Felix’s brows lower while Amanda’s shoot up.
But before he can answer, or Amanda can ask why a storyboarder/emotional support animal sitter is taking such a sharp tone with her employer, I hustle to the front door.
I should’ve never left Mikey in the damn car. I should’ve checked on him more. I should’ve told Felix to fuck off with his douchebag attitude and co-star flirtation and brought Mike inside with me as planned. And I most definitely should not have let my previous privilege assume tonight’s dinner would be a larger gathering that includedallcurrent astronauts.
At the very least, I should’ve asked for a freaking guest list.
Felix catches up to me as I reach for the front door’s handle. ‘I’ll help look for him.’
‘Don’t bother.’ My jaw is clenched as tight as my hand on the collar.
He leans against the front door, preventing me from opening it. ‘Look, I’m sorry about the collar. I hadn’t wanted to choke him.’ When I don’t respond, he leans in. ‘You’rethe one who had me put the collar on him in the first place.’
Dropping my hand, I square up to him. ‘So now it’smyfault?’ Resentment and tears threaten to spill over.
‘No, I?—’
Pushing back the tears, I lean into the resentment. ‘Sosorrythe safety of my cat has once again damaged your all-important image.’ It seems my resentment manifests as sarcasm. ‘Heaven forbid this lowly intern get in the way when there are so many moreimportantpeople to impress.’
And there it is. The real reason I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything other than Felix tonight. It started with me second-guessing my dress, then every action I took since we arrived as I watched Felix smile and converse with those with more important titles at the table.
Felix is acting just like my ‘father’ did at the thousands of dinners I spent my lifetime attending as a dress-up doll that was only to be seen and spoken to when I was of benefit.
And I’ve let it bother me. Consume me. Just like I did with Stanley Moore.
Finally, arealexpression crosses over Felix’s Hollywood features. Confusion.
Well, welcome to the club, Johnny Douchebag.
‘Listen, Anne, I?—’
Knock. Knock.
Felix and I startle before he steps back and I swing the door open wide.
I’m half-expecting to see Mike Hunt sitting on his haunches, paw outstretched on the other side, acting impatient over the two seconds it took me to greet him.
And while itisMike Hunt, he isn’t twitching his tail on the doormat.
He’s cuddled-up in the arms of a woman.
Felix
‘Em.’ Anne looks more surprised to see the public relations manager than she is to see Mike in her arms.
I nod at the man next to Em. ‘Park.’
Anne mutters something that sounds like ‘guest list’ under her breath.
The astronaut nods back, his annoyingly memorable smile flashing. ‘Found this little guy wandering around the bushes on our way in.’
‘Hey, Em.’ Vance comes up behind Anne and me, looking over the newcomers. ‘Park.’ He leans between us. ‘Is this the infamous cat?’
‘Yes.’ Anne slides the collar over Mike’s neck before tightening it. ‘This is Mike.’ Collar secure, Anne takes Mike from Emily’s arms. ‘Thanks so much for finding him.’
‘To be fair, he found me.’ Em points to her silk sleeves dress with rhinestone buttons down the front. ‘I think he liked my buttons.’
‘He’s a bit of a handful, isn’t he?’ Park turns his smile on Anne.