Page 13 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
Rhett turned toward me, his eyes dark and dangerous. An illicit little thrill went through me when he said, “Don’t you start, Darling.”
The challenge in his tone poked at me. Unlike at the coffeeshop, this time I could tell he was rattled. By a cat. It was the best moment of my week. Maybe my whole month. Hell—maybe the entire year. He’d been so sure of himself in the coffee shop and the office, so hard when he insisted on his design vision, and now he was so incredibly annoyed. Not the king of his domain, after all.
Deep down, I knew that I was loving this because something about him reminded me of my ex-husband. It was the way he’d smiled at Mila, and how the old man in line behind me at the café had rushed to let him have his way. Rhett’s charming outer persona had everyone begging for a scrap of his attention, but I could tell it was hiding the rot beneath.
Jacob had been so charming it had taken me years to realize he was utterly selfish on the inside. I’d fallen for him within an hour of meeting him. He’d kept me off-balance and in love, and I hadn’t realized I’d made my world smaller to suit him until it was too late.
Watching a cat get the better of a big, important, beloved man like Rhett Baldwin tickled some part of me that had always wanted justice for my previous bad choices. So yeah. I was on the orange’s side. I painted a concerned look on my face and said, “He must think you’re a useless hunter, so he’s providing you with food. Have you done anything to make him think you’re not able to take care of yourself?”
Wouldn’t surprise me, I thought. Jacob leaned on everyone around him to do all the work he didn’t feel like doing. Housework and childrearing, certainly. Keeping track of birthdays and holidays, carrying the weight of all familial and social expectations. I’d worked myself to the bone to keep him looking goodfor everyone else. And I’d been so blindly in love with him that I actually felt proud of myself for it.
Rhett was almost certainly cut from the same cloth. He’d be there to collect accolades that he’d earned standing on the shoulders of those around him. There to smile and charm and schmooze his way to having his face carved into one of the mountains overlooking the town, so beloved was he.
No, I wouldn’t back down and quit my job, but I wouldn’t fall for the schtick everyone else seemed to lap up. He wouldn’t fool me.
And he didn’t fool the cat.
Okay, so, I didn’t like my new boss. That was probably a “me” problem, because obviously I had some unresolved stuff from my marriage. All Rhett had really done was cut in line in front of me, and hedidown the coffee shop. So it was possible my reaction was slightly out of proportion with his crimes.
Still, I was enjoying myself. I made a mental note to grab some cat treats while I was in town so I could make sure the orange decided to stick around for as long as possible.
“I’ve been taking care of myself for years,” Rhett argued, his hands spreading out to emphasize his point. He pointed at the animal. “That’s just some cat that likes leaving dead things where I’m most likely to trip over them. First it was a cockroach. Then the mice started.”
“Where you’re most likely tofindthem,” I corrected. “So you can eat them. He’s being helpful.”
“Half the time they’re not even dead!”
“He’s trying to teach you how to hunt. He must think you’re really useless.”
Rhett’s ire was a vibration in the air I felt without even having to look over at him.
The cat agreed with me, letting out a soft meow. Then he—I had no idea if the cat was male, but men tended to assume they could do things better than you could do them yourself—moved forward, favoring his right front paw.
“Is he hurt?” I asked, leaning forward.
“I don’t care,” Rhett answered, but his brows had drawn together. “It doesn’t belong here, and it’s not my responsibility. You hear that, you little runt? You’re not welcome. Get out.” He pointed to the staircase again but didn’t move toward the stairs or the cat.
The cat made his way toward us and started winding his way through Rhett’s legs. Rhett, looking highly aggrieved, tried to sidestep the cat’s affection while doing his best not to step on any stray paws or tails. A tiny, infinitesimal part of me softened toward him. Maybe he did like animals. Or at least, he didn’t want to intentionally hurt them. Still, my boss growled, “Get out of the way, you useless orange creature. I don’t like cats and I don’t like you.”
“Hey! Be nice. He’s only trying to take care of you.”
“I don’t need taking care of.”
“The cat obviously disagrees.”
“The cat is acat.”
I shrugged. “He’s limping. He went hunting for you while he’s injured, and this is all the thanks he gets?”
Rhett huffed, his fists clenched, and glowered at me. “You’re enjoying this,” he accused.
“Well,” I said, “yeah.”
Who knew that all it would take to knock this big, powerful man off-balance was a clingy orange cat? I wasn’t just enjoying the moment. I was positively brimming with glee. There was steam coming out of my boss’s ears, and it wasn’t because of anything I’d done. It was delightful. All the aggravation that had weighed me down since the coffee shop just floated off my shoulders and dissipated into the air.
“I should have fired you this morning at the coffee shop,” he grumbled, and he tried to march toward the staircase. The cat was having none of it. He limped between Rhett’s legs and nearly caused the man to trip and fall flat on his face. Rhett swore, picked the cat up, and deposited him a few feet away. “Stay,” he commanded.
“I’m not sure you’re aware of this, Mr. Baldwin, but this is a cat. ‘Stay’ won’t work.”
