Shelley shoved her long chestnut hair behind her ears and poked her finger through the carrier grate. “Hey, Socks. You’re quite the little heroine. Much better than a smoke alarm.” The cat meowed and licked her finger. “So I guess you couldn’t leave her in the hotel.”
“No, all the noise from the other rooms freaked her out all night and you know that she’d escape when housekeeping came through.”
“So where are you gonna keep her?”
“In my office, for now.”
“Seriously, Tish? A cat in a law firm?”
“Look, it will be months before my house is repaired and I can’t leave her there with all the construction going on. So I’ll be with her during the day and we’ve got the law student working here in the evenings to keep her company. I already talked to him and he loves cats. She can stay in my office and I’ll see clients in the conference room for now. And I’m staying with Madison and Nick on the weekends so she’ll come home with me every Friday and back on Monday morning. She can’t get out of this office because the cleaning crew only works on Saturdays and she’ll be with me then.”
“Okay, but what if the landlord finds out you have a cat in the building? I would imagine that would be against the rules in your lease.”
“You forget I kept his ex-wife from cleaning him out a few years ago. So the guy owes me big time. I could keep a family of ring-tailed lemurs in here and he wouldn’t say a word.”
“Right, I forgot you were his lawyer. Hey, I just thought of something… the cat you named Socks Fifth Avenue actually gets to live on Fifth Avenue for a while.”
“Yep. Monday to Friday anyway.”
“Uh, one more thing. I have one obvious logistical question regarding something unpleasant as it applies to the care and feeding of cats. Specifically the care part.”
“Litter box goes in my storage closet.”
Shelley’s face tightened. “And who—”
“Don’t worry, Shelley, you don’t have to scoop the litter box. I’ve got one of those battery powered gadgets that scoops every time she uses it. It’s got some sensor so it knows when she leaves. All I have to do is refill the litter and occasionally empty the thing.”
“Damn, cats have it better than us.”
“In some ways. But a lot of cats aren’t so lucky and need a home. You should get one.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. It would be nice t
o have someone to come home to.”
“Anyway, the automatic litter box is with her stuff in the suitcase.”
“Socks has her own suitcase?”
“Hey, she has her needs. Litter box, litter, food, dishes, toys, bed, it’s all in there. Luckily it was all in the part of the house that wasn’t damaged, so I went back in after they put the fire out and got her supplies. A cat can’t just leave home with the fur on her back, you know. What would the other cats think?”
“So, no car seat? Video games?”
“Stop it. Anyway, I’ve got to be in court in an hour in front of that new judge.”
“That poor witness. Facing you in a bad mood.”
“I can take out my frustrations. Anyway, if you can help me get Socks set up I’d appreciate it.”
Tish and Shelley headed into her office and closed the door, then let Socks out of the carrier. The cat slowly stepped out onto the plush red carpet and immediately began to explore her new surroundings.
Shelley rolled her dark eyes as she sat on the edge of the desk.
“What?” asked Tish.
“It just hit me. If anyone finds out about this, we’re going to be known as the cat lady law firm.”
“Two single women in their mid-thirties who share an office with a cat. Not exactly a stretch.”
“Speak for yourself, Tish.”
*
Spencer Capshaw and his partner Ariel Nix headed toward the courtroom on a reconnaissance mission.
The two thirty-five year old lawyers needed to check out the new judge in town, as they had an upcoming case on her docket. If a judge was one who didn’t play by the rules, or was a major pain, they needed to know in advance.
Spencer held the door for Ariel as they entered the crowded courtroom and took seats in the last row, already filled with a bunch of lawyers who’d obviously had the same idea. He tried to get comfortable on the ancient, hard wooden bench that was worse than a church pew, stretching out his lean five-foot-ten frame. “So, what did you dig up on this judge from your friends?”
“Not much you’re going to like, Spence. The term ballbuster did come up a lot.”
“So she’s really tough on the guys, huh?”
“That comment came from the women.”
He ran his hands through his dark, tousled hair. “Wonderful.”
“Oh, stop it. You always manage to charm even the crustiest female judge with that boy-next-door persona you’ve got going. You flash those big olive green eyes, give them the innocent look and it’s game over.” The tall, slender brunette crossed her legs and rocked a four inch red heel on her toe as she leaned back. Her hazel eyes focused on the front of the courtroom.
“Oh, like you don’t flirt with men on the jury.”
“I plead the fifth on the grounds you may be right. And that was just one juror.” He gave her a disbelieving look. “Okay, maybe two or three.”
“I think you’ve simply lost count.”
“All rise!” The bailiff’s voice echoed through the ancient courtroom. “Court is now in session. The honorable Rebecca Winston presiding.”
Conversation stopped as the judge entered, took her seat on the bench and looked at some paperwork through gold-rimmed bifocals as everyone in the room sat down. Judge Winston looked to be in her mid-forties, a slim, dark brunette with straight hair that curled under her chin.
A tall blonde attorney approached the bench. Spencer sat up straight as he locked in on her. Hair up, horn-rimmed glasses, ultra conservative blue suit with a knee-length skirt, pale silk blouse buttoned up to her neck. “Who is that?”
Ariel patted his hand. “Down, boy.”
Spencer figured what Ariel had heard about the judge was exaggerated, especially since the lawyers for both sides were women and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Judge Winston appeared to be tough but fair, and ran a tight ship. By the book, followed the law and kept things moving. If she had any political leanings, they weren’t evident. His kind of judge. All he ever wanted was a fair trial from someone who didn’t have an agenda.
But what captured his attention was the performance of the blonde attorney as she cross-examined the current witness. The middle-aged man on the stand squirmed in his seat and kept mopping his brow, as her laser-sharp questions kept his flop sweat on a steady flow. Spencer leaned over and whispered in Ariel’s ear. “Damn, she’s amazing. This is like the legal version of waterboarding.”
“The witness looks like he’s getting a prostate exam with a yardstick.”
He crossed his legs as his face tightened. “Thank you for that lovely mental picture.”
The attorney continued to hammer the witness, barely giving him time to finish his answer before hitting him with another question. The man stammered as he started to give a long, ridiculous answer to her question.
Then she turned to the jury, her back to the judge, pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, took off her glasses to clean them and gave the jury a world class eye roll.
They all smiled.
She finished cleaning her glasses as she turned back to the witness.
Spencer couldn’t help but admire her.
Ariel cocked her head at the attorney. “You catch that thing with the glasses and the look she gave to the jury? Pretty slick.”
“She’s got great eyes. I’ve never seen such a deep blue.”
“Oh for God’s sake, I was talking about the eye roll to the jury that the judge couldn’t see.”
“Yeah, that was a neat trick. She still has great eyes. You think she’s got colored contact lenses?”
“Duh, she’s wearing glasses, Sherlock.”
“Oh, right.”
“Geez, if you ever have to face her in court you won’t have a chance.”
The attorney finished up what could only be described as an inquisition of the witness and the judge looked at her watch. “I think this is a good stopping point,” said the judge. “We’ll recess for lunch and I want everyone back here at one-thirty sharp. And that does not mean one-thirty-one.”
The blonde attorney raised one finger. “Approach the bench before we go, your honor?”
“Make it quick, counselor. There’s a pastrami sandwich with my name on it in my chambers. Which I assume the bailiff remembered to order. And I hope he got one for himself.” The bailiff nodded and smiled as the crowd chuckled. The judge motioned for the attorney to come forward, put her hand over the microphone and leaned toward her. She listened for a minute, then nodded as the attorney went back to her desk. The judge looked up at the crowd. “It has been brought to my attention that there has been a good bit of distracting chatter from the back of the room. Apparently the last row in a courtroom is the same as the one in a classroom, filled with those hooligans who can’t keep quiet. Now I understand that since this is my first day there are a lot of attorneys here as you guys want to get a feel for the new sheriff in town. So let me say that if I hear so much as a whisper from a lawyer who is not involved in this case when we return from lunch, I will have no qualms about sending those who can’t shut the hell up for a mini-vacation in a rather uncomfortable cell. And speaking of cells, I’d better not hear any of those ring either.” She narrowed her eyes at the back row. “Do I make myself clear?”
The blonde attorney looked in Spencer’s direction. He turned and looked to both sides, as if searching for the culprit.
Ariel shook her head, wrote on her legal pad and slid it onto his lap.
Bus-ted.
Spencer handed his lunch menu to the waiter and turned to Ariel. “So, what did you think?”
“I thought the judge was very fair. I don’t think she was biased either way. If she has an agenda it will take a while for everyone to figure it out. And obviously she has no tolerance for people who disrupt her courtroom. I think she got a bad rap from the people I talked to. I wouldn’t have a problem with her.”
“Not the judge. What did you think about the attorney?”
“The
short brunette? Eh, she was okay.”
“I meant the other one.” His eyes widened as he flashed a slight smile.
“I know you did. Ah, I knew she was your type.”
“I don’t have a type.”
“Oh, bull. She’s just like all the other women you’ve dated.”
“I’ve never been out with a blonde.”
Ariel shook her head. “Nothing to do with hair color, sweetie. When it comes to what gets your motor running, they all have the same common denominator.”
“Enlighten me, counselor.”
“Let’s see…she checks all the boxes for you. Conservative outfit, skirt to the knee, practical heels, strand of pearls the only jewelry, pure old-school class. The kind of woman who wouldn’t be caught dead in a bikini or miniskirt even though she might have a killer body. Not stunning but attractive in a classic way. What you always refer to as quietly beautiful. Strong and independent, obviously in control. And the big one that really turns you on, she’s obviously smart and spunky as hell. Kicks ass and takes no prisoners. You have to agree the woman owned the courtroom. What she did to that witness probably violated the Patriot Act. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but she was tougher on a witness than you are, and you’re ruthless.”
“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with you.”
“Anyway, did I just describe your perfect woman?”
“Okay, I admit I’m attracted to really smart women who are pretty but aren’t flashy. However, that’s a really broad brush.”
“Ah, but the thing that drives all guys nuts…hair up and glasses. You fantasize that once the hair comes down and the glasses come off, she’s a hellcat in bed.”
He couldn’t hold back a sly smile. “Hence the term, let your hair down. And I’ve found it to be true in most cases.”
