Page 27 of Against All Odds

I don’t know if I care.

Kiss me. Please. Show me that someone in this world wants me and I’m worthy.

Everett brushes his thumb against my cheek. “I want to kiss you more than you can even know, but the last thing I want to do is mess with your head. You have to make the final move, Violet.”

My hand rests on his chest, and I can feel the pounding of his heart. I can’t do this. I can’t give my shattered heart to this manwho is so wonderful. My life is falling apart at the seams and there is not enough thread to hold it together.

He brings his forehead to rest on mine and I inhale his scent, letting it fill me as I try to grapple with my racing mind.

Before I can say anything, his phone rings. “Shit,” he grumbles and leans back, breaking this moment.

Thank God. I . . . wasn’t ready or maybe I was, but I’m too afraid to let myself hope.

Everett clears his throat. “I have to take this.”

He’s on his feet, walking toward the kitchen. “I see. Yes. I’ll be right there,” he says and then walks to me. “I have to go.”

I nod. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine . . . I just have to deal with something.”

The way he says it causes my heart to race. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

He grabs his jacket, pulling it on. “I’m sorry too. We’ll talk soon.”

And then he’s gone, and I’m left feeling like the closing of the door means so much more.

six

Everett

“Dr. Finnegan, you don’t understand. Karen complains all the time. And I mean all the time. She’s never happy. She hates everything and everyone.”

“Yes, but you said she’s not complaining,” I say slowly, looking down at the docile cat.

“That’s my point. She’s sick.”

Some days I really question my life choices. This is one of those. “Mrs. Pavlov, I understand that you’re concerned about Karen.”

“Yes, I am. She’s not being a Karen.”

“But that doesn’t mean she’s sick.”

Mrs. Pavlov strokes the cat’s back. “She’s letting me touch her. Do you see this? She’s possessed, or maybe she was switched with a replica.”

I clear my throat. “Okay, so I want to be sure I understand. Karen, the cat, isn’t acting like a Karen who is a drama queen? You’re worried this means something is wrong.”

She nods. “Yes, exactly. You have to fix her. Find out why she’s suddenly letting. Me. Touch. Her.”

“All right, let’s take a look.”

I complete an exam with Karen not hissing at me once—not a normal occurrence—but I don’t find anything out of the ordinary. Everything looks normal, and there’s nothing that I could even try to blame it on.

“Karen looks great, Mrs. P. I think that we can just keep an eye on it, see if over the next week or so she returns to her typical self, and if not, maybe be happy that she’s being nice.”

That’s really all I got.

She picks up Karen and puts her back in the carrier. “I would’ve sworn we’d find something.”

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