Page 36 of Betting on the Brainiac

He stands and gently moves the carrier to the hall. “I’ll do it for the badge. And also because Miss Tabitha seems to have the situation handled.”

“Cool. I’ll get you something cool at the badge store.”

“Bruh, I love the badge store.”

His delivery is so earnest that it sends me to my car laughing.

Wednesday doesn’t bring any word from any of the rescues, but Tabitha and fam seem fine after their night alone. I do get several visits from Oliver to do everything from “check the hinges on that cabinet for squeaking” to investigating the thumbtacks on the office bulletin board “for pointiness.” The kittens are up a full ounce in weight from the first day, and when I confess to Oliver I don’t have any badges, he heaves a dramatic sigh and goes back to his laptop.

I take a few minutes to scavenge through the office and storage spaces before I bring him a consolation prize of two Stella Artois beer koozies. “Please accept my apology for not going to the badge store.”

“Madison. Babe. Stella isn’t manly.”

I almost lose it when he says “babe” like he’s a seedy Las Vegas bookie. “Wristbands are manly. NFL players wear them. They’re extra manly if you rip stuff to make them. How about if you tear out the bottoms of these koozies and then wear them like wristbands?”

His mouth twitches. He almost breaks. But he says, “That would be pretty manly.” Then he takes a koozie and attempts to tear it, but it turns out that the nylon sleeves aren’t that easy to tear by hand.

He flings it back on the table. “I’m going to get my pocketknife from my car because cutting these with a knife is even more manly.”

“I was going to say that.”

He slides out from the booth and heads to the exit. Tabitha follows him when he passes the office, and when he opens the rear door, she slips out.

“Tabitha!” I call, but since she doesn’t know that’s her name, she doesn’t pause.

“She’ll come back,” Oliver says. “Do you care if I leave the back door cracked open for her?”

“No, that’s fine.” I know he’s right, but I’m already anxious, wondering how long it’s going to take her to return. “If anyone comes to steal our top-shelf liquor, I’ll stop them with a withering stare.”

A few minutes later, Oliver stops by my office to show me his new Stella wristbands. He rotates his hands. “Feel like these are going to make me work even faster.”

“Good. That was my plan.”

Tabitha comes back about an hour later to drop a decapitated bird in the office doorway before returning to the crate and the kittens.

“Oliver?” I feel a touch pukey. “Tabitha is back.”

I hear him walk down the hallway and pause. “Gross.”

Bird disposal involves kitchen gloves and a dustpan, but the rest of the day goes quietly except for Oliver’s visits to “check the tile patterns” on the office floor and “test the dry erase markers” to make sure they’re still inky.

Oliver gets a ton of cuddles out of those kittens. And a ton of smiles out of me.

I like that guy. He’s funny.

Chapter Fourteen

Oliver

I can’t remember thelast time I looked forward to work this much. I like what I do, especially since working on the startup. But now that a day at “the office” is spent playing with kittens and making Madison laugh, I wake up excited to get to Gatsby’s.

This isn’t good. I know it’s not good. I like Madison more every day that I’m around her, and it’s obvious that her feelings for me are deepening too—her feelings offriendship.

I should be okay with that. I’m not.

I need to do something about it. Give up the idea that I can resist her, for starters. Then shoot my shot, obviously. But how? This is a shift in gears, and I need to think it through.

Thursday morning, I clear out another mouse before Madison gets in. She’s been leaving the office door open so Tabitha canget out to use the litterbox in the storage room, so I visit with the kittens before I head to my nearby booth.

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