Page 75 of The Best Wrong Move

I close my eyes and wait for Dom to see her.

Silence.

“Pru!” I hiss loudly, holding the bowl of food out to her, lifting my face up an inch, hoping there’s a chance Dom hasn’t seen her yet. “Pru, get back here!”

I shake the bowl, hoping the smell of food wafting down the hall will bring her sprinting back — before Dom turns around to see a surprise cat. If he hasn’t already.

“Pru!” I whisper louder. “He’s not for you! Get back here!”

She startles when the drill starts up again. I lunge at her since she’s momentarily distracted. Wrong move. She bolts into the bathroom to inspect the sound — I slide down the hall after her, hoping to catch her before—

The drill halts again.

I hear Dom mutter something, then the sound of metal screws clunking into the tub.

“Olivia?” Dom pops his head out.

I freeze.

Chapter 49

He wasn’t supposed to find her today. If this doesn’t go over well, I’m really not ready to say goodbye. Where will she go? Back to the streets? A shelter?

“Yes?”

I’m ready to plead on her behalf. I put my chin in my hand, trying to look cute so he won’t be mad, even though I’m still sprawled across the floor in the narrow hallway.

“Please tell me this cat somehow managed to get in here undetected, right now, and you’re not actually harboring a stray.”

“Pru is not just a stray.” I hop to my feet and walk in the bathroom — she’s weaving through Dom’s ankles while he’s got half a shower curtain held up over his head. She’s purring so loudly, there’s no way he’s not at least a little charmed by her.

“You named it?” He looks horrified.

Okay, he’s not a cat person. “Her. I’ve namedher.”

“No, no, no, no. She’s not staying. The island is full of strays. You can’t just take one home with you.”

“She’s been helping me get over my writer’s block whenever I have it. I’ve been . . .” How do I begin to explain this to Dom without sounding completely unhinged? “I was lonely when I first got here.”

“When you first got here?” He locks his jaw. “How long has it been here?”

“She’sbeen here a few weeks. I already took her to the vet and the shelter a few weeks ago. No one has tried looking for her, and she’s healthy as a horse.”

He answers me with a glare.

“I’m a New Yorker! I’m used to having people around everywhere I go. So Pru here has given me someone to talk to when I’m home. Besides myself.”

Admitting to Dom in the same breath that I’m not only talking to myself, but that I’m also in the habit of talking to a stray cat I brought in from the street — it sounded better in my head than it does streaming out of my mouth at warp speed.

“Phone a friend if you need someone to chat with. Come out with my friends again. Have dinner with me.” He sets the curtain rod down. “I’d like to keep this place cat-free.”

He eyes Pru, wearily, then sits on the closed toilet lid, scooping Pru up between his biceps. She looks tiny in his arms. This unexpected sight of him being all cuddly with Pru suddenly makes me want to introduce him to Toby too. I’ll make him a cat person.

“She doesn’t have fleas?” He looks concerned.

I shake my head. “Please?” I put my hands together in unofficial prayer. “You said you have some renovations you want to do to this place anyway. You could just add anything she might mess up. Plus, she’s been here nearly a month and hasn’t ruined a thing.”

“A month? Where has she been hiding when we’ve—” His mouth is hanging open.

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