Page 41 of Love at First Ink

“Oh, yeah. I’ve helped organize a few donation galas, and they are all eager to outbid each other,” Marisol said.

“Wow. I think you just became my best friend. I’ve been wanting to put some sort of fundraiser together for the shelter, but I’m in over my head. I’m good at loving on pets, but trying to put something together of that magnitude honestly leaves me curled up in a ball.”

Marisol knew how stressful it could be. Every tiny detail needed to be planned, and any mistake reflected poorly on the person who organized the event. She wasn’t sure if it was all the years of constantly striving for perfection or the countless hours she spent organizing her schedules, but she loved planning events. Anything from large galas to raise money for whatever charity her parents were interested in at the moment to the baby shower she planned for Lola. It made her feel good to see people enjoying something she put together.

“We can talk about your goals for the event, and I can start drafting ideas,” Marisol suggested.

“I would love that. We will be meeting next Tuesday. Would you be able to make the meeting? I can introduce you to the rest of our team, and we can discuss the fundraiser.” Marisol couldn’t see Stella, but she imagined the petite woman bouncing excitedly in her chair. She gave off goldenretriever energy, which contrasted greatly with Marisol’s black cat energy.

But even black cats needed their people.

“Sure. I’ll be there,” she said.

“Great! Marisol, I can’t thank you enough for calling me back. I think you are going to be a great addition to the team. Is this a good number to text you from?” Stella wondered.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Great. I’ll text you the info. Oh, we usually meet at a restaurant downtown. Super chill, and everyone can order what they like. Anyway, I’ll text you all this information. Thanks again for reaching out. I’m excited to get to know you more.”

“I’m excited too.” And she was, which was the weird thing. She genuinely looked forward to meeting these people and offering her expertise.

Stella thanked her again profusely and promised to send over the information as soon as they got off the call. Marisol hung up, feeling something akin to pride growing in her chest. This was another step in taking charge of her own life and making her own decisions.

Granted, she never thought taking charge would bring her to an animal shelter, but she liked it. If the rest of the volunteers were half as nice as Stella, she figured she’d get along with them well enough. Maybe even make friends who weren’t affiliated with her parents at all.

“I did it, Snowball. Think Alice would be proud of me?” she murmured, rubbing her cat’s head. Snowball purred, licking her hand as if to saygood job, Mom.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand with an unfamiliar number. It was Stella with the information about the meeting. It was held at an unfamiliar location, but she was excited to tryout something new. Usually, she stayed with her “safe” restaurants. Places she’s been hundreds of times and could order the same thing without looking at the menu.

“After that, I deserve some wine,” Marisol said, moving from under Snowball, who yipped before jumping off her lap. She got up and headed to the kitchen where she stored her small wine fridge. After selecting one of her father’s wines, she poured herself a glass.

Her mind wandered to Cisco and what he was doing right now. It was strange to miss someone you just saw, but there was an unfamiliar ache in her chest that hadn’t been filled since last night. The strong connection forming between them both scared and excited her. She didn’t think anyone had ever made her heart beat as fast as Cisco had. He could barely touch her, and already she felt like she could melt into a puddle at his feet.

Marisol took her wine and sat on the couch, deciding to spend a lazy day inside. Before she knew it, she was eight episodes deep intoLove is Blindand dozing off.

Her condo went dark, only the glow from the TV providing any light. After hours on the couch, her body hurt—the joys of turning thirty and getting weird aches and pains in parts of your body you didn’t know existed.

After pushing herself off the couch, Marisol went to her living room window, cracking it ajar to let the cool night air into her apartment like she normally did when the weather was nice. She called for Snowball, but the cat stayed curled up on the couch.

“Suit yourself,” she muttered and walked back to her room.

Her head barely hit the pillow before she fell fast asleep.

CHAPTER 19

Marisol

The thought of coffee was the only thing that got her out of bed. Slipping on her fuzzy pink slippers, Marisol grabbed her robe and headed into the kitchen. The fancy but complicated machine sat out on her counter with a sticky note from Mrs. Baker on how to run it.

After a minute of fumbling through the instructions, she finally managed to get the coffee machine working. The soft hum and slow drip of brewing coffee filled the quiet kitchen, a welcome promise of caffeine. Letting out a small sigh, she rubbed the last traces of sleep from her eyes and turned toward the pantry.

Snowball’s breakfast was next on the list. She reached for the bag of cat food, shaking it lightly as she stepped back. The absence of her feline companion in bed that morning hadn’t gone unnoticed. Snowball was probably curled up on the couch, basking in a patch of sunlight, completely unbothered by the world waking up around her.

“Snowball! Time to eat,” she called and popped open the can. Last time that had been enough for Snowball to comerunning into the kitchen, meowing her head off. Marisol barely had time to put her bowl down before Snowball attacked it.

This morning was different.

Snowball didn’t come running in. She didn’t dance around Marisol’s feet or meow her annoyance because Marisol was taking too long to prepare her food.

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