“I’ll get him,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, wait. You can’t just go back there. I have—there are things on my desk.” She was already walking, heels clicking on the hardwoods. “Let me.”
I followed her anyway, because it was my cat. Or my store’s cat. Right now, I didn’t really want to claim him at all.
Her office was exact and tidy, like everything else about Delphine. A glass desk, a lamp with a linen shade, a single potted orchid on the windowsill. And there, next to a half-eaten sandwich and a cup of cold coffee, wasThe Year of Magical Thinking.Facedown, open to a page about a third of the way through.
A quick glance told me she’d seen me see it. A muscle in her cheek flexed, and she lifted her chin slightly. However, she didn’t say anything. Neither did I.
Poe, the naughtiest cat in the world, had wedged himself under a low wooden cabinet against the far wall, in the narrow gap between the bottom shelf and the floor. How he’d fit was a mystery of physics. Only his tail was visible, flicking back and forth as if to taunt us with his cleverness.
“Poe,” I said, crouching down. “Come on, buddy. Time to go.”
The tail stopped moving. Then resumed. He was ignoring me.
“Poe. Let’s go.” I reached under the cabinet but couldn’t get close enough without pressing my face to the floor. My fingers grazed fur, and Poe shifted further back.
“I don’t think he’s coming out for you,” Delphine said.
With my gaze still on Poe’s backside, I said, “He never does anything I want him to do. Honestly. You said you want a cat? You can have him.”
“I think he prefers books to art,” Delphine said. “But that’s just a guess.”
“This cat’s going to drive me completely mad. If my mother hadn’t loved him so much I’d take him down to the shelter.”
“You don’t mean that. Let me try.” She walked over and crouched down next to me. The scent of her perfume, warm and slightly sweet, hit me, and I temporarily lost the ability to think about the cat or anything else.
“Poe,” she said softly. “Come here, sweet boy.”
I’d never heard that tone in her voice before. Not even with Annie or the other kids. Was it possible she had a soft spot for the worst cat ever?
A low purr started up from under the cabinet. I could hear it vibrating against the wood floor.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I sat up, resting my back against the wall.
“Poe, baby. Come on, it’s time to go.” She reached under the cabinet with one hand and Poe emerged like he’d been waiting for an invitation, pressing his head into her palm, eyes half-closed. He walked right past me and jumped into her chair, curling up like he was ready for a long nap.
“He hardly ever purrs,” I said, again. Because apparently it needed to be pointed out a second time.
“Maybe he knows I need it.” She picked Poe up, and he settled against her chest like he’d been doing it his whole life, one paw draped over her shoulder. The image of Delphine Delacroix in her elegant gray dress holding my enormous, badly behaved orange cat was something I suspected would stay with me for a long time. Not good.
“I’m sorry about Poe,” I said, standing up. “I’ve never seen him show any interest in leaving the shop.”
“Maybe he likes me,” Delphine said. “I’ve always been more popular with cats than people. They get me.”
That made me laugh, even though it was sad. “I like you.”Even if I don’t get you.
She made a sound, somewhere between a gasp and sigh. In fact, it sounded almost like the noise Poe made right before he got his daily dish of wet food. “That’s nice.”
“This is the spot where you’re supposed to say you like me too.”
That earned a laugh from her. “As it turns out, you’re impossible not to like.”
“Well, then, I guess I have something to thank Poe for, after all,” I said.
She handed Poe over, and our hands brushed in the transfer. Just fingers against fingers, brief and accidental. She pulled back first.
“I think I might come to Thursday’s meeting,” Delphine said.
