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“It’s his birthday this weekend, and he’s working,” she whimpered.
“He’s a millionaire jackass,” I reminded her. “I’m sure he’s fine. Let his cat die and put it out of misery. Living with him must just be awful.”
“I can’t let his cat die!” Aubrey shrieked. I heard Ethan laugh in the background, glad this ridiculous request amused someone. “Mer, please! He asked me to do it until Sunday, so he won’t even be there. He doesn’t have to know it was you.”
My morning meeting filtered into the conference room, distracting me from whatever else Aubrey said.
“Why can’t Ezra do it?”
“He’s allergic,” she replied. “Ethan says he’ll buy you all the wine you want.”
“Fine,” I finally snapped. “Just text me how to get in and I’ll do it. Once. That cat better be an exotic animal worth saving, otherwise I’ll never forgive you.”
After they shouted how much they appreciated me, I grumbled a few words and hung up. Breaking into Rowan Ellis’s house to feed his cat was not what I wanted to think about before calling the mayor. What if his cat is one of those scary looking furless ones? Or what if it’s as much of a jackass as he is?
“Meredith,” Harrison stood at my door, “we’re ready for you.”
I grabbed my laptop from my desk and followed him into the conference room where Monica and her intern sat. I bet her intern wasn’t obsessed with beautiful men who were tragically unattainable, and also creeps.
My plan after work was to dump the cat food bag on the floor and hope for the best, but I knew I’d have to come back again and handle its litter box.I bet it’s diamond encrusted and electric.
Parking my car and walking along the sidewalk beneath towering, historic mansions, I wondered why Rowan lived there and not in some new condo downtown. He was out of town for half the year with baseball as it was.
Standing outside his house, with its charming dormer windows and flower boxes, clearly maintained by a professional, I looked around to make sure neighbors didn’t think I was a criminal. Or a lady friend of the night. It’s after six. I didn’t want to be his lady of the early evening, either. In fact, I didn’t want to be hisanythingseenanywherenear his house for fear of someone thinking I’m a deranged fan and calling the cops.
Going around back, thinking that looked any less suspicious, I entered the alarm code Aubrey sent me into the pad at Rowan’s back door. The setting summer sun glowed behind me, its rosy fingers stretching along the mowed lawn, porch swing, and flower garden. If the security code hadn’t worked, I wouldn’t have believed any part of that was Rowan’s house.
His cat was pacing at the door when I stepped inside, greeted by the familiar scent of his cologne, like he just stepped into another room.
“You’re not exotic,” I grumbled, squatting to pet the gray striped, normal-looking cat. Its whiskers tickled as it rubbed its head against my knuckles. Aubrey neglected to tell me where to find its food, diminishing my hope of a quick in and out as I scoured the first floor for any sign of cat food until the cat pawed at a closed door, meowing for me to open it.
The cat walked between my legs before rushing to its food dish in a corner. Its bag of food was in a plastic bin on top of the dryer, next to folded towels and clothes. My towels felt like sand paper compared to Rowan’s, and I wondered if he’d notice one missing.
I was buried in the bag of food when the doorbell rang twice. Please don’t be the police. Finishing my task of feeding the cat, feeling sort of guilty for not knowing its name, I slipped out of the laundry room and traced my steps to the back door. The ringing stopped. I flipped off the lights and froze as I reached the kitchen.
“Happy bi—”
“Uh…” I wasn’t sure where to look. Two enormously fake boobs were pouring out of the slinkiest piece of black fabric. “What’s going on?” I wasn’t even supposed to be there, but there I was with an intruder who, for all I knew, was Rowan’s special friend. Or a burglar.
“I’m Charity, and I’m here to give your husband his birthday present,” she replied, her voice low and raspy. “I thought the open door was an invitation.”
“Definitely not, Charity.” I glanced around, fidgeting with my phone. “You can just leave your balloons and I’ll tell him you stopped by.” At what point do I call the police?
“What the hell is going on?” A very groggy, very annoyed Rowan shouted from the kitchen doorway. His eyes passed between us, with Charity bouncing slightly as she realized who my husband was.
“Happy birthday to you,” she began singing, stepping toward him. “Happy birthday, dear Row—” He lifted her hands from the bag strap running along his chest, gently guiding her away from him.
“I’m just going to… Um, the cat’s fed… So…” I bit my lip, slowly backing up toward the door to Rowan’s backyard. He looked around Charity at me, his face contorted with worry. He was home early. I did my job after just one shift.
Some of Rowan’s neighbors were peering over their fences at me when I ran across the backyard, thankful I was a nobody. The bass of music from a car parked across the street pulsed into the air, getting louder as the driver rolled down his window.
“Charity done?” A man called out to me as I reached my car. Um. I tried ignoring him, and thankfully it worked because Charity came walking out of the house. She smiled at me, and I’m pretty sure her enormous tatas did, too, as she slid into the backseat of the car.
Glancing back at Rowan’s house, I waited a second to see if I’d wake up from that nightmare.
I was almost free of this favor for Aubrey until Rowan called for me from his front door. As I turned around, I saw him waving at me. His palm was rigid and quick. Being the good person I am, I reluctantly walked up the path to his door.
“That was fun,” I grimaced. “Welcome home and happy birthday.”
