Page 78 of Kitty Season
“What, no-I thought people got more patient as they aged-gag?”
“Not today. I sold the last one to Dean Mankato an hour ago.”
Her eyes narrow in what I think is suspicion. “Are you alright, Quinn? You seem a little?—”
“Flat?”
“Hmm. Yes. Flat is the perfect word. Would you like to talk?”
My first instinct is to politely tell her to fuck right off, but I probably could do with a good vent. Even if it is to a woman I once held a pretty intense vendetta against.
Leaning to my right, I make sure there’s no queue waiting behind her, which there’s not.
“Callie,” I call out to the kitchen/office where she’s working, probably on a spreadsheet. “Would it be okay if I clocked off a little early.”
“No problem,” she yells back. “You did good today. See you tomorrow.”
Removing my apron, I hang it on the hooks behind me then let Mika know I’m leaving. “Yes. I know you’re leaving, Quinn. As you can see, I’m standing right next to you.”
“Oh. Yeah. Duh.” I swear I can hear her eyes roll as I dart around the counter and join Plum who’s walking towards the closest free table.
“She seems friendly,” she deadpans. Annoyingly, I smile.
“The friendliest.”
Plum tears the bag holding her muffin right down the center and nudges it to the middle of the table. “Want some?”
“Wow, first the offer of a talk and now baked goods. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to get into my good books.”
“Not trying.” She smiles back. “But not against it either.” Reaching out, she tears a palm-sized chunk off, and I do the same. Unlike her, I shove it in my mouth like a pig. “So. Tell me how things are going with you, Brady and Troye?” And I spit it back out.
“What do you mean?” I cough, splutter and anything else gross you can do to spit food over someone. “There’s nothing going on between us? I mean there is with me and Troye, but Brady? No. Nope. Not a thing … why, what did he say?”
“At first he said nothing, but when I persisted, noting that I’d seen him smile more in the last two weeks than I have the entire time I’ve known him, he went all gooey-eyed and?—”
I clutch her hand and squeeze. “And?”
“And he said that he had accidentally fallen into a throuple kind of situation-ship. That he now knew for sure he’d loved you all along, and that maybe, he was already half in love with someone else, too.”
“Oh, that.”
“Hmm. Yes. That.”
Because Lotte says sugar makes everything better, I tear off some more muffin, possibly half, and swallow it down in one go. A skill to which the men we’re speaking about are very big fans of. “Is that why you came here and asked me to talk? Are you going to lecture me about sleeping with two men?”
“No,” she says quietly. “I came for the muffin you’re currently devouring, and the rest kind of just happened.” Blushing and twirling the to-go cup in her hand, she shifts in her seat. “I’m sorry if I’ve put you on the spot. I don’t have the best communication skills at times.”
“It has put me on the spot a little, but it’s also a spot I’m kind of desperate to talk about.”
“Okay. So, let’s talk … Right after I get another muffin.”
“Boys. Boys, are you here?”I roar into our place like my ass is on fire and smack right into a rather broad, rather delicious smelling chest.
“Quinny, you nearly knocked my block off. What’s the rush?” Brady kisses me sweetly, then waits, blue eyes big and beaming waiting for my reply.
“Is Troye still here, too, or is he at O’Reilly’s?”
“He’s here too,” he shouts from his bedroom. “We were just about to leave.”
