Page 40 of Autumn at the Cat Cafe

His jaw literally fell open at the sheer volume of books and junk in front of him.

“Earl went to auctions every Monday. During the week, he shopped at antique stores and thrift stores and other secondhand bookstores and estate sales—”

“I get the picture.” He slumped against the wall. “There’s no way,” he mumbled. “No way to get this done in a year, much less a month.”

“Sure we can.” Her tone was full of confidence as she walked over to the nearest stacks of books piled halfway to the ceiling, some looking like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Only a miracle was keeping them from toppling over. “This is where he kept a lot of his doubles. He’d buy boxes and crates of books online and out in the wild and go through them. Then he’d store whatever duplicates he had back here. That way he never ran out of inventory.”

“Great,” he said faintly.

She faced him and smiled. “We’ve got this, Harvard Boy.”

He couldn’t even joke with the nicknames. “If you say so.”

Sir Meow sauntered inside, gave a quick imperial glance around the room, then promptly left.

“Even the cat knows this is crazy,” Leo said.

“It’s not crazy. We’re going to take a picture of each one, then pack them in labeled boxes. Then we’ll have room to move some of the books out front in here so the shop will be less cluttered. I’ll fill out the spreadsheets so we know what we have here compared to the front of the shop.”

“I can do the spreadsheets.” She was already doing more than he’d expected.

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ve never seen anyone disappointed about not doing paperwork.”

“What can I say? I’m one of a kind.”

She sure was.

Via picked up a book and aimed her phone camera over the cover. “Time to get busy.”

He crossed his arms in faux indignation. “Anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?”

“All the time.” She poked his arm. “We’re losing daylight here.”

It was already dark outside, so her cliché had no punch. He saluted her for the effort. “Yes, ma’am.”

What was the old saying? Eat an elephant one bite at a time instead of trying to choke down the whole thing? Earl had a huge elephant of a collection, but Via’s confidence was contagious. Time to get to work.

Chapter 9

The next morning, Via skipped her morning walk with Sir. He wasn’t too happy about it, but he would have to deal. She and Leo had worked in the storage room for three hours the night before, and that had been a lot of lifting, pushing, and bending over. She hadn’t done that much hard work since she, Fergus, and their father had renovated the empty, neglected space that had become Pawsitive Vibes. Her back and legs needed a bit of a break.

But her sore muscles weren’t the only reason she was skipping her walk. She tossed and turned last night, thinking about Leo. Or more accurately, about how working in a confined, cluttered space had been an unanticipated dilemma, or benefit, depending on how she looked at it. They could barely move around without brushing, touching, and pressing against each other so often that they had to quit apologizing for it.

Even now as she was slipping on her mustard-hued clogs, her stomach was doing delicious backflips thinking about him. Who wouldn’t be attracted to Leo Brewster, though? She imagined he had plenty of gorgeous women after him. The fact he was single and not interested in any of them kind of blew her mind, although she had no idea if he was being honest about that or not.

She glanced at her watch. She needed to hurry or she’d be late for work. “C’mon, Sir,” she said, motioning for him to follow her as she opened the door.

He dashed out, parked himself in front of Leo’s door, and howled.

Via groaned. There was that big-dog energy again, and she didn’t have the time or patience to deal with it this morning. She marched to him and picked him up. Tried to anyway.

Sir dug his claws into Earl’s almost-threadbare welcome mat. It was so old the message had nearly faded away, but she could still make it out: “Come back with a warrant.” She’d cracked up the first time she saw it. She wasn’t laughing now. Another tug on Sir, but he wouldn’t let go. Then he let out another ear-piercing meow.

“That’s it,” she said. “I’m taking you to the vet. This isn’t normal—”

The door opened and she looked up, her hands around Sir’s ample middle. “Sorry, Leo...” Her words vanished at the sight of him in running shorts, a form-fitting red T-shirt, and spiky bedhead. Sexy for sure, but that wasn’t what had her stupefied.