“You used to,” Amanda counters.
“Don’t go there, Amanda. I’m not in the mood to get in a fight with you. I’m trying to find my Zen right now. I need kitties.”
“Fine,” she capitulates. “But tell me, are you liking this program so far? Do you think it’s helping?”
Finally finding a spot a few cars down from the building, I put my blinker on and start the process of parallel parking. I’m a genius at it, so I have no doubt that I can fit in the space I’m attempting right now.
“I don’t know if it’s helping just yet. We haven’t done much but talk, write letters, and try to let go of what’s been holding us back.”
“Are you comfortable there?”
“For the most part. Unfortunately, I was put in a group with my douchebag coworker, Carter. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to be in the program and is just trying to skate through, so it’s hard sharing deep, personal stuff with a guy who couldn’t care less. I have to see him nearly every day, so there is no separation from the pain.”
“Carter?” Amanda asks. “I think Daisy was texting him yesterday and giggling.”
“Daisy was texting Carter? Like back and forth?”
“It seemed like it.”
Carter texting Daisy? Now there is something I never thought I would see. Daisy and Carter couldn’t be any more opposite than fire and water. Just after getting to know Daisy briefly, it’s obvious she’s too sweet, way too innocent, and way too inexperienced to be a friend to Carter. Carter is your typical asshole with a vendetta against life. He’s never been someone you want to hold a conversation with and if he’s given the chance, he would rather ignore you than actually engage, unless it’s to pick a fight. He’s really good at picking fights, especially when it involves throwing fists.
“Daisy should stay away from him.”
“Really?” Amanda asks a little surprised. “She seemed to think he was a good guy.”
Spinning the steering wheel, I back into the spot perfectly and put my car in park. “I like your sister, Amanda. She’s na?ve but so full of hope and joy, which is infectious. She’s one of the bright sides of the program. Carter is not someone she should be around. He’s someone who can easily squash the sunshine out of her.”
“Really? It didn’t seem like that. She seemed happy when she was texting him.”
“I’m telling you, Amanda, he’s bad news. So not someone for Daisy.” I gather my purse off the passenger seat next to me, glance at my side mirror, and check for cars. When the coast is clear, I get out, lock up, and jog across the street to Denver’s Cat Company. “Listen, I’m at the Cat Company and I don’t want to be that person who walks in on their cell phone.” Hammering home my concern, I add, “I don’t want to hurt Daisy’s relationships, maybe I’m wrong about Carter, maybe he’s changing. I would be shocked if he was, but I just want you to know that she should be careful. That’s all. I’ve seen him in bad moods before and you don’t want Daisy near him when he’s like that.”
“Okay. I’ll be sure to warn her. Thanks, Hollyn.”
“Anytime. Now, I must get to petting pussy.”
“Every time. You say it every time you go in there.”
I laugh and hop in place, trying to stay warm despite the winter chill. “It’s tradition. I’m going now though, I’m freezing. Talk to you later.”
Hanging up, I slip my phone in my pocket, and open the door. The atmosphere is very laid-back. The first portion of the shop is a mini café where you can buy drinks and look at all the profiles of the cats frequenting the café. They are all rescued and up for adoption. Every time I come, I’m tempted to adopt a kitty but I refrain, fearing being labeled a crazy cat lady. I’m trying to avoid that right now.
As always, I grab a strawberry-kiwi Snapple from the cooler, pay the cover charge, and head up to my favorite spot in the corner—my favorite spot currently occupied by a rather large man with his head down, twirling a cat toy for a little black and white kitty. Ugh, why today does someone have to take up my space?
Irritated, I watch for a second as the man’s forearms flex with each movement. Why do I know those forearms? I shouldn’t by any means recognize forearms, I haven’t fawned over forearms in quite some time, but I recognize these. Scanning the gentleman from head to toe, I take in his Nike shoes, dark grey sweatpants, pushed-up sleeves of a black Henley, and since his head his bowed, I only see the top of his black baseball cap.
Jace?
No, that can’t be Jace. Can it?
I step forward, hoping and praying it’s Jace because I don’t want to be the creeper approaching a random stranger at a cat café for no reason. As I make my way toward him, a floorboard beneath me creaks, gathering his attention. I know it’s Jace the minute he lifts his head. Those dark blue, tortured eyes penetrate me from beneath his bill, the scruff on his face letting me know he hasn’t shaved since our last meeting, and the defeated slump in his shoulders showing he still carries his dreadful pain.
“Hollyn?”
“Hey, Jace.” Feeling a little awkward, I say, “I didn’t know you frequent the Denver Cat Company.”
He chuckles, a light smile peeking up at me. “I don’t. This is my first time here. I was just . . .” He pauses and then leans back in his chair, running his hand over his face, lifting his hat ever so slightly off his forehead. “Hell, I was wandering around, looking for something to take my mind off things. I saw this place and thought I’d give it a try.” Looking up at me through his impossibly long lashes, he asks, “How weird do I look in here?”
I look around and wince. We’re surrounded by women with children who are walking around with the cats, trying to get them to play with the myriad of toys offered for visitors. He looks incredibly out of place.
“Uh, weird might not be the correct word,” I smile, “but you make it work.”
He chuckles again and then pats the seat next to him. “Take a seat, make me look a little less awkward.”
Happy to have the company, I take the seat next to him and set down my drink on the floor. I watch him dance a ribbon in front of a cat, teasing it masterfully.
In a joking, low baritone voice, he asks, “So, do you come here often?”
A little chuckle comes out of me as I shake my head. “Yeah, my friend Amanda thinks it’s one step away from becoming a crazy cat lady, but I can’t help it. I feel like I can just sit back and forget about everything around me when I’m here. Just play with cats.”
“How often do you pet pussy?” Jace asks with a wince, causing both of us to laugh.
“I say the same ridiculous joke. My friend Amanda, Daisy’s half-sister actually, chastises me every time I say it. But how can you not? It’s such an easy joke.”
“It’s pretty unavoidable. Honestly, you’re too much of a square if you’re not making that joke.”