"I'm sure he doesn't hate you." Nash takes a bite of the pie, his bite being a third of the pie. I've noticed he takes huge bites.
"He hates me," I say, resigned to the fact. "He stays in one of the bedrooms and never comes out except to eat. And even then, he ignores me. I feed him. I clean his litter box. And I get nothing in return. I say his name and he pretends he didn't hear me."
"Maybe he's deaf."
"He's not deaf. If he hears a dog bark or a loud truck, his ears perk up. So I know he's not deaf. He's just snubbing me."
"He seemed friendly when I was over there." Nash finishes his pie and holds his plate out for more. I serve him another piece. "He meowed at me and rubbed up against my leg."
My jaw drops. "No freaking way."
"Yeah. Came right up to me as I walked through the door."
I huff. "He's never once done that to me."
Nash chuckles. "Well, I don't know what to tell you. Maybe he's mad at you about something."
I pick up my fork. "Stupid Cat."
"What's his—" He stops before he asks a question. "I assume he has a name."
"Cat." I take a bite of the pie, letting the chocolate cream linger in my mouth.
"Yeah. The cat," Nash says. "His name is..."
"I just told you."
"No, you didn't."
"Yes. I did." I swirl my fork in the whipped cream, then dip it in the chocolate mixture and lick it off the fork.
"Callie, just tell me the cat's name."
"Cat." I turn to Nash. "That's his name. Cat. Okay? Now can we talk about something else?"
"Your cat's name is Cat?"
I sigh. "That was a question. But yes, his name is Cat."
"That's not a very original name."
"I didn't name him." I hold my hand up. "And don't ask who did. No more questions. Or questions concealed as declarative statements."
"That doesn't leave us with much to talk about." He takes the last bite of his pie.
"I can't believe Cat. He's nice to a total stranger but not me? That doesn't make sense."
"You want a brownie?" Nash asks, getting up.
"A brownie? I'm not even done with my pie."
"I'll bring them out anyway in case you want one." He returns with a large plastic container.
"You made brownies?" I ask. "I thought your oven didn't work."
"I didn't make these. Some woman made them and brought them over."
"What woman?"
"I met her after lunch today, just outside of Lou's. She was on her phone and almost got hit by a car. I yanked her out of the street just in time." He lifts off the top of the container. "She made me these as a thank you." He takes one out and sets it on his plate. It looks like one of Lou's brownies. I pick it up and take a bite.
Nash's brows lift. "I didn't know we were sharing."
"We're not." I set the brownie down. "I just wanted to taste it." I point at it. "That woman didn't make those. Lou did. Those are from the bakery."
"That doesn't surprise me. I figured she'd bought them. She didn't look like someone who bakes."
An image of Katie pops in my head. It had to be her. She ordered a dozen brownies.
"What was her name?" I ask.
"Who?" He stuffs half the brownie in his mouth.
"The girl who gave you the brownies."
He pauses to think. "Carrie? Kelsie? Shit, for some reason I keep forgetting her name."
"Was it Katie?"
He nods. "Yeah. That was it. Katie. Do you know her?"
"Sort of. She comes into Lou's now and then for lunch. Her dad owns the country club."
"She mentioned that. She offered to get me a membership."
"Don't take it," I blurt out, then wonder why I care. If Nash wants to hang out there, or with Katie, I don't care. It's none of my business.
"I wasn't planning to," he says finishing his brownie in another huge bite.
"I didn't mean to tell you what to do. Actually, you should take her up on the offer. It's a really nice country club with a pool and a really nice golf course. A membership is worth thousands of dollars."
He wipes his hands on his napkin. "I've been to country clubs in Chicago. It's not my scene."
"So Katie came over here? To the house?"
"Yeah. I'm surprised she knew which one it was. I told her I was working on Freeson's house but I didn't think anyone knew who he was or where he lived."
"She probably asked her dad about him. Her dad's on city council. He knows everyone in town. Lou's scared to death of him. He thinks if he makes Katie upset in any way that her dad will do something to harm his business, so Lou does whatever she asks. He stayed at work late today in order to make those brownies because he didn't want to tell Katie no, even though she knew we were closed when she ordered them."
He shoves the container aside. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't know she'd done that. Did you have to stay late?"
"No. Lou sent me home. And don't feel bad about it. It's not your fault. That's just how Katie is. She's spoiled. She expects people to do whatever she says."
"I had a feeling she was like that. She didn't seem too happy when I turned her down earlier."