"Yeah. His name is Cat." I pick him up. "You want to pet him?"
"No! You know I hate cats and you know I'm..." she sneezes, "allergic to them."
"Then you should probably get out of here. If you drive down the main street in town you'll find a couple hotels."
She narrows her eyes. "Now I remember why we broke up."
"Because you cheated," I say casually.
"No! Because you don't know how to treat a woman." She gets her purse from the table. "And who names their cat Cat? Like you couldn't come up with anything better?"
"I didn't name him, but I actually like the name." I keep hold of Cat as I open the door. "Bye, Marissa."
She storms out to her car, tripping a little on her heels. I watch her drive away, then shut the door.
"I don't really feel like going out now," I say to Cat. "You want to grab a beer, put on some tunes, and hang out on the deck?" He meows, which I take as a yes. "Should we ask Callie to join us?" No meow this time. "You're probably right. She needs more time."
We go out to the deck and I'm trying to relax, but my mind won't shut down. It's stuck on Callie, who's over at her house right now when she should be here with me. My dad's right. I can't give her too much space. If I do, I might lose her. Or even worse, she might lose herself. I can't let that happen.
"You know what?" I say to Cat, who's sitting in the chair next to mine. "I've changed my mind. I think we need to invite her over."
I go inside and grab a beer from the fridge, then return to the deck and pick up Cat.
"You need to be the one to invite her. If I ask, she'll probably say no." As I'm walking to her door, I say to Cat, "Be nice. Purr or meow when you see her. And if she acts surly, which we both know she will, don't run off. You need to give her a chance."
When we reach her house, I set both Cat and the beer bottle down in front of the door, then ring the bell and back up against the side of the house so she can't see me.
Cat looks at me.
"Stay right there," I tell him. "And remember, be nice."
Callie turns the porch light on and opens the door just a crack. "Who's there?" She doesn't notice Cat. "Is anyone there?"
Cat needs to make a noise. He is not cooperating with the plan.
She starts to close the door, but then Cat meows, a loud meow that catches her attention.
"Cat?" She opens the door. "What are you doing here? And why do you have a beer?" Callie hears me laughing. "Nash?"
I show myself, appearing next to Cat. "Hey."
"What's going on here?" She cracks a smile.
"Cat and I were hanging out on the deck, shootin' the breeze, and he thought we should invite you over."
She cocks her head. "Cat's inviting me over?"
"Why else would he be over here on a Friday night with a cold beer?"
She laughs, but then stops herself.
I look down at Cat. "I told him it wouldn't be appropriate for you to come over, given our strictly professional relationship, but then Cat darted over here before I could stop him."
"With a bottle of beer?" She's trying not to laugh.
"Yeah. You should've seen him. He had to walk on his hind legs while carrying that bottle with his front paws. I should've recorded it. That's the kind of thing that'd get millions of views online. You know how people like cat videos. We could've paired it with some advertising and made millions."
"I didn't know he was so talented," she says.
"I didn't either until tonight." I pick him up. "So what do you say? You coming over?" Cat meows. "See? He really wants you to come over."
She smiles. "Okay. But just for a little bit."
She picks up her beer and the three of us return to my deck.
"Do we have to listen to country music?" she asks, sitting across from me as I reach over and turn the radio on.
"It's the only kind of music there is." I smile and swig my beer.
"There are other kinds of music."
"That other shit's not music. It's just noise."
She rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face. And that's all I wanted for tonight. I don't need her to pour her heart out to me or even talk about anything at all. Getting her to smile is enough. For now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Callie
Nash's attempt to get me over here was very sneaky. Using Cat? Very clever, and it worked. I'll never forget that image of seeing Cat at my door, sitting next to a beer. It was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. He had his neck craned up to me and then he meowed, like he really was inviting me over. Now he's curled up in the chair between Nash and me, sound asleep.
"I thought you were going out tonight," I say to Nash.
"Changed my mind. Cat wanted to stay in."
"Cat was going to go with you to the bar?"
Nash nods. "I didn't want to tell you that earlier. Thought you might be jealous that he was going instead of you."
"You didn't invite me." I swirl my beer around in the bottle.
"I'm not allowed to, according to your rules for a professional relationship."
"I might've made an exception." I take a drink of my beer.