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“Of course, sir.”
Completely out of character for me, but something tugging at my icy heartstrings, I walk slowly toward the creature and stay far enough back to not scare it. “Hello, little one.”
The cat is gray with different colored markings and doesn’t look very old. It’s definitely a kitten and is very thin. “Come here,” I say, shifting my suit pants so I can crouch down. I hold out the salami, and it begins to slowly creep out from its hiding spot. “You hungry?”
It approaches me slowly, sniffs the meat, then grabs it out of my hand with its teeth. I try to pick it up and it hisses at me, claws out to draw blood on my hand before it scurries back behind the dumpster, which smells terrible.
“Dammit,” I say, the scratch stinging.
“Sir, allow me,” Lucas says, appearing out of nowhere. “I have gloves.”
“Thanks.” I stand and watch him coax the cat over with nothing in his hand. He rubs his fingers together, which is enough to fool it into thinking he has more treats. When the cat gets close enough, Lucas grabs it gently and tucks it under his arm like a football. It’s hissing and scratching.
“Pop the trunk,” Lucas says, sounding stressed.
“How?” I ask, feeling stupid I don’t know how to operate my own car.
He snorts. “There’s a button.”
I feel around for it, and the trunk pops open.
“You’re not putting it in there are you? It’ll be scared.”
“Grab the blanket,” he says. It’s weird having him give me demands, but I don’t care. I grab the blanket and we awkwardly manage to wrap the kitten inside it.
“You’ll have to try to hold her while I drive to the shelter,” Lucas says, handing me the bundle, which is writhing, meowing, and hissing.
“Her?” I ask.
“Yeah, I looked when I picked her up. She’s no more than a few months old, at that. Malnourished. No collar.”
“Okay,” I say, getting into the backseat and holding the cat tightly. “But go to my place. I’m going to keep her.”
Lucas’s gray eyebrows rise but he smiles. “Are you sure, sir?”
I nod. “Yes, studies have shown animals, particularly cats, if docile enough, can reduce stress and blood pressure in humans. Also, my house is too damn quiet. Internet says I need a pet.”
He laughs and closes the door, getting into the driver’s seat and putting on his blinker to merge into the heavy downtown traffic. The cat isn’t squirming as much and has quieted down, letting out an occasional mewl.
“We have three cats and two dogs. I’m glad you’re getting a pet, sir.” Lucas looks at me through the rearview mirror, his brown eyes sparkling in amusement.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” I murmur.
“I just thought I’d never see the day, if I may be so direct, sir.”
I shake my head. “You may. And call me Lincoln or Linc already, would ya?”
“Of course, sir.”
I’ve asked him no less than twelve times, but he just reverts tosir. It’s like a weekly reminder I do to be called by my name when I consider Lucas more than just an employee, but old habits die hard, I suppose.
“I’m going to stop by the pet supply store and get you what you need, then I will help you get her settled. If that’s all right?”
I slump, relieved. “I didn’t even think that far ahead. Of course, thank you.”
We stop at the store, and I hand him my credit card. “Just get whatever she needs, don’t worry about the price. And get the good food, not that cheap shit.”
He chuckles, taking the card. “Will do.”
