Page 26 of Yes No Maybe

“Sorry, I didn’t score you an oyster, Edgar.” I pet his arched back, and he meows his disappointment.

Ready to put the night behind me, I change into a tank top and shorts and pull my tidy hair into a messy ponytail. I put onMarried at First Sight, something Dean would never watch. I pour what’s left of Jack’s expensive chardonnay and settle with Edgar on the couch.

Curled with Edgar is where I want to stay—loafing in a corner, wary of the other cats. My history replays from the day it happened, and through every indignity since, as if I need the humiliating recap. Memories haunt me like wicked ghosts that keep multiplying and dragging me back to that day, kicking and screaming.Alwaysscreaming.

My internal screams turn audible when a gentle knock on the door makes my shoulders pop and my heart thunder in my chest.

Nine

Jack

Rowanisn’tthemessI expect to find when she opens the door. No tears. No puffy eyes. No anger. Just Cleopatra from the restaurant—poised and controlled. Her worry lines deepen as she breathes a weak “Hi” and takes me in.

Her wrap is draped around my neck, and I’m holding another bottle of chardonnay as a peace offering, but she isn’t charmed by either.Of course, she isn’t.She’s unimpressed and maybe pissed at my reaction earlier—I did exactly what she hates. I assumed she was a damsel-in-distress, so I played the idiot hero.

“Sorry,” I finally manage.

“It’s not your fault. She didn’t realize how she sounded, that’s all.”

“No, I mean… I’m not apologizing for Renita. She’s an idiot, but notmyidiot. She owes you her own apology, and it better be a good one.” A heavy sigh escapes as I struggle with the right words—me, the fucking wordsmith. “I’m sorry for my part in it.”

“Your part?”

“Getting pissed and dragging her off to Ed felt good then, but when you disappeared, I realized I made it worse. You were probably ready to handle it gracefully.”

Her pouty lips upturn slightly. “Do you mean I would’ve played the lady if not for you acting like the tramp?”

“Exactly,” I smirk. “Forgive me for exploding what could’ve been diffused… and not leaving it up to you.”

Her crystal-blue eyes widen like an apologetic man is a new phenomenon. “Youhavebeen talking to your mom,” she smiles.

And delicate tingles swirl through my chest. Okay, maybe I like this woman.A little.I take a breath, studying her. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Not get angry at shit like that?”

Her worried brow makes a stunning return, sucking in her smile like a black hole. She struggles to answer like she’s mentally filing through acceptable responses, trying to find the one that will get her out of this as soon as possible. Finally, she says, “Anger is destructive.”

Three words. Vague but intriguing enough for me to know that I want in. Not into her heart or even her bed—God, no. Rephrase—I want into the little house. Yes, I need to flesh out my ghostly no-name character. But more, I need to unlock why my creative side finds this woman so damn fascinating.

In our silence, she gnaws at her inner lip and fixates on her doormat like she’s gone wherever the mention ofangertook her.Where are you right now? I want to ask, but I know she won’t answer.

Then, a sharp inhale brings on a measured smile, like she’s flipped a switch. “Years of practice help, too. It wasn’t so awful, Jack—someone standing up for me—as long as you never think I can’t do it myself.”

My lips curl as we lock eyes. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Briefly, her forced smile turns genuine. She’s damn beautiful, and she has no idea.

“Well, um, thanks—”

“Oh, who’s this?” A long-haired black cat circles her feet, giving me a suspicious look. He lets out an exasperated meow as if to say,we’re a little busy, buddy.

I thrust the wine at her and scoop him up—a move he gratefully accepts. Purrs rumble against my chest as I stroke his silky fur.

“Jack, meet Edgar Allan Poe,” she says, sounding surprised.

“A literary cat. What a novel idea.” My eyes find hers again, and yes, maybe it’s like I’m holding her cat hostage, but I try my luck anyway. “Have a glass of wine with me?”

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