Page 9 of The Broken Hearts Club

I nodded. “That’s the cat distribution system at work. If you don’t own a cat, one will be appointed to you. Kind of like a public defender.” I looked around, but the cat was nowhere to be seen. “Poor thing. I probably scared her half to death when I screamed.”

He chuckled and said, “I’ve never heard anything quite like that. On the plus side, I’m forever telling her to get off the kitchen island and counters, and I’m pretty sure you cured her of ever jumping up here again.”

“I should go find her and try to make amends.”

“Don’t bother. She won’t like you.”

“Why would you say such a mean thing?”

“It’s nothing personal, that’s just how she is. She doesn’t let me touch her. Every time I need to take her to the vet, it’s this whole ordeal of trying to lure her into the cat carrier. It makes me feel like Wile E. Coyote, trying to catch the Road Runner.”

“So, you share your home with a feral cat.”

“I don’t think she’s feral, exactly. She just hates people.”

I raised a brow and asked, “How is that different than being feral?”

“How would I know? I’m not a cat expert.”

“I’m going to go talk to her. What’s her name?”

“I just call her Cat.”

“Oh, come on! No wonder she hates you.”

“Why? What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s not a name! It’d be like me walking around addressing everyone I met as ‘Human.’ No, no, don’t tell me your name. I don’t care about you at all, so Human will suffice.”

He rolled his eyes, and when I started to get up, he said, “Eat some dinner first. Then you can spend the rest of the evening getting rejected by Cat the cat.”

I sat back down, because I was incredibly hungry. After I polished off a big bowl of tofu and veggies over rice, I helped him pack up the leftovers. He didn’t just stick the paper boxes in the fridge, like a normal person. Instead, he transferred everything into glass bowls with blue plastic lids, which got stacked neatly in his immaculate refrigerator.

Once we were finished, I said, “Thanks for dinner. I’m going to go find your cat now. Can I name her?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Any ideas where to look?”

“Her room is at the front of the house.”

I thought he was kidding, but no. The room in question was probably meant to be a formal living room, judging by the pretty chandelier and impressive, marble-fronted fireplace. Instead, it had been transformed into a cat wonderland.

The room was a huge contrast to the rest of Miller’s tidy, perfectly organized home. It was scattered with toys, and it contained six cat trees in various sizes, shapes, and configurations, along with no fewer than ten pet beds.

I took one look at the total chaos and pure pet indulgence and grinned. I really liked this guy.

3

Miller

While Collie was off trying to bond with the wild animal that shared my home, I tidied up a bit. Then I collected some spare bedding and brought it to the office.

After maybe twenty minutes, I went in search of my houseguest. I figured his mission would have ended in heartbreak by now. Instead, I found Collie curled up in the largest of the pet beds with my traitorous cat in his arms. She was purring contentedly as he scratched her neck.

When he noticed me standing in the doorway, he announced, “I’ve named her Hecate Persephone Inkblot van der Void. Kate for short.”

“So, you changed her name from Cat to Kate. That’s barely different.”