Page 63 of Desperately Seeking Kitty

Before Francine could ask more questions, I went back to my closet-sized office and dug into my sandwich. I hadn’t even requested anything in particular, but she’d delivered my favorite from the deli—thick-sliced carved turkey with a layer of cranberry dressing. But the Christmas paper part of the deal was new.

I smiled as I finished the first half and carefully wrapped up the rest for dinner, though I wanted to eat it now. I wondered if the deli would do that Christmas paper add-on for me next time I ordered or if that touch was all Kitty.

It had to be Kitty. But how did someone “indifferent” to Christmas have paper and tags? Maybe she’d bought them to give a gift to Magnus.

I crumpled the paper in my fist. I was not going to focus on silly jealousy now. Magnus hadn’t been inside her last night, now had he?

The important thing was that I was part of her present—and I intended to stay that way.

Hopefully.

I pulled out my phone, sent her a quick, casual text—no pressure here, nope, no ma’am—and shut off my phone to deal with my next appointment. I had to clear my mind to handle the rest of my day.

Certainty was just not a factor when it came to Kitty Armor.

FOURTEEN

The man was tryingto kill me.

On that particular day, I could’ve been referring to one of the three men in my life but at this moment, I was thinking of Clint. And only Clint.

I expected him to be pissed at me. He had every right to be. I’d sneaked around and been uncommunicative and late at fulfilling his very simple requests—ones I’d even offered to do.

I’d just conveniently forgotten the fact that I’d spent the better part of the last year locked away in my apartment because I couldn’t handle people.

Not just people. The noises of the city. The traffic. The pedestrians getting too close on the sidewalk. Even remembering how to order at the counter of the deli when I wasn’t familiar with the menu and had to think on my feet while the clerk waited.

And then when I did, stuttering through the words, trying to act as if ordering was an everyday activity for me like every other normal person.

My apartment was a controlled environment. I said who came and went—and that was mostly no one.

Or it had been until Clint.

Even Mag, the latest pebble in my shoe, had only been to my apartment twice in the eighteen months we’d been business partners. One of those times he’d stayed for a week, which had been awkward and a little panic-inducing at first until I’d calmed down around him. Somehow he related to my issues due to his own anxiety problems in the past.

But at no time had I been tempted to mount him like a polo pony. That urge was strictly reserved for Clint.

We’d never fooled around—God, no. Never even hugged for more than a few seconds that had ended with a weird laugh on both sides. But we’d talked for hours a day sometimes. There were months of my life in the past year when Mag had been virtually my only link to the outside world—other than my grocery delivery persons and the occasional drop-in visit from my father.

I’d forgotten for a few minutes today with Clint. He had a way of making me feel as if I was the old me…the one who’d been fine with stopping out for a quick errand at the deli or to check in on a…friend’scat.

The woman who could have casual relationships with guys that didn’t last. Ilikedbeing fancy-free.

The lie had sounded good in my head.

And then Muffintop had started getting sick—although I hadn’t realized what was happening right away—and the worse he’d gotten, the worse I had, as well.

I’d stopped going out. The few girlfriends I had stopped calling once partying wasn’t an option for the sad friend who’d started feeling hemmed in by congested bars. Who had to fight the urge not to drink too much, not to have fun but to deaden the pain of knowing I was losing my baby.

My life had become consumed by vet visits and trying new foods and hand-feeding my boy when he hadn’t had the energy to feed himself. Holding his head up as he managed to have a little bit for lunch, trying to keep the flare of hope going even when he wouldn’t so much as take a drink.

Watching him waste away while I tried everything I knew to keep him alive had been one of the hardest things I’d ever gone through.

Was still going through, although he’d been gone now close to a year.

And then finding the strength to let him go…

I wasn’t the same as I’d been before. I didn’t think I ever could be.

---