Page 5 of Hell's Kitten

Jessie

It turnsout that sleeping in your car is about as fun as it sounds.

But I’m not about to waste money on a hotel, even if Paddle Creek does have a very fun-looking nautical-themed motel called Sunken Treasure. Their rates are pretty low, but they’re not free. I need to save every cent I can to afford a deposit on an apartment.

My first move was reaching out to the college administration office. However, they said they wouldn’t be able to help me until classes start next week when they’d know if anyone has dropped out and doesn’t need their room anymore. Even then, there are apparently people ahead of me on the list, so there’s no guarantee if or when I’d get a place.

I can’t face the uncertainty, so I spent yesterday afternoon emailing Realtors about vacancies but so far, no one has gotten back to me.

Rather than worrying myself silly about it, I’m focusing my efforts this morning on job hunting. I still look kind of put together despite a truly awful night’s sleep, worrying constantly that I was going to wake up to find someone staring at me or—worse—someone breaking into the car.

But I was able to brush both my hair and teeth and apply fresh deodorant, so I feel reasonably presentable. I’m hoping to be able to get a day pass to use the showers at a gym, but for now, I’m confident enough to walk into places and see if anyone’s hiring.

I’ve basically been working my way down Main Street. I don’t know my schedule yet, but I’m really hoping I can get a weekend shift somewhere and maybe something during the week if my classes allow it. Retail seems like the obvious choice for flexible hours, but so far, no one has any openings.

In fact, half the buildings on this street are boarded up. Has it gotten worse since I last visited? I guess Parker never brought me around these parts—probably in case anyone saw us.Urgh.But…yeah. I didn’t appreciate the town was this dilapidated.

Why the hell did I move here again? I curse myself for the millionth time as I nibble my thumbnail. I really did think I was in love with that asshole. But even after only twenty-four hours I’m starting to understand that I was just wrapped up in theideaof Parker more than the man himself. I thought my heart would be aching with how much I miss him. But mostly, I’m just furious. More at myself than him, funnily enough.

And now I’m stuck in this dead-end town, trudging from shop to shop as my hope of finding something today dwindles. I’m starting to feel truly despondent when I look ahead a few stores, and my heart skips a beat.Of course!How could I have forgotten that Paddle Creek has a cat café? Parker always promised he’d take me there, but obviously he didn’t. It’s clear to me now how embarrassed he was with my cat obsession, let alone wanting to avoid us being seen in public, but I don’t care what he thinks anymore.

Cats are amazing, and Toe Beans looks like the most perfect place in the world to work. Hell, that wouldn’t be a chore. That would be awesome.

“Please have a vacancy, please, please,” I whisper to myself as I bounce up to the front door. Unlike most of the other businesses I’ve been into this morning, the café is jammed despite the fact that it’s a Wednesday. I peer through the glass and see all the mismatched furniture with lacy table coverings and teapots.

Oh my god, it’sadorable.

This is the place for me. I just know it. I’ve still got my cat-ear headphones around my neck and my cat-face backpack on. I look perfect for the part! I don’t care what kind of work I’ll have to do. I’ll wash the dishes, sweep the floors, I’ll even clean out the litter boxes. It’s clear to me that this will be good for my poor, wounded soul.

The first ray of sunshine in the downpour that has become my life.

As I stop ogling through the glass and actually make my way inside, a little bell jingles above my head. The line is almost to the door, and seeing as I don’t want to buy anything, I could probably just skip it. But that feels rude, so instead I wait my turn.

There’s plenty to look at in the meantime. All along the walls are different-sized shelves for the cats to move around the room, not to mention several rope bridges. There are hammocks and softly lined boxes and so many scratching posts.

Then there are the kitties themselves. It’s hard to count them, but I’d guess there are about twenty milling around. Some are sleeping, some are wandering, and some are playing with customers. I notice there are two people wearing T-shirts with the café’s name on them, standing at either end of the coffee shop, observing the cats. When a small child gets a bit too enthusiastic and attempts to put a poor ginger baby in a headlock, the staff member is there in a flash, gently helping the child and their parents to respect the cat’s boundaries.

I’m impressed. I’ve always wondered about the ethics of establishments like this. But it seems these people’s jobs are purely looking out for feline welfare. Combine that with the big, pretty signs on the wall saying that all cats are looking for their forever homes, and I’m even more sold.

It’s my destiny to work here. A college education will be great, no doubt. But if I could work here and get on the cheer squad, well…I’d truly be living my best life.

The line is moving relatively fast. I see a blonde woman about my age with curls and a rosy smile. My heart lifts. She looks like she’ll be the one to talk to. I bet she’ll be nice to me, whatever happens.

Just as she’s serving the man in front of me, the door behind the counter swings open. I catch a glimpse of what’s beyond, and it looks like a sort of anti-chamber between here and out the back. Perhaps a kitchen? Or some sort of prep room? That’s probably to keep the cats away from the food, which also reassures me about the legitimacy of this concept. I’m all for kitty cuddles, but hygiene standards are important too.

I’m so busy musing on how the business actually operates that it takes me a second to absorb who it was that came through the door just now.

Oh.

I swallow as my widening eyes cast over the big guy carrying a tray of pastries that he swaps for the empty one that’s sitting on the other side of the glass from me. His dark hair is closely shaved but he has a neatly trimmed beard that frames his face well. Tattoos cover his tanned forearms, and his white Toe Beans T-shirt clings to his solid frame like it’s been sprayed on.

I guess I’m really not all that heartbroken with the full body shiver I have to repress. This guy is older and bigger than Parker, and I would much,muchrather find myself under him any day of the week.

Focus!I tell myself. I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I’m looking for a job. Men can all go to hell for the foreseeable future as far as I’m concerned.

Which is a good thing because when Mr. Toe Beans straightens up with the empty tray, I find myself accidentally locking eyes with him.

And he’s scowling.

---