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Isaac startled, walking over to investigate and noticing a paw-shaped smear on the glass.
“Ugh,” he muttered. “What a mess.”
He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was a bit of a clean freak. The sight of a paw print was enough to make him pick up his phone and tell his PA, Charlotte, to schedule an earlier appointment with his window cleaner. He unlocked the door and opened it a crack, calling out into the darkness: “Shoo!”
Suddenly, he felt something small and soft pressing against his calves. When he looked down, he saw a mangy, greaseball of a kitten.
“Nuh-uh,” he said, looking down at it. “No way.”
Isaac was allergic to animals. The very sight of this kitten made his nose start to itch.
“You can go back out where you came from right now, you naughty thing.”
The kitten looked up at him with dark, disobedient eyes.
Miaooooooowwwwwwwwwowowowowow!
Isaac resisted the temptation to boot the kitten out. He wasn’t exactly a fan of furry creatures, sure, but he wasn’t a monster. He pushed the cat gently back outside, grimacing at the feeling of its matted fur on its hands. He grabbed his phone and sent a follow-up message to his PA.
“Call animal control first thing in the morning.”
Not having a stray kitten ruin another million-dollar business deal, thank you very much.
Anyway, on the subject of that possibly-ruined business deal, it was time to kiss some serious ass.
As he was about to punch in the number of the investor he’d had to hang up on, his phone buzzed in his hands.
“Anthony?” he said, unthinking. But it wasn’t Anthony.
“Isaac? Is that you?”
He recognized that voice. It was the voice of a woman in her seventies. She sounded like her nose was being pinched and her ass was clenching, both at the same time.
“Aunt Meg,” he said through gritted teeth. “Why are you calling me?”
A bit rude of him to talk to her like that, but he had his reasons.
“Believe me, Isaac,” she said, “I wouldn’t call you unless I had to. But I felt that it was only right that I give you some news.”
“News?” snarled Isaac. “What news is that? You’ve decided to steal something else from me? My Miami compound, maybe? My business?”
Aunt Meg tutted. “Still got that temper, I see, Isaac. Well, that’s what happens when you choose a life of excess.”
A life of excess? He knew what she was getting at. Aunt Meg thought he slept around. She was an old-fashioned woman and a judgmental one. The truth was, Isaac hadn’t slept with anyone in a long while. Didn’t have time for that. And even when he did, it was usually just a fleeting fuck. Not exactly meaningless, but definitely not meaningful. There was no law against it, though. Consensual one-night stands were perfectly moral. Way better than stringing someone along for months on end if you didn’t have any real feelings for them.
“I’d take a life of excess over a life of misery any day, Aunt Meg,” said Isaac pointedly.
Aunt Meg said nothing for a few moments. Isaac wondered if he’d gone too far. Granted, the woman was miserable. She’d spent her life in an unhappy marriage with a man who never told her he loved her. She’d never had any close friends and she always had a look on her face like she’d just been crying.
“I’m not calling to argue with you, Isaac,” said Meg. “I’m calling to tell you that your uncle has passed away.”
Shit.
The old man was a grumpy asshole, but he was still a person. And so was Aunt Meg.
“I’m so sorry, Auntie,” said Isaac, softening. “When’s the funeral?”
“It was yesterday,” came the reply.
