by Flynn, Mac
"I'm afraid a lot of people are going to take them without that grain of salt," Andy pointed out.
"This-this is awful!" I paced the room and tripped over the junk. "I have to-" I paused and glanced over my shoulder at Andy. "Do you mind? I need to be alone to plan my next move."
Andy chuckled and backed up to the door. "No problem, but if you ever need an ear I've got two to spare."
"I'll remember that."
He reached the door, peeked out to see if the coast was clear, and gave a wave. "Well, be seeing you around."
"Bye," I replied. He closed the door behind himself and I had hardly resumed my twitchy pacing when the entrance opened and Andy peeked his head in.
"But what if I don't see you again?" he countered. "I'd hate to see you handle this all by yourself."
I stomped over to the door and shoved my smiling face into his. "We'll always have the hallway." Then I slammed it shut, and he was quick enough to pull his head back before I gave him a cut above the shoulders.
"Knock on the walls if you ever need me," he called through the door.
"I will." Hell, I could tap on these thin walls and he'd hear me. I turned, lay my back against the door and sighed. I glanced down at the crinkled magazines and frowned at my smiling face. This called for action, specifically running to my, as the magazines put it, boy toy, and asking him what the hell was going on.
Tomorrow was Sunday so no classes to get in the way of my mission. I put most of my apartment back together and headed out to John's house. Someone beat me to it because there was a familiar black car parked in the driveway. Uncle Cecil was here. I let myself in and heard voices in the living room off to my right, and found Cecil and John seated around the coffee table. There was a stack of newspapers and magazines on the table between them, and John angrily gestured to them. I could see our faces on the gossip pages.
"Isn't there something you can do about this?" he asked his uncle.
Cecil raised a brow. "What do you propose? That we muzzle the entire newspaper and gossip industry?"
John stood and threw up his arms. "I don't know, just anything to keep Angel from finding out."
"Too late," I piped up. I walked into the room and nodded at the stacks. "Some of my neighbors were nice enough to jump me last night and tell me the good news."
John walked over to me and set his hands on my shoulders. "We'll deal with this somehow," he insisted. He turned to his uncle and the frown deepened. "How did they learn about this?" John grumpily asked his uncle.
Cecil shrugged. "Perhaps from our old friend Monroe, or perhaps someone else on the board. Miss Calhoun was present during that intense board meeting, and perhaps several of the members assumed she was more than your secretary."
I was suddenly reminded of something furry and missing, and glanced around the room. "Where's Sassy?" I asked John. At that moment I heard a distinct yowl from upstairs, and frowned at him. "Is she still trapped in the bedroom?"
John's face drooped. "What else was I to do? The beast refuses to listen to my commands."
"That's because she's a cat. She'll listen to your commands only if you promise her food."
John cringed. "Food. . ."
A look of horror crossed over my face. "Yeah, food. You know, that life-sustaining necessity. You have fed her today, haven't you?" There was an awkward silence between us, interrupted only by a cough from Cecil.
Cecil stood and glanced between us with a barely-restrained smile. "If you'll excuse me, I believe my work here is done. I'm no use taming lions." He hurried out of the room, leaving the newspapers and magazines for our enjoyment.
I nodded my head at where he'd left. "Does he even know what we were talking about?" I asked John.
John nodded. "I told him about you bringing a cat here."
"Me bringing a cat here? I distinctly recall you being my copilot."
"I was an unwilling accomplice, and I demand you deal with the monster you've loosed upon my house."
"I'm not an exterminator, though Sassy seems up for the job," I pointed out. "Besides, how bad has she been?" John scowled and pulled up one of his sleeves. There were some nice scratches on top of the ones he'd gotten at the shelter. "Maybe the scars will protect you from the sunlight?" I suggested. He looked at me with a long, disbelievingly face, and I sighed. "All right, I'll help you bond with the cat."
"I'd rather you take it with you," he insisted.
"Were you at all lonely while I was gone?"
"No, worse. The thing yowled all night."
"Then the cat's doing its job, so it's not leaving. It just needs some love."
"And de-clawed," he grumbled.
I grabbed his hand and dragged him from the room. "Come on, Lion Tamer, let's tame us a kitty."
CHAPTER 4
We walked up the stairs to the cell, and John's brooding changed to concern. "How much have you heard about the gossip?"
"Enough to question whether my entire life is a lie, or the magazines pay by the lie," I quipped.
"Are you bothered by it?" he asked me.
I shrugged as I led us down the hall to the closed bedroom door. "It was a little rough with my neighbors, but a new neighbor saved me before they started taking souvenirs off my famous personage."
"New neighbor?" he wondered.
"Another new surprise. The angry couple beside me moved out while I was gone and a new guy moved in."
"What's this guy look like?"
We stood in front of the cell door and I smirked. "Jealous?"
"That depends on what he looks like."
"He's young, cute, and very helpful."
"A repulsive combination."
"I thought you'd say something like that."
"It's not entirely stemming from jealous. The timing of a new tenant close to you-"
"-next to me," I corrected him.
"Next to you is very convenient," he pointed out. "Do you know anything about this man?"
"Only that his name is Andy Parker and he thinks I ask too many questions. Anyway, let's focus on your cute little kitty, shall we?"
"Are we talking about the same cat?"
"Yes, now behave." John smirked, wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me up against his firm chest. I playfully scowled at him. "This isn't behaving."
"I guess I'm just a naughty boy. How are you going to punish me?"
"By opening this door and releasing the beast." I grabbed the knob and flung open the door. John must have expected a bomb to go off and shrapnel to fly everywhere because he pulled us both against the wall beside the door. He was relieved when nothing shot out at us, and I pulled myself off him. "All right, Mr. Bond, enough theatrics. Let's see if your poor kitty is still alive." I peeked around the corner and glimpsed the cat sitting on the bed with its tail twitching. The sheets were off the bed, the rug on the floor was folded up after use as a slide, the curtains were on the ground, and pillow feathers lay everywhere. John came up behind me and cringed.
"You go in first," I suggested.
He shook his head. "With all these gossip columns after information you'll need practice dealing with news reporters. This would be a perfect time to learn."
"How is this practice?"
"If the cat jumps on you then you can learn to shake him off."
"Very funny, now go in there and bond with your kitty." I opened the door and pushed him in. Sassy meowed, jumped off the bed, and went up to him and purred his leg. He stiffened and glanced at me with the face of a scared child. "Don't be afraid, she can smell your fear," I whispered to him.
He rolled his eyes and some of the fear lifted from his expression. "What am I supposed to do now?" he asked me in an equally quiet voice.
"Haven't you ever been around cats?" I asked him.
"Never."
"You've led a sad, sheltered life."
"I'm very much aware of that, but what do I do?"
"You pet her."
"And then?"
"Hope she do
esn't chew your hand to bits."
"Are we sure I didn't buy a shredder instead of a cat?" he wondered.
"I'm pretty sure shredders don't need to have you clean their litter box, now stop being a sissy and pet that Sassy," I insisted. John reached down and ran his hand over the smooth, silky fur of the calico. Sassy yowled in glee and pushed her head up into his hand. I saw a ghost of a smile cross John's lips, especially when he raised his hand and Sassy reared up so her head could still be petted. "See? Not so bad," I told him.
"How long am I supposed to pet her?"
"The cat wants you to stop some time after your arm falls off, but I recommend whenever you want."
John stopped and the cat yowled. I noticed a distinct difference in the yowl this time and glanced around the room. "Where's her food dish?" John paled, and I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled at him. "Did you remember to give her food and water?"
"My thoughts were more on my own survival than hers," he defended himself.
"Maybe she was threatening your survival because you hadn't fed her."
"So she wants food right now?" he guessed.
"I'd say she's wanted food for a while, but yes, she wants food right now. Both of you follow me and we'll see what we can do." I marched out of the bedroom and the two pets followed me to the kitchen. I retrieved the new water and food bowls off the counter where the boughten items had been left. "You just take a little food and a little water, and ta-da, a happy pet." I put the bowls on the ground and Sassy eagerly munched and drank to her heart's content.
"I suppose that's one problem solved, but what about the litter?"
"You're on your own there. I'm not scooping up litter for your cat," I refused. "Besides, judging by all the papers Cecil brought I'm going to have my hands full of reporters."
"You could always stay here. My property is safe," he suggested.
I tilted my head toward him and raised my eyebrows. "Remember how safe it was when Constance snuck in here all those times?"
"Safer than your apartment," he amended.
"I'll take the risks and learn how to beat off reporters with a stick. Besides, you two need more bonding time and I don't want to get in the way."
"You're never in the way," he insisted. He stepped over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I looked up into his sultry eyes and blushed.
"Shouldn't you be working on mergers or stock manipulation?" I teased him.
"Actually, I was just thinking about a merger," he whispered in a sultry voice.
"And I was just thinking about lunch. You hungry?" His libido said no, but his stomach said yes with a growl. "I'll take that as a yes." I slipped from his arms and glanced around the kitchen. "Now what should I burn first?"
Behind me John sighed. "If you won't have fun with me then I prefer you not burn down my house."
I glanced over my shoulder and scowled at him. "Are you offering to cook?" I snapped.
"I'm offering to save both of our lives and the cat's by making lunch."
"Good. Sassy and I will watch." I picked up the cat, who was done with her meal, and sat her on one of the stools around the kitchen island. I plopped myself down next to her. "Cook away."
His food was simple but edible, and I managed to avoid more advances and escape from the house clothed. It wasn't that I didn't want to have fun, but just that I didn't want to give more fuel to the reporters' fires. I had a creeping paranoia that I was always being watched, a fear that wasn't helped when I returned to my apartment and found a guy kneeling in front of the doorknob.
I have a light step and snuck up on him to where I tapped my finger on his shoulder. He started back, lost his balance and fell over. I noticed there were a few long, thin tools in his hands and an open toolkit at the foot of the door. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked him.
"Trouble here?" I swung around and found the speaker to be Andy. He glared down at the stranger, who grabbed his toolkit and scurried to his feet.
"N-no trouble, I swear," the man blubbered.
Andy jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Then leave." The stranger clutched his tools to his chest and hurried off.
"Hey, wait!" I yelled at the man, but he was soon out of sight. I turned to Andy with a deep frown. "I didn't even get to find out what he was doing."
Andy knelt down beside my knob and inspected the job. "It looks like he was trying to get into your apartment. Good thing I came along when I did."
"Why's that?" I asked him.
"To stop him from doing whatever he was going to do," Andy pointed out.
"And what do you think he was going to do?" It wasn't that I didn't trust Andy-wait, it was exactly that. John had instilled in me some of his paranoia and it zoomed in on Andy.
He shrugged. "Maybe get a scoop on your relationship with that rich guy. It's all the gossip columns are talking about."
"Must be a slow news day if they're talking about that because there's not much there," I countered.
Andy raised an eyebrow. "So there's something there?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "He's my employer so yes, we have a relationship, but I think he has a closer relationship with his cat." By a few centimeters under the skin.
"He has a cat?" Andy wondered.
I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, why?"
Andy waves his hands in front of himself and sheepishly grinned. "I didn't mean anything by it, I swear. I'm just as curious as the next person about these rich people, that's all."
"Well, I'm not rich so you don't need to find anything out about me," I pointed out.
"Not even over lunch?" The question popped out so fast and suddenly that my mouth dropped open. Andy laughed. "Why is that such a surprise? If you're not going out with your boss then why not me?"
"B-because I don't know you," I stuttered.
He shrugged. "What better time to know a person then over a hot plate of pizza? My treat."
"I don't know. That guy might come back," I pointed out. "Besides, I just ate and I'm-"
"That's fine, I don't mind eating a pizza by myself," Andy replied with a smirk. "And I wouldn't worry about that guy, but maybe there's another reason you don't want to go out with me?"
I opened my mouth to object, but realized that if I did that I'd be proving to myself and Andy that maybe the employer-employee relationship, or hell, even our friends-with-benefits relationship, was something more. I wasn't ready to admit that to myself and take the plunge closer to matrimony, or at least not ready to admit that to Andy. "Fine, what place were you thinking about?"
"What places do you usually frequent?"
"A dirty little hole near the college campus."
"Do you go to school there?" he wondered.
"There you go with those questions again," I scolded.
"All right, you win, no more questions. We'll just go and get a pizza," he promised.
That didn't last long. He was more curious than a five year old, and tossed me curve balls where he made it sound like he was making a statement when he expected me to answer in the affirmative or negative. Mild comments like if I'd been at the apartment building long enough to know the problems, or if I'd been having fun in whatever level of classes I was taking. Over pizza I batted away so many roundabout questions that I wished for a relief batter to trade me places. He asked about everything from my favorite color to where I was born, but at least he avoided the age thing.
By the time the pizza was finished off I was mentally exhausted. I glared at him over the empty pizza platter. "One more question and I leave you here to fend for yourself," I promised him. That was an entirely empty threat. The place was packed as usual and there were some rough customers from the varsity football team.
"Just one more?" he pleaded.
I sighed, slumped down over the table, but nodded my head. "One more," I agreed.
"Where did you get that car? It drivers like a dream."
I'd foolishly offered to drive him to the pizza place because
he didn't know the way. I glanced up and out the large windows to where I'd parked the car. That was possibly the most incriminating question Andy could have asked me. "It was a gift from a, um, an uncle," I lied.
He raised an eyebrow. "You have a rich uncle?" he wondered.
"Um, yeah?"
"Because that car costs a fortune."
"Does it?" I squeaked.
"Yeah, and it's favored by the ultra-rich in the city. I think only one dealership carries it."
I narrowed my eyes and leaned over the table toward him. "You sure do know a lot about these things," I pointed out.
He leaned back and sheepishly grinned. "It's a hobby of mine. Like I said yesterday, I read all the trashy magazines at the checkout lines and there was an article about those cars recently."
My suspicions weren't abated, but I backed off. "It's a bad hobby reading about other peoples' lives. You might forget about your own."
Andy shook his head. "No, I'm pretty firmly planted in my own little world."
"Speaking of own little world, what do you do for a living?" All this time he'd been interrogating me I hadn't had a chance to ask him questions.
"I'm a jack-of-all-trades and a master of none, so I work whatever job I can find," he admitted.
"And what are you doing right now?" I persisted.
"Watching out for you, of course. You've had quite a few run-ins at the apartment building, so I've decided to become your own personal guardian angel."
I would have laughed at the idea if it didn't set off alarm bells with its ring of stalker treatment. "I appreciate the times you've helped me out, but you don't need to keep going to the trouble. I'm sure I'll be just fine."
"It was my pleasure, Trix."
"Trixie," I corrected him. "The short name makes me feel like running down kids for their cereal." He laughed, but I didn't feel that usual fulfillment at making someone happy. "Anyway, how about we head back? I've had a long day and I'm kind of tired."
