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They laughed again, and when Alanna finally managed to bring her wine glass to her lips, she found her hand was shaking.
“Soooo,” her mother said, clearly trying to break the tension. “Alanna, when are you going to apologize to that sweet handyman?”
Ch. 30 Sully
SullyBrookswasthekind of person who delighted in a challenge. He never flinched from painstakingly combing through an ocean of computer code to identify a problem or figuring out how to get an entire squadron of Marines and their gear to a forward operating base with only a week’s notice.
He eagerly purchased the very worst house on the block in order to tear it down and build it back up. Room by room. Inch by inch.
And then there was Sheba the cat.
Presently, Sully sat cross-legged in his bedroom, gently swinging a long plastic stick through the air. A string at the end of the stick attached to two stiff feathers that cut through the air, fluttering with a distinct hum.
The wonderful woman at the pet store, Everly, had shown him just how to make the feathers flutter. She swore the toy was irresistible to cats.
Irresistible. That was the exact word she’d used.
Everly had been gregarious, kind, and a feline wunderkind. Upon learning he was a new “pet parent,” she’d excitedly pulled his cart from aisle to aisle, delightedly tossing in a deluge of items—a litter box, scratching posts, cat food, treats, and more. Sully was half-convinced that Sheba now had more possessions than he did.
Everly had rung up his “new kitty starter kit” just as a slim young girl with silky black hair had entered the shop with a stack of flyers pressed to her chest. The price of it all had been jaw-dropping, but Everly had insisted every single item was necessary. The only thing Sully had refused to buy was an insanely expensive “cat tower.” The multi-story cat jungle gym filled with platforms, hidey-holes, and even a little cat hammock was priced in the triple digits.
And yet, in spite of the toys, the treats, and gentle words of encouragement, Sheba remained unmoved. Specifically, she remained unmoved from beneath the bed where she’d entrenched herself as soon as Sully had released her from the bathroom.
It’d been two long days since the start ofThe Sheba Project.
“I’ve read a lot about cats,” Sully informed Sheba as the feathers made figure eights between man and bed. “And I’ve watched the entire first season ofMy Cat from Hell.Jackson Galaxy is a national treasure, by the way.”
The bald, guitar-case-wielding cat whisperer would probably have a field day with Sheba.
“The whole litter box situation, specifically the fact that you refuse to use it, seems to indicate that you’re territorially insecure,” Sully explained to the cat. The feathers hummed. “That would make sense given your previous home. That old lady probably never cleaned your litter box. Maybe you couldn’t even get to your litter box if there was too much stuff in the way.”
Sully put down the plastic wand and stretched his back. “You’re also highly antisocial,” he continued. “But that behavior comes from fear. My best guess is that your previous owner wasn’t able to care for you properly and you never learned to socialize with humans. Or maybe she mistreated you. Either way, it’s going to take a lot of work to undo those traumas.”
Sully readjusted his glasses and picked up the wand again. “Jackson Galaxy and Everly said I need to connect myself with positive reinforcement, like play and toys.” He used the wand to drag the feathers across the floor in front of the bed. Within the darkness, Sheba watched the feathers dance but made no move to participate in the play.
Sully sighed. The cat was a stone wall. What the hell was he doing? To accommodateThe Sheba Project, he’d cut his runs short in the morning and skipped his meditation. He hadn’t picked up his guitar since Sheba’s arrival and had even passed on a weightlifting session with Cameron. Hue had been texting him, asking about progress on The Ugly Duckling.
Yeah, about that…
The home project had screeched to a standstill. Kind of hard to re-tile the wall in the bathroom when you’re spending hours swinging around a feather toy like an utter idiot and trying to slow blink at a cat. According to Jackson Galaxy, a slow blink was the cat version of a friendly hello. Sheba, unsurprisingly, seemed to have zero interest in reciprocating.
The one silver lining of spending so much time onThe Sheba Projectwas that it gave him the perfect excuse to ignoreThe Girlfriend Project.
He still couldn’t get Alanna Sandoval’s face out of his mind even though she’d made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with him. What part ofYou could have blown my mother to smithereens, so get the fuck out of my housewas his brain not getting?
Sully knew he should finally fill out his profile on that dating website he’d signed up for. Maybe scrolling through profiles of pretty singles in the area would dislodge Alanna from his system.
He had to move on.
…but not yet. Because of the cat, of course.The Sheba Projectrequired his full attention.
Round and round the feathers flew.
“Sheba,” Sully said to the cat beneath the bed. “I’m trying here, I really am, but you’ve got to meet me halfway.”
Sully’s arm ached from moving the damn toy for so long.
“What else do you want me to do?” he whispered.
