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But it’s not the setup that has my heart palpitating. It’s the woman sitting in one of the chairs. “Oh my gosh. Is that Brit Sheers?” I grab Miles’s arm because I suddenly feel light-headed.
“It is.”
“What is she doing here? She’s my unicorn. I think I’m going to hyperventilate. Where is Kat? What’s going on? Does she know about this?”
Brit pushes out of the chair, her wide, perfect, white-toothed smile glinting in the camera lights. She’s even more beautiful in real life than she is on camera, and that’s saying something.
“Kitty Hart! It’s so wonderful to finally meet you!” She extends a hand.
“You’re real, and you’re talking to me,” I mumble.
Black spots and white dots swim in the edges of my vision, slowly washing over her face like the tide coming in. I don’t have a chance to hold out my own hand, because suddenly the world goes dark.
“Kitty? Babe?” There’s a hand on my cheek, tapping gently.
I blink.
“I think she’s coming around.” Miles’s face appears, the wave of black slow to recede. “Hey, you okay?”
“I . . . have no idea.” I’m completely disoriented.
Kat is hovering over his shoulder, her fingers at her lips. “I told you the surprise would freak her out.”
Miles helps me into a sitting position. “Take it slow.”
My gaze shifts from Miles to Kat, who is wringing her hands, but also smiling ear to ear. I realize that Brit Sheers wasn’t a strange dream. I’m really sitting on the floor of Kat’s Cat Café, and Brit’s really here.
“Oh my gosh, did I just faint?”
“You did. I’m sorry. I probably should have told you what I was planning, but I didn’t want to give you the chance to back out, and I know how much you love Brit. I thought maybe she would reach out and send you a message, but she wants to interview you, so here we are,” Miles word-vomits those two very long sentences in under ten seconds.
It takes me six times as long to process them because I’m still hazy after my fainting spell.
Brit Sheers hands me a glass of orange juice. “Here, drink this. It’ll help.”
“I can’t believe you’re real and you’re handing me orange juice. I also can’t believe I fainted.” I take the glass, then tack on a “thank you.”
I take several sips, wait a couple minutes for the sugar to work its magic, and then allow Miles and Kat to help me to my feet. I’m lucky that it’s winter and I’m wearing a dress and leggings, and that I didn’t flash anyone my underwear.
I wobble my way to the chair opposite Brit. “I’m confused about what’s happening here,” I admit.
A trio of people stand off to the side with what looks like a toolbox. Brit holds up her hand. “Give us a minute, then you can work your makeup magic.”
They shuffle off, muttering apologies.
Brit’s attention returns to me. Miles is standing by the treat display with Kat. I would love it if he was holding my hand, but I realize that would be super awkward.
“Miles reached out after what happened on social media, and I saw a great opportunity to showcase you and your business. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time, and I want more people to know about the woman behind that video and give you a chance to share the true story.”
“That video has been the worst thing to happen to me,” I mutter.
“That video was totally taken out of context. And I know exactly what it’s like to be in your shoes.” Her smile is full of empathy. “I’m hoping we can clear up the misunderstanding with today’s interview.”
“I’m not sure how you’ll do that when there’s no proof that I didn’t intentionally tackle my boyfriend’s dog,” I admit.
“I’ll be able to help with that. I want the world to see the authentic you, the same you that I fell in love with when you started your cat-sitting business four years ago. It’ll be like having a conversation at the dinner table. Casual and informal. Just be you.”
“I can do that. Just be me.”
Her makeup team swoops in and takes care of my face and hair before they touch her up. And then the camera crew is counting down from five. I glance over at Miles, who gives me a thumbs-up.
As if on cue, Tux comes padding across the room and jumps into my lap as we go live. One of the crew members steps up, as if he’s going to remove the kitty, but Miles stops him.
Tux nudges my chin with his nose, then kneads my legs to make himself comfortable, despite the camera crew and all the lights shining directly on us.
“Hello, fans! I’m on location just outside of Toronto in the quaint town of Terra Cotta, at Kat’s Cat Café and Rescue Shelter with the one and only Kitty Hart, owner of the famous cat-sitting and training company, the Kitty Whisperer. Kitty, it’s a pleasure to have you with us today,” Brit says brightly.
