Page 72 of Blitzing Emily

There was more of the simple overstuffed furniture Brandon seemed to like, along with a window seat that showed off the gorgeous lake view. Emily spied an office and another half bath at the other side of what must have been a former attic.

Emily heard a faint “Meow,” and a very large brown tabby cat jumped off the window seat to wind around Brandon’s ankles.

“Hey, buddy.” He reached down and gave the cat a pat on the head. “Decided you’d wake up and join us. This is Deacon,” he explained. “He’s part of the reason Greg hangs around here. When I’m on the road, I don’t worry that he’s going to starve or run away.”

“Interesting name for a cat.”

“His name is really Deacon White, but we call him Deacon for short. Deacon White was the best defensive end to ever play the game, sugar.”

Emily tapped one finger on her chin. “So, he played the same position you do.”

“You get a gold star for that football knowledge. I’m proud of you.” He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. She reached out for his hand, while inching her other hand toward the cat.

“Maybe he’ll let me pet him.”

“You might want to rethink that. He’s ferocious.” Nothing could have been further from the truth. Deacon stood on his hind legs and pawed at her. He wanted to be picked up.

“I want to have a pet, but I’m gone so much, it would never work,” she said. Deacon cuddled against her, and with a soft “Mew” he laid his head on Emily’s cheek.

“Hey, Deacon, back off. Get your own woman.”

“Does he sleep in your room?”

“Of course not,” he smirked. Emily remembered the plush cat bed in one corner of Brandon’s bedroom.

Deacon rubbed his face against Emily’s.

“I get a woman in my house, and the first thing she does is go for the cat,” Brandon said.

Emily set the cat down on the floor, and Deacon regarded her with an injured expression in his amber eyes. “I know. I’ll be back another time,” she told him. She glanced up at his owner. “We probably need to leave for Damian’s.” They descended the stairs, and she picked up her handbag. “Maybe I should drive.”

“We don’t need the car.”

“He must be close,” Emily said as they walked outside.

“You could say that. He’s right across the street.”

Emily glanced up, spotting Damian standing on a deck that overlooked Brandon’s house.

“Hey, dawg,” Damian shouted. “Get your ass over here or the steak’s going to burn. Hey, pretty lady.”

Emily waved at him in response.

He continued talking as they made their way across the street. “I got some tickets to go see you in that—what the hell is it—Der, die, something.”

“Die Fledermaus,”she explained. “You’re going to Cincinnati? That’s wonderful.” Emily clapped her hands.

Damian pulled the front door open as Emily and Brandon reached the doorstep and threw his arms around her. “There she is.”

She hugged him back. “It’s good to see you, too. I can’t believe you’ll be at the performances in Cincinnati!”

“It’s really hard to get tickets to see you perform around here now,” Damian complained.

“I’m not singing here till later in the season, but I could get you some tickets to one of Seattle Opera’s upcoming performances. It’s notDie Fledermaus, but you might like it.”

“I want to go if you’re singing,” Damian assured her.

“I’m standing here. Stop trying to pick up on my fiancée,” Brandon told him.

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