Page 64 of Daddy By Design

Okay, the second problem.

I wasn’t allowing myself to think about a naked Nolan today.

Gizmo was my top problem.

He sat to the left of me, his tail twitching as he spotted one of his toys under the shoe rack.

I snagged it and tossed it over my shoulder. He darted after it, tumbling bonelessly as only a cat could. He was ridiculous and just the bit of laughter I needed.

I reached blindly into the stack of sweatshirts I’d tucked back there and found the other heel sticking out from between my Boston University and Syracuse University hoodies. I crawled back out and came face to face with Gizmo. “Don’t judge me.”

He just licked his paw to start washing his face.

I set my shoes by the door with my messenger bag with my iPad and the drawings I’d printed out before I rushed back to my bedroom in my bra and panties. It was the only way to keep the cat fur off me without needing to attack myself with a sticky roller eight times before I was out the door.

I made a pit stop in the bathroom to finish my makeup and take the fat curlers out of my hair. What we did to make ourselves look like we had effortless curls and a “makeup free” look. Today was going to be another scorcher, which meant I needed a secondary blast of deodorant, just in case.

Gizmo kept following me from room to room. I hurried into my bedroom and closed the door. He let out a yowl and pawed at the molding. “I know, buddy, but this is the only space without a faucet at the moment. I can’t trust you.”

I pulled on a sleeveless wrap dress in olive green. Then I added a few gold accents of jewelry at my ears and neck and I was ready to go.

Gizmo sashayed back and forth in front of my door.

“I won’t be gone that long.”

He narrowed his green eyes at me.

I picked him up and set him on my bed, then I shook out a few treats before I darted to the door. I closed it to a pathetic yowl. Yep, he wasn’t a happy camper. I only had two more days to figure out what to do with him.

My heart broke as his pathetic meows followed me down the hall.

One problem at a time.

I stepped into my shoes and grabbed my bag before slipping out into the hall. I had two hours before Nolan was supposed to arrive at the design studio. Enough time for me to set everything up and knock his damn socks off.

I hustled down the hall to the parking garage attached to the back of our building. There was no way I’d be able to walk to work today. The oppressive heat was like a blanket in the dark parking structure, so I couldn’t imagine how bad it was outside.

The Honey Pot was doing a brisk business, but Dre, the owner, already had my order ready. Yay for past Dahlia planning ahead. With coffee and honey hot cross buns in tow, I was back on the road in less than ten minutes. Designing Women was only a few miles away, but it was on one of the busier streets in Kensington Square.

The parking gods weren’t as kind there. The usual pedestrian traffic was definitely halved with the soaring heatwave. I could feel my curls drooping by the minute. At least Taylor Swift was a decent soundtrack as I hunted for a free space.

Finally, a Mini Cooper pulled out and I bolted for their spot.

“Great,” I muttered.

Parallel parking was still not my forte. Especially in such a small spot.

“You got this.” Maybe if I said some positive things out loud, I could cram my stupid car in the space.

I ignored the horns blaring from behind me as I had to make another try at it. I blew out a breath and gripped the wheel. “You can do this. Ignore the assholes.”

Suddenly, a bang on the top of my car made me jump.

A very familiar torso filled my window.

What the hell was he doing here so early? I had another ninety minutes to set up, dammit.

“Roll down the window, Hellcat.”

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