Page 45 of Stuck with the Hot Boss
‘Only I think this condom is slipping.’
‘Oh, all right.’
It was a relatively straightforward process, except for–
‘Um, what should I do with this?’
Evie gestured around them. ‘Dump it with all the other used ones!’
‘That’s littering,’ said Leo, primly. ‘Do you have any tissues?’
Evie found a packet in her bag and handed it to him. ‘You know, I’m not sure you’re cut out for the wild Shoreditch life.’
‘I’m simply a tidy person,’ said Leo. ‘Nothing wrong with that.’
‘True,’ said Evie, with a smile. ‘There’s nothing wrong with thatorwith you. You’re absolutely perfect.’
She linked her arm in his. ‘Now, let’s go get something to eat before I become hangry and change my mind.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘So, where was it?’ said Leo. ‘Before it got, you know, cut off.’
Evie had finally given in to a week of his pestering and now they were standing on the Millennium Bridge. There seemed to be fewer padlocks hanging off it than before. Maybe Evie’s mysterious council worker had done double shifts with the bolt cutter.
‘Actually, I’m not sure,’ said Evie, with a frown. ‘I must have erased its location from my memory …’
‘Hey, look!’ said Leo. ‘A cat!’
Evie expected a padlock shaped like a cat, but no, it was a real one. Black, and weaving towards them in that slinky feline way. The bridge was crowded with people walking to and fro, but strangely none of them gave the cat a second glance. There was a lot to look at, to be fair, thought Evie. The glittering stretch of the Thames. Your own face when you were taking a selfie. And the cat wasn’t very big.
It stopped beside them, and wound itself around their legs, purring.
‘Hello, puss-cat. Will you let me pat you?’
Leo squatted down, stroked the cat between its ears. It closed its eyes and purred louder, butting its head against Leo’s hand.
‘It doesn’t look like a stray,’ Evie said. ‘Its fur is lovely and shiny.’
‘And it has a collar. With a nametag.’ Leo cupped the tag, a little golden heart, so he could read the name. ‘Miss L,’ he said. ‘Can’t tell if that’s the cat’s name or the owner’s. No phone number.’
‘Its owner probably lives in one of these swanky places.’ Evie glanced around at the expensive apartment buildings that lined the river front. ‘Or maybe it belongs to her?’
She pointed towards a flower seller, who was sitting by the St Paul’s end of the bridge with her little brightly painted cart, pink to match her hair. The woman had a good-witch vibe that would fit with a black cat.
The cat stretched its front paws up onto Leo’s knee. ‘You’d like me to pick you up?’ he said. ‘Madam, your wish is my command.’
‘I didn’t know you were a cat person,’ Evie said, as he lifted the cat off the bridge.
‘I’d have catsanddogs if I could,’ said Leo. ‘Pigs, too. Goats. Donkeys.’
The black cat was lying cradled in Leo’s arms like a baby, purring.
‘Um, Evie,’ said Leo. He sounded tentative, uncertain.
‘Yes?’ she said, slightly anxious about what he was going to say.
‘I did something you might hate.’
