Page 38 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

Lila: You’ve got to admit that’s a good prank.

Fallon: Not helping.

Lila: What are you going to do?

I chew my bottom lip, glancing over at the cat, its greedy gaze flicking between me and the last bits of salmon. Has Harrison been hiding it in his office, or did he bring it in today? I’m tempted to call him and demand answers, not to mention to give him a piece of my mind, but that’ll only give him the reaction he wants.

Fallon: I guess I’ll take care of it until Harrison’s back.

Lila: You sure? You’ve never taken care of an animal before.

Fallon: I’ll have you know my plants are very much alive and thriving.

Lila: Ah, yes, very similarcomparison.

Fallon: I’m glad we agree.

Lila: We need to work on your sarcasm detection, my friend.

Fallon: Remember when I said you could never be on my bad side?

Lila: You’re going to do great.

Fallon: How do I tell if this cat is a boy or girl?

Lila: One second.

Lila: Just did a quick search, and it says to look at the area under the tail. Male cats have visible testicles; female cats don’t.

Fallon: Lovely. Wish me luck.

Lila: You’ve got this!

I can do this, right?

After I slip my phone in my pocket, I slowly approach the cat and gently lift its tail, confirming he’s a boy.

I sigh, stepping back. “You’re a little demon, aren’t you? Wish I knew your name.” I notice he’s missing a collar. “Hmm… what am I going to call you?”

The only response I get is a dismissive twitch of his unscathed ear.

“How about Cat?” I ask with a chuckle. “It’ll do until Harrison gets back and tells me your real name.”

Cat hisses at me, and a flick of his tail sends the empty bowl toppling to the floor with a loud clatter. I flinch at the sudden noise, but he remains unbothered. Instead, he gives me a slow, menacing glare before hopping off the counter and stalking into the living room like a king entering his domain.

I trail behind at a safe distance, my eyes widening in horror as Cat drags his claws across the bottom of the sofa, the sound of leather tearing making my stomach drop.

“Bad cat,” I scold, wagging a finger in disapproval.

I’m careful not to get too close, afraid he’ll attack me if provoked.

With one final swipe, he seems satisfied with his destruction and retracts his claws. He jumps onto the couch and settles in the middle of the blanket I left on the cushion, letting out a defiant hiss to defend his newfound territory.

I roll my eyes. “Fantastic. A demon cat with an attitude. Why am I not surprised you’re as insufferable as your owner,” I mutter, cautiously reaching for the remote, my bowl of popcorn, and my drink from the coffee table. I’m not about to sacrifice my snacks because a little tyrant has taken over the living room.

Making sure there’s a substantial distance between us, I settle into the farthest corner of the couch, stealing glances at the unpredictable ball of fur. I’m clutching my treats against my chest like a shield against Cat’s unpredictable mood. When hedoesn’t make a move to attack me, I turn on the TV, scrolling through the streaming services Harrison has until I find the horror film category.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I remark to the empty room.

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