Page 33 of Mr. Big Shot

“You don’t even know him.”

My tone takes us both aback. Moira too, apparently, because she latches onto Jasper’s leg under the table.

There’s a feline shriek and then Jasper flies back off his chair. “Shit. Get off me!” Then, under his breath, “God I hate your cat.”

“She was just trying to protect me,” I fire back, fiercely protective of the wild beast I let live in my apartment rent-free.

I mean, I think that’s why she attacked him. You never know with Moira. She might have just seen Jasper as the weakest link standing between her and the shrimp in our takeout.

When he’s not looking, I reach for a shrimp and call for Moira so she’ll follow me into my bedroom. Usually, I don’t let her in here without me because she enjoys nothing more than cleaning her anus on top of my pillow, but right now I think it’s best if I separate the two of them.

She comes, but her begrudging attitude says, Why me? Kick Mr. Blondie out instead. He sucks.

She kind of has a point.

“Here, have a shrimp.”

I shut the door and sit back down at the table, trying for polite peace. “Sorry about that.”

“You really should have her trained,” he mumbles.

“Can you train cats?” I ask with levity in my tone as I reach for more food. “I thought they trained us…”

“Scarlett…”

This conversation isn’t going anywhere good, and he must sense it too because he shifts topics. “My parents want us to meet them downtown for dinner on Saturday.”

“Oh.”

I thought I did a good job of masking my initial annoyance, but it seems Jasper still catches it because he frowns across the table, making me feel like I need to tack on, “We just saw them. That’s all.”

“Three weeks ago,” he admonishes. “And you cut out early from dinner, remember? My mom brings it up every time we talk.”

I’m sure she does. I can only imagine how much shit they talk about me during their daily phone calls.

“But Saturday won’t work though. My company is hosting a Halloween party. Did you see the evite I forwarded to you?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I sort of thought we’d skip out on that.”

My jaw drops. “No way. Are you kidding? It sounds awesome.”

“A party full of corporate lawyers?” He winces like just the thought alone gives him heartburn.

“It’s my dad’s company, Jasper.”

It’s important for me to show my face at things like this, but more than that, I really want to go! I have the best costume. I rented it from a legitimate costume shop rather than buying something generic online. I’m going as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. Moira was supposed to be the Wicked Witch of the West (hello, perfect casting), but she peed on her black hat. I have the trademark sparkly red shoes and a little basket with a stuffed Toto poking his head out. A professional is coming over to do my hair and makeup in the afternoon so I’ll have those signature ribboned pigtails as well.

“I put your costume on hold at the shop. The lion one.”

He reaches for more noodles. “The cowardly lion?”

“I mostly picked it because of your hair color, not your personality,” I say with a light laugh, trying, trying, trying to get us back to our old place. Why does it just seem so hard with us lately? “If it’s not your jam, you can go down and look for something else, but with it being so close to Halloween, I wouldn’t be surprised if everything’s been picked over already.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I’ll just figure something out.”

We eat the rest of our dinner in terse silence. Every scrape of our forks is louder than the last. When I load my dish into the dishwasher, it sounds like a bomb detonating.

I invite him to stay the night while, in my head, I actively hope he declines the offer. Maybe he can sense my true feelings because he shakes his head and claims he has an early morning anyway, just like I do. He kisses my cheek at the door, and he leaves.

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