Page 10 of Interference

I fucking hated myself for that.

Gazing down into her big brown eyes, I fought back a sudden rush of emotion.

We’ll get back on our feet, kiddo. And then you’re going to be the most spoiled dog in the world.

Anthony pulled up, and after we’d reached the window, he collected our food. Then he pulled into a parking space. As I dug into a burger—oh my fucking God, food—Anthony tore off a couple of pieces from his chicken sandwich and twisted around.

The purring intensified as the cats each took some chicken from him.

And because I wasn’t a monster, I had of course bought a small hamburger for Lily. No onions, no condiments—just bun and meat. Her tail thumped against the floormat as she ate.

Behind me, the cats starting squeaking and kneading again.

Anthony shot a judgy look over his shoulder. “You already had some! You got the first bites, for God’s sake!”

More squeaking. More kneading. More purring.

He eyed them, then gave an exasperated sigh and tore off a couple more pieces of chicken.

I tried not to choke on my burger as I laughed. “You really are wrapped around their little paws.”

He grunted. “There’s nothing little about these paws.”

“That’s not really a denial of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He faced forward again, rolled his eyes, and finally got a bite of his own sandwich.

When I was about halfway through my burger, I slowed down a bit, and I turned to Anthony. “Seriously—thank you for all of this. You really didn’t have to help us.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He took a sip from his drink before putting it back in one of the cupholders between us. “It doesn’t make sense for me to have an empty guestroom while someone’s sleeping…” He gestured out the windshield.

I laughed bitterly. “You’re in the minority, thinking that way.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly. “I’ve got a neighbor who bitches constantly about how the homeless need to be ‘sent someplace else.’” Anthony rolled his eyes. “Dude’s literally got six bedrooms, three of which aren’t occupied, but he’s… ugh. I could rant about him all damn night.”

“He probably doesn’t like our aesthetic,” I muttered.

Anthony’s response was a humorless chuckle, and we continued eating.

My mind reeled, though. Six bedrooms? And this was Anthony’s neighbor?

Jesus Christ—how rich was this man who was scraping me and my dog up off the street?

About thirty minutes after we’d left the restaurant’s parking lot, I realized Anthony’s car and cats were only the tip of the iceberg.

His house was insane.

For one thing, it was in Medina. Some of the palaces out here probably made people in Bellevue and on Mercer Island weep with envy.

For another, it was on Lake Washington. Like… right on the lake. This man had waterfront property in Medina.

He pulled the car into a four-car garage that had two empty bays and one occupied by a gleaming red Ferrari. There was also a motorcycle and a couple of snowboards. No idea what he did for a living, but he was clearly doing well.

Lily and I got out of the passenger seat while Anthony went around to get his cats out. As long as we were outside and the cold hadn’t settled in too badly, I took the opportunity to let Lily do her business. Anthony didn’t seem to mind waiting a moment, even after the cats were out of the car. Bear quickly found a leaf to entertain himself. Moose just glared at us.

Fortunately, Lily was trained to go on command, so I didn’t keep anybody waiting long, and in under two minutes, we were all heading inside. Bear was clearly disappointed that he had to leave his leaf outside, but he seemed to forget about it once he realized he was going into the house.

From the garage, we walked into a kitchen that not only rivaled my last apartment for square footage, it had a spectacular view. Even in the dark, I could tell he had a panoramic view of Lake Washington, and that dotted line of lights swooping down toward the water and expanding across the lake could only be the Evergreen Point Bridge.

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