Page 29 of The Christmas Fix
Henry snorted.
“Good because I need you desperately,” Cat said cocking her head to the side. “Sara, Henry is my very British, very snooty assistant.”
“Hi, Sara,” Henry said sparing her a wink.
Sara giggled and then couldn’t seem to stop.
Noah felt like he should be covering Sara’s ears. He was witnessing the flirty side of America’s home renovation sweetheart, and he didn’t care for it. Was she dating one of them?Bothof them? Did it even matter?
One thing was clear, Cat wasn’t the kind of role model he wanted Sara clinging to.
“Sara, it was great meeting you. Noah, let me know about tonight so I can have a small crew ready if it’s a yes. You have my number?”
Noah nodded.
“Come on, Sar. Let’s get you back to school,” Noah insisted. Sara looked like she was going to argue, but when Drake and Henry winked at her and said their good-byes, she lost the power of speech again. Noah half dragged, half carried her to the SUV and unceremoniously stuffed her inside.
“Oh, my God, Dad. That was the most amazing moment of my life,” she squealed. “Cat King! She’s so gorgeous, and did you see those guys with her? She is literally the coolest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life. Do you think both those guys are her boyfriends?”
Noah hit the brakes a little too hard as they rolled up to a stop sign. “Why would you think that would be cool?”
Sara gave him a sideways look. “I’ve seenSex and the Cityreruns. Sometimes people don’t want to be in a relationship. Sometimes they just want to have fun.”
Noah wasn’t sure who he wanted to curse more. Catalina King or Samantha Jones.
Hell would freeze over before he allowed Cat to parade into his house with a camera crew and her smoldering boyfriends who rendered his daughter speechless.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
That sneaky son of a bitch tried to weasel his way out of letting her into his house, just like Cat knew he would. The temporary coffee truce had been short-lived. Sure, it had held up long enough for him to introduce his daughter. Sara was bright, charming, and fun. The exact opposite of her shithead father.
Cat guessed the girl took after her mother.
Once Drake and Henry had made their grand entrance, Noah’s pleasantries had turned off like the flipping of a switch.
He’d gone from grateful father to Judgy McJudgerson in the blink of an eye. The look he’d given her as he loaded Sara into his SUV? Oh, she knew that expression well enough. Judgment, swift and sure.
People often felt the urge to judge her. Her sex life (what a slut!), her wardrobe (designer dresses and flannels?), the way she interacted with people (too friendly or too uppity), all of it was fodder for public opinion. And Cat didn’t give a good damn. She lived her life the way she chose.
She worked and played equally hard because otherwise what was the point? She enjoyed casual sexual relationships with men she liked. And some days, she just felt like wearing fucking leggings and making a waiter blush.
She did things her way, which is why she was sitting at Noah’s dining room table while he glowered at her. Cat had to admit, he fascinated her. How did a man take pot shots at her one second and then nearly drown trying to save one of his neighbors? She’d been shocked when she realized they’d met before during the flood when she hauled his ass aboard. She’d keep that information to herself for now. And when it would give him the biggest punch in the gut, she’d drop that bomb on him.
Paige was explaining to the scowling Noah that she’d like to set up the one-on-ones in his front parlor. Meanwhile, a camera woman, sound guy, and PA were already covering the worn rug and cozy furniture with a million feet of cords. And another half dozen people thundered up and down the stairs, poking their heads in to greet their host.
A fat cat named Felipe wound his way around her ankles, purring louder than a motorboat.
Kathy, her stick straight black hair tied back in a stubby tail, settled in at the cozy dining table next to Cat. “I can’t believe we’re back here again,” she sighed.
Cat patted her friend’s hand. “This sucks balls.”
Kathy’s smile was tired but broad. “I miss you and your inappropriate mouth.”
“I missed you too, and now we’ve got the next eight weeks to enjoy each other’s company again.”
Jasper skirted the table and handed Kathy a cup of tea. Lines of tension were carved into his face. His jet-black hair was disheveled as if he’d been shoving both hands through it. Cat remembered the signs, remembered the strain he put himself under in times of crisis.
“You got a minute?” she asked Jasper, keeping her voice low.
