Page 41 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
Did I just imply thathehas a crush onme? Because of the socks?
I did, didn’t I.
I meant it as a throwaway joke—about the cat. But now it sounds like I’ve drawn some sort of tragic line between his gift of reindeer socks and the language of kitten courtship, and now he’s going to think I think he’s been flirting with me. With socks. Which… to be fair, I did think.
But he doesn’t know that.
Or at least—hedidn’t.
His eyes narrow slightly, like he’s trying to decide whether I’m teasing him or having a breakdown. And honestly, I’m not sure myself.
I panic.
“Anyway, thank you—sorry—I didn’t mean that how it sounded—she’s just really into soft textiles—bye!”
I turn around. I don’t look at him. I don’t even breathe properly until I’ve closed the door behind me and locked it like a person who’s definitely not about to combust from embarrassment.
Inside, I drop Twinklesocks to the floor, peel off my dripping coat, and mutter, “You’re the worst.”
She shakes her damp fur all over the entryway rug and sashays off, smug as you like.
I groan and press my forehead to the door.
I’ve done that awful thing—the thing women are accused of: inventing signals where there weren’t any, turning a perfectly kind gesture into some clumsy narrative aboutmeaning, and now I’ve basically accused him of being into me.
Because ofsocks.
Fuckity, fuck.
I close my eyes and exhale slowly through my nose like I’ve just disarmed a bomb.
Next time I see him, I’m going to have to act completely normal. Just… unbothered and breezy and totally not like I’ve replayed this moment seventeen times and want to move into a cave.
And under no circumstances will I mention knitwear again.
Chapter eleven
Deck the Halls (with Fairy Lights)
Jasper
It’s the third time this week I’ve been to Callum’s.
I tell myself that’s reasonable. He asked for my opinion on a project he’s looking at—something to do with a Japanese investor and expansion timelines. We’re talking strategy, not making social calls. It’s work. Or close enough.
Still, I pause before ringing the doorbell. Not because I’ve got doubts about the meeting. I just... hesitate. Like my subconscious is trying to point something out that I’m not in the mood to hear.
Stella opens the door when I finally ring the bell. “You again,” she says, stepping aside.
“I’m giving Callum free consultancy,” I mutter. “He should be grateful.”
She grins. “Oh, he is. He has been the other two times you were here this week.”
“I’m efficient.”
“You’re lurking,” she says, but there’s no bite to it. She gestures down the hall. “He’s just finishing up a call. You can go through.”
I nod and step inside.
