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“Good one. But life is just a series of chances that create one big adventure. At least that’s how I live.”
“Tell me a bit more about you. How did you end up owning a club?” Curiosity killed the cat and she’s finally comfortable enough to ask me some questions.
“I’ve had a variety of businesses. I started with buying apartments cheap, renovating them and leasing them. After a couple years, I had an option to buy a whole building and took the chance. Some friends and I went in together with the understanding that in ten years we would have it paid off and I’d buy them out.”
I slice strawberries while we chat and then slide the bowl to her with a lemon and sugar for her to mix.
“After three years we had the first one paid off and then I had the chance to buy a couple buildings downtown and so I approached the guys again and we made another deal. We cleaned up the bottom floors and rented them to a restaurant guru who wanted to open some new concepts. Since the buildings were four levels, we took the second and third floors of both and made it into The Golden Girl. The fourth floor hasn’t really been touched yet, but it’s there for whatever we decide to do with it.”
“So you own the building where we met you? That’s a nice building. I’m shocked you didn’t decide to make the top floor your home.” She seems genuinely confused, but I can see her point.
“I considered it, but this is the first building we bought, and I don’t ever want to forget where I started.”
She nods at me and keeps stirring the strawberries in the bowl when I see Mr. Big come prancing into the living area.
“I’ve not seen him since you got here,” I comment, wondering what he is going to do. The big reason I don’t like cats is you can’t keep them off the counter tops and who wants cat fur and all the other crap on their counters or in their food. I mean that thing pees and poops then walks in it.
I shake my head but don’t say anything as he makes his way to Kollyns and jumps into her lap.
“Well, it’s nice to see you tonight. How has your day been?” She really talks to this cat as though he’s a human.
He meows at her, then puts his head on her shoulder and rubs all over her. She keeps talking to him until he jumps off her and onto the counter. I don’t say anything because I can clean up after him before we eat, until he sticks his nose into the sugared berries.
“No!” she screams at him. “Mr. Big, that’s a no-no.”
She reaches for him and he swats at her. Damn, this cat is sassy. I watch them go back and forth while she tries to grab him and he jumps into the sink and then across to the other side of the kitchen and onto the top of the fridge.
“Can you please get him out of the kitchen?” I’m holding onto my temper so I don’t scare her.
“Mr. Big, are you a hungry boy? Do you want mama to get you a treat?” She follows him as he jumps off the fridge and up onto the top of the cabinets, even though she can’t get to him at this point.
I watch as she places her hands on her hips and gives him the death stare. “Mr. Big. If you don’t come down right now, you will sleep in your bed tonight. All. By. Yourself.” Then she stomps her foot and I let out a chuckle.
“If you keep laughing, you’re going to be the one who has to get him down.” Kollyns cuts her eyes at me and I zip my lips and throw away the proverbial key.
While she tries to deal with the cat, I throw away the dessert and scrub the counter to get both the stickiness and cat grossness off.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to change while you deal with Mr. Big,” I say before I walk out of the kitchen feeling like I need to scrub my body, which is ridiculous, but it is what it is. I hate cats.
Walking into my closet, I strip down to my boxers and toss my clothes into the laundry bin before pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Then I head into the bathroom to take a quick shower before walking into my office to turn on the radio so we’re not sitting in silence.
When I walk back into the kitchen, Kollyns is holding the cat on the floor, but there is sugar all over the counter and floor and smoke is coming out of the oven. How long was I gone?
“What the hell is going on?” I run to the oven and turn it off before grabbing some hot pads and opening the door. The acrid smoke fills the room.
I manage to get all three dishes out without burning myself, though the chicken is crispy and the top of the mac and cheese is black. The green bean stuff doesn’t have a color to it and it smells awful. I wave the smoke out of my face and then the shrill of the smoke alarm goes off.
“Well fuck,” I curse and the cat darts out of Kollyns arms and back toward her room. Who cares what happens to that cat, I have to get this turned off and call the front desk.
“Can you dial 1-2-9 on the phone in the laundry room and tell Graham that it’s a false alarm and to call the fire department so they don’t show up.”
“Yeah. Sure.” She runs to the phone while I grab the tall vase on the sideboard and try to hit the reset button on the smoke alarm. It takes a couple times, but once I stand in the chair, I don’t need the stupid vase and pull the whole thing out of the ceiling, ripping it from the wires and taking out the batteries.
The screaming stops and I can finally hear myself breathing again. Kollyns comes in and stares at me while I’m standing in the chair with the rest of the smoke alarm in my hands.
“Looks like you’re going to need a new one of those. Should I call Graham back and ask him to order one?”
She's such a smart ass, and I love it.
