Page 86 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
My Monday morningstarted with the sound of a cat vomiting beside my bed, and I knew from the moment I opened my eyes that it would be a terrible day. The orange stared at me above his little puddle of puke, and I rolled back onto my pillows with a groan. My body ached, even though I hadn’t done anything more strenuous than cut a few Christmas tree trunks down to size the day before.
I pawed at my nightstand and found my phone. Piper’s email waited for me there.
I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to see her until I learned she wouldn’t be at work today.
The cat retched again. I sat up and rubbed my hand against my forehead, then squinted at the cat. A puddle of something slimy and yellowish sat near his feet, with a dark clump in the middle. I leaned forward and cringed.
“Is that a hairball? I didn’t realize cats actually did that.”
The cat meowed. I stared at him for a while as he padded away from the vomited hairball and slithered out the door. He didn’t look bothered, but my eyes strayed to what he’d hacked up onto my floor. That didn’t look right.
I followed the cat to the kitchen and found him patiently waiting for his food to be dispensed. My thoughts tried to stray to the email Piper had left in my inbox, but I wrenched them back to the creature at my feet.
“You just puked. Now you want to eat?”
We stared at each other for a while, and then I swore. “I’m taking you to the vet,” I told the cat. It would be another couple of hours before the vet clinic opened, though, so I made myself some coffee, ate breakfast, and cleaned up the revolting bile and hairball that damn cat had left for me.
By the time I’d showered and gotten ready, it was late in the morning. Cat food had been dispensed and devoured, and no more hairballs seemed to be forthcoming. Still, I found the cat lounging on the kitchen floor, so I went to the garage, found the cat carrier Jed had sold me, put it on the ground in front of the cat, and opened the door.
He looked at me, then closed his eyes and curled into a ball.
“Get in, cat,” I growled. “I’m not having you puke all over my house.”
Besides, a trip to the vet would save me from going to work and having to see Piper’s empty office. I mentally slapped myself.
Who cared if she wasn’t at work? She’d delivered the lodge design, we’d be able to open ahead of schedule, and now I could safely get rid of her. That was for the best, wasn’t it?
The cat jumped up onto the counter, then hopped to the back of the couch and disappeared.
“Get in the carrier!” I pointed at the beige box and rattled the metal gate.
The cat ignored me, as he always did. Heat built up in my chest. I didn’t want to deal with this, or him, or Piper. I just wanted to make money and live my life unbothered. Was that too much to ask? I’d beenfinebefore Piper came to town. Sure, I felt like a fraud and I wasn’t really sure what the point of my life was. But everyone in town loved me, and life had been good.
Now I felt like I wanted to scratch my skin off, and where was that damn cat?
I stomped to the pantry, stopping short as soon as I opened the door and saw all my unopened jars of chutney. Piper’s face flashed into my mind—the way she’d looked at me when she’d seen my stash. She’d looked like she loved me.
I swore at myself again, reaching past the chutney for the cat treats. I slammed the pantry door and turned my back on it.
I bought Florence’s mango chutney because it made me look like a good guy. Everyone knew I bought a jar every week. I did it because it fit with my image. I was the helpful, generous guy in town. On the outside.
But Piper had seen right through it—down to the selfish, self-centered core of me. She would never want to be with me—not really. That was why she’d invited her ex over. Or why he’d shown up—or whatever had happened.
Anger clouded my thoughts, and I shook the bag of cat treats until a little orange head poked around the edge of the couch.
“Yeah. You want these, huh? So easy to manipulate you, just like everyone else. And you know what? It’s what I do to get what I want. I make sure everyone gets what they need, so I can do whatever I like in this town. I’m a worthless piece of shit, and that’s the way I like it. I’ll keep using people and making money, and no one will ever be able to tell me to stop. Because you know what happens when you let people in? They turn their backs on you. They betray you. They remind you that you’ll always be alone, because they’ll always choose someone else.”
I dumped a handful of treats into my palm and flung them into the carrier. I knew I wasn’t making any sense, and the cat was looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
But he slinked into the carrier and began munching, and I slammed the little gate closed. Hauling it up into my arms, I slid my feet into boots and went to the garage.
The sight of my weekend vehicle, the gleaming SUV with seat warmers and all the bells and whistles of this year’s model, made me snarl. I’d never be able to drive that thing again, because I’d only think about the feel of Piper under my palm when she writhed on the seat beside me.
The truck wasn’t much better. We’d spent so much time in it over the past couple of months, driving back and forth to site, but at least I’d never kissed her in it. I dropped the carrier on the passenger seat and got behind the wheel. The sound of sharp teeth crunching hard treats filled the cab, and I started the engine.
Erin was working again today, and she gave me a big smile when I walked through the door. “Rhett!” she exclaimed. “Wasn’t expecting you today.”
“Cat’s been puking,” I said, then took a deep breath. I tried a smile on, and it felt stiff and uncomfortable.
