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When Julie had told us that the second Stan walked into the office, Walter had sidled up to the big dog and started cleaning his fur, I knew, without a doubt, it had been love at first lick.
My poor little buddy.
And now, I was going to have to leave him to mourn by himself.
Wes had asked me to join him on a recruiting trip for the Mavericks, and even though I’d much rather stay home and console my heartbroken cat than go to Phoenix for the next week, I needed to go. I needed to start getting my feet wet and diving headfirst into my job with the Mavericks’ organization.
I tossed my toiletries into my suitcase and zipped it shut. Sitting on the bed beside Walter and stroking my fingers behind his ears, I said, “It’ll be okay, buddy. I promise, it’ll be okay.”
He purred, but his eyes were still sad.
Kline walked into the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. “All set?”
I nodded, stood up from the bed, and kissed the top of Walter’s head. “I’ll be back in a week, buddy. Be good for Kline while I’m gone.”
My husband grabbed my suitcase, and I followed his lead into the hallway.
“Promise me you’ll take good care of Walter while I’m gone,” I said as we stepped into the elevator.
“I promise, baby.”
“My kind of good care,” I specified.
“Nothing but the best for the grumpy cat,” he assured me.
“And promise me you’ll take him places. He needs to get out of the apartment. I think it would be good for him while I’m gone.”
He grinned, laughing and groaning softly. “I promise. You have nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Walter and I will bond like fucking hydrogen while you’re gone.”
I moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and looking up into his blue eyes. “What about you? Will my husband be okay, too?”
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll be missing you for the next week, but there’s only one thing I need to hear to make it okay.”
I smiled. “I’ll be missing you too.”
New Jersey/New York, Wednesday, May 10th, Late Morning
Sunlight streaked through the windshield as I pulled to a stop and put the rental car in park. I’d have to do something more permanent about our lack of vehicle eventually, but I wanted to leave something for when Georgie got home. There was a risk she’d be feeling left out or pushed at that point thanks to my unconventionally large surprises, and I wanted at least one thing to be completely of her making. Picking out a couple of cars seemed like a good start.
I’d seen fifteen houses in the last two days, and not one of them had been right. Too big or too small, I was starting to feel a little like Goldilocks—lost and tired and hoping someone would show up with some beds. But my Realtor said she had a feeling about this one, and it was located less than thirty minutes from Georgia’s parents, Dick and Savannah, in a pretty little town in New Jersey. I wasn’t sure if that was really a pro or a con, but thirty minutes was safe either way—far enough if she didn’t want to be close, just a short trip if she did. And the work commute to the city wouldn’t be traumatizing either. It often took more than thirty minutes to get from one place in the city to the other anyway.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked, turning to my only companion and helper in the search for the perfect home.
He didn’t say much, but then, I didn’t really expect him to. We were really just starting to come to terms with one another, and he still felt lingering animosity about our most recent disagreement. But Georgie trusted him, so I knew making an effort to show I did too would go a long way toward making her feel comfortable about our new normal. Even though she was the only one going through a major professional change, we were still very much a we now, and I wanted the change to get marked with just enough significance.
“I’m not sure yet either,” I told Walter. “Maybe you’ll know once you lick yourself in a few rooms.”
He meowed in agreement, a huge step in the right direction, and then leaned his head toward me so I could hook the thin leash to his collar.
I hopped out first and helped him to the ground so he wouldn’t hurt his paws. The picture of us together was ridiculous—confirmed by the Realtor’s face on the first day. Kline Brooks, the eccentric billionaire who goes nowhere without his cat.
Far from the truth, but luckily, all I’d had to say was “my wife loves this cat” for the sweet, middle-aged woman to understand.
“Mr. Brooks,” she greeted us as Walter and I climbed the small hill of the driveway.
“Hey, Helen,” I replied, watching with never-ending fascination as she got down on her knees and greeted Walter with strokes and kisses.
