Page 28 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
Amelia’s next, wrapping me in a hug that smells of perfume and croissant. “You look... windswept.”
“That’s generous,” I mutter. “It’s been a morning.”
Fi slides a fresh flat white toward the empty seat. “We assumed as much. You’re thirty minutes late and you haven’t rage-texted once.”
Lizzie grins from across the table. “Do we need trickery or are you going to tell us everything voluntarily?”
I take the seat, wrap my hands around the mug, and exhale.
“Let me defrost first,” I say. “Then you can interrogate me all you like.”
I take a sip of the flat white, gloriously hot, mercifully strong, and hold the cup a moment longer than necessary.
“Twinklesocks escaped,” I say flatly.
Fi lowers her mug. “Already?”
“Did you find her?” Lizzie asks.
“Yes.”
“Where?” Bri leans in.
“Next door.” I take another sip. “The landlord had his patio doors open. She invaded his kitchen.”
Four mouths fall open.
Amelia blinks. “So you followed her into his kitchen?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t know she was in his kitchen. I was crawling through the hedges. In the garden. Like a mad woman.”
They’re already smiling.
“In what?” Bri asks, far too gleefully.
I close my eyes. “A winter coat. Reindeer pyjamas, and… slippers.”
Fi makes a strangled noise into her coffee. Lizzie actually chokes.
Amelia claps her hands once. “Oh, this is already better than I hoped.”
I take another sip. “Has any one of you actually met Jasper?”
Amelia raises a brow. “I have.”
That grin. The slow, smug kind that sets off alarm bells around the table.
Bri narrows her eyes. “What wasthatlook?”
Lizzie leans in. “Did you forget to mention the landlord is hot? He rushed past so quickly on Bonfire night, I couldn’t see.”
Amelia just sips her cappuccino, not even pretending to be innocent.
Fi turns to me. “Miranda. How hot are we talking?”
I set my mug down with a sigh. “He is... hot as lava.”
There’s a squeal from Bri. Lizzie punches the table.
