Page 40 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

Large cages lined the left wall of the space. Smaller kennels, stacked three high, held smaller dogs. The other couples were huddled together at the far end of the row looking at an animal I couldn’t see.

“Isn’t he cute?” a woman cooed.

“His eyes are two different colors,” one of the men said in a disgusted tone.

“Like Jane Seymour.”

“Who?”

Greta let out a huff, I assumed because these children didn’t know who Jane Seymour was. Lucky for me, my mom loved to watch reruns ofDr. Quinn: Medicine Woman. I caught Victoria’s gaze, and she rolled her eyes. I’d have to ask her how she managed that with a clenched jaw.

“It looks like your friends are going to work with the dogs,” Jenni pointed. “Would you like to meet the cats?”

Greta nodded, and Jenni led us to the right where there was another room about half the size. “Here they are.” The same configuration of crates as the smaller dogs made up three walls.

Victoria seemed to relax a little. Maybe she was better with smaller animals.

That sent a pang of regret through me as I thought of Sky, Big Bear, and my list.

Greta moved toward an orange cat whose fluff practically filled the entire cage and let it sniff her fingers through the bars. Was she going to let the cat out to rile up all the dogs? That would be funny.

“We have a space out back with grass and some trees if you’d like to go out there for pictures.” Jenni informed us. “Let me know which ones you want to meet. I’ll be right back.”

I looked down at Victoria and said, “We could just let them all out.”

She shook her head. “Too predictable.”

Greta had moved on to a new feline, as if she were searching for something.

“Come on.” I pulled Victoria closer.

Greta stopped at her third cage then waved us over. “This one.”

“This one what?” I asked.

Victoria grudgingly came with me.

“Victoria, put your fingers up like this so she can smell you.” Greta demonstrated.

“Why?” Victoria asked.

“So you know they aren’t going to bite you.”

“Some of them might.”

Greta gave Victoria the “I’m waiting” look.

With a heavy sigh, Victoria approached the cage. The cat, a black-as-night little thing with eerie yellow eyes, stared at us as we got closer.

“Hold your fingers up,” Greta said.

Victoria looked at me.

“Like this.” I did as Greta had done, and the cat sniffed me a few times before backing off. “She just wants to get to know you.”

“To see if she wants to eat me?” Victoria asked.

“Cats don’t eat people. Unless they get trapped with their dead owner,” Greta said.

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