“Yes.” She beamed. “That the Jack mixes with everything but good decisions. Don’t worry though—I never mix the two.”
Elle snorted and opened the door. “Take care, Mrs. Winslow.”
When they were inside with the door shut, Elle shook her head at Spence. “You shouldn’t encourage her.”
“She’s still mourning.”
“I know. And I also know that you’re bringing her food and taking care of her. It’d be incredibly sweet if I didn’t also know you were the one who got her ‘the Jack.’ ”
“It was what her husband used to drink,” he said. “She’s having a hard time. So I bring her stuff.”
Okay, so the guy saved people from the fountains and old ladies from grief. He seemed too good to be true, which—in Colbie’s experience—meant he wasn’t to be trusted. She needed to remember that when he looked at her with those startlingly clear eyes.
Shaking that off, she took in the place. It was small but also . . . cozy. The furniture was sparse but nice. Really nice. The bed looked brand-new, and sitting on top of the mattress was an unopened set of good-quality sheets and a pair of down pillows. A bar-top counter divided the kitchen from the living area, and there was a dumbwaiter that fascinated her and . . .
A black cat.
“That’s the cat who spooked Daisy Duke into charging Colbie,” Spence said. “It must’ve come up on the fire escape.” He headed to the opened kitchen window to check it out. “Do you know who it belongs to, Elle?”
“No. I’ve never seen it before.”
“I’ll get it and take it outside—” Spence broke off when he turned back around and found Colbie holding the cat.
“It’s a she,” she said, hugging the poor thing. “And she’s so thin and gangly that I think she’s just a teenager.”
Elle shook her head. “Don’t worry. She’s not your responsibility—”
“Oh, she’s totally welcome to share the place with me,” Colbie said and, still holding the cat, walked across the floor.
Her floor.
She looked out the window and took in the view. God, the view. She couldn’t wait to get out there, to listen to tidbits of conversation as people walked by, letting it all stoke the flames of her imagination as she wrote.
It was such an ache that she nuzzled the cat to hide the fact that her eyes were burning with relief.
She really had done the right thing by coming here.
“So what do you think?” Elle asked.
“Are you kidding? I love it. I’ll take it.” Colbie took a peek in the bathroom. Catching a glimpse of herself and the black cat in the mirror, she smiled.
The cat stared at her, not unfriendly but not exactly ready to be besties either. “It’s okay,” Colbie told her. “I’ll grow on you.” She moved to leave the bathroom but stopped when she heard Elle talking.
“She didn’t even ask how much.”
“So?” Spence asked.
“So, you don’t think that’s . . . weird?”
Colbie—and the cat—walked into the room and looked at Elle. “How much?”
Elle had the good grace to grimace. “Okay, maybe I’m a little overprotective.”
“I get it,” Colbie said. “I’m the same. So really . . . how much? And do you want me to fill out an application?”
“Yes.” Elle pulled an app from her purse and named the price.
Colbie nodded. “I’ll fill this out and bring it to you with the cash for the month’s rent right away.”
“It’s getting late. In the morning will be fine,” Elle said. “And you don’t need to pay in cash. You can pay through an app or with a check.”
Colbie wasn’t ready for her world to track her. She’d brought cash. “Is cash a problem?”
Elle slid Spence a look, sighed, and shook her head. “No problem.”
Chapter 6
#SonOfACheez-It
Later Colbie got in her bed. The black cat had come and gone a few times. Worried about her, Colbie had left the window open just wide enough for her to seek shelter if she needed. Then she lay in bed in the dark thinking about her crazy day. Crazy but good, she decided. Shockingly good.
But that was because she hadn’t yet looked at her phone. Remembering, she got out of bed and fished the bag of rice from her purse. She pulled out the phone and turned it on.
Notifications began to fill her screen. She chose to start with a group text with her assistant, Tracy, and publicist, Janeen.
Tracy:
Hey, Editorial wants to know your projected delivery date for the manuscript.
Janeen:
Whoa, hold up there, missy. First I want to know Colbie’s projected delivery date for the articles and blogs she’s supposed to write for promo.
Tracy:
Don’t make me sorry I put you on this convo, Janeen. Colbs—I didn’t tell Editorial that you ran away from home to find yourself, because I didn’t want to set off a panic avalanche. Why should everyone panic when I’m doing enough for all of us?
Tracy:
P.S. At least tell me you’re on a warm beach somewhere with a really hot cabana dude pouring you wine?
Janeen:
Oh, you’re panicking, are you, Trace? How about me? Colbie hasn’t done a damn thing on her list! Listen, Colbs, I get it. You needed to get away. Fine. But at least go thru your damn e-mail and send me back the articles and posts I need pronto. P.S. Miss you, but I’d miss you more if you’d GO THROUGH YOUR E-MAILS.
Colbie answered with I’ll send everything soon, making sure not to define soon. Then she silenced her phone and slept like a baby, at least until around two a.m. when something shook her bed.
She sat straight up with a gasp and came nose-to-nose with the black cat.
“Meow.”
“You need a curfew,” Colbie said.
The cat, noncommittal, turned in a circle three times and then plopped on Colbie’s feet and closed her eyes.
Fine with her—her feet had been cold anyway. She fell back to sleep, waking only when daylight was streaming in through the window.
“Wow,” she said to the cat in genuine shock. “A whole night’s sleep, with the exception of your arrival. It’s a miracle.”
The cat looked pleased, like it’d been all her doing.
Colbie picked up her phone. She had texts from her brothers, which she ignored for now. Same with Jackson’s. “Whoa,” she said, surprised to see a text from her mom. Colbie had bought her an iPhone Plus so she could text with ease rather than always calling. So far her mom had refrained.
Until now, apparently.
Mom:
Love you that’s it send Siri send it Siri are you on crack send the message to Colbie
Colbie laughed and sent a return I love you text just as a certain black cat’s face came right up against hers, gold eyes very serious.
“Meow.”
“Let me take a wild guess. You’re hungry?”
The cat’s eyes said duh.
Colbie got up and showed the cat her bowls filled with water and the cat food she’d purchased last night at the store when she’d been stocking up for herself. “Do you feel like Cinderella?” she asked the cat. “Because I do.”
“Meow.”
Colbie smiled. “Maybe I’ll call you Cinder for short.”
With a low, approving chirp, Cinder dove into her food, apparently feeling as completely at home as Colbie did.