Page 45 of The Christmas Fix
“That’s got to be it. No other explanation,” Angela announced. She drained her drink and held the empty glass aloft as their server walked by.
Like magic, the server arrived with three fresh drinks a moment later. “This round is on Noah, our very sexy, very single city manager.”
Cat pushed the drink away.Why in the hell would the man who accused her of being the antichrist to human decency buy her a drink. Was it a liquid middle finger?
“What is wrong with you? Catalina King does not turn down free drinks,” Paige said, pushing the drink back at her.
“It’s probably poisoned.”
“I hate to point this out and make you think that I’m being disloyal, and I hope you know if you need help hiding his body you can count on me, but…”
Cat gave Paige a cool glare, daring her to say anything in Noah’s favor.
“I’m wondering if maybe we should try to keep the peace. We’re going to be here until Christmas. That’s five weeks that could be beyond miserable if we give Noah any reason at all to make things difficult for us here.”
Cat gnawed on her lip. Backing down from a fight was not in the King nature.
“How about you just keep him far, far away from me, and he’ll live to be an asshole another day?”
“I feel like I should go talk to him and find out just what his problem with my daughter is,” Angela mused out loud.
“No talking to him,” Cat ordered. “I will drink this drink instead of throwing it in his face, but no one is going to engage Noah in anything other than hand-to-hand combat.” She grabbed at the server’s arm as the woman swung past the table. “Another Jameson, please.”
“Question from the peanut gallery,” Paige raised her hand. “Why does Noah get under your skin like that? You’re used to being underestimated. And, if I may point out, you usually revel it.”
Cat pointed a rigid index finger at Paige. “Don’t say it.” She could hear her friend’s thoughts clear as a bell.
“Maybe there’s sparks flying because there’s some kind of attraction going on,” Angela said, fluffing her dark hair.
“Mom!”
“Paige is right,” Angela continued, immune to Cat’s sharp tone. “You usually let this stuff roll right off your back and then crush the undeserving, underestimating ass like a cockroach under your heel. You never waste time stewing about it.”
Cat drummed her fingers on the table. “I’m not stewing.”
“Maybe not stewing,” Paige said in a way that made Cat think stewing was exactly what she meant. “But there’s something about this guy that gets to you. And all we’re saying is what if it’s not hate?”
“Oh, so I’m supposed to accept this asshole yelling obscenities at me in the street as flirting?”
“Point taken,” Paige nodded graciously. “I think your mom and I are just wondering if there’s something else there besides abject hate.”
“Not onthisside. I can assure you,” Cat said, swigging back her Cosmo and letting the vodka do its thing. She had very strong feelings for Noah. Murderously strong. And she wasn’t interested in psychoanalyzing exactly why he got to her.
The server dropped off her Jameson and wisely retreated without any comment.
“Excuse me.” A gritty voice interrupted Cat’s mental gymnastics. The man was in his fifties. He had a broad, flat nose. A hefty beer belly strained the seams of his shirt and suspenders.
“Well if it isn’t my old friend…”
“Regis,” the man supplied, dipping his head in an awkward half-bow.
Paige was already sliding off her stool as if to intervene.
“Refresh my memory, Regis,” Cat said slyly. “How did we meet last time?”
The man’s already ruddy cheeks took on a ruby red hue. He cleared his throat. “Well, as best as I can recollect, we met right here on the dance floor.”
“Mmm hmm. And how did our introduction go?” Cat tapped a finger to her chin, knowing full well how it went.
