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Lunch service is busy,thank God, because I need something to take my mind off Livvy and that fact that she’s only a few feet away on the other side of the kitchen wall, toiling away in her world of pets and their rich owners. Knowing she’s so close makes my balls ache, and it’s all I can do not to run over there, peek in the window, and run back to the restaurant like a dorky little kid.
She fell asleep last night almost the moment her head hit my pillow, so I wrapped my arms around her and tried to follow suit. It took a while, but I eventually succeeded. For the longest time before I did, I lay awake, smelling her hair, so fresh and clean and not overly perfumed.
God, I sound pussy-whipped.
First chance I get, when the last lunch guest leaves, I run next door.
I need, um, cat food.
Yeah right. Cat food.
I picture the dozens of untouched cans already stored in my pantry and wince. But that doesn’t stop me buying more. Hell, they don’t go bad. Do they?
“Hi,” Livvy says, her eyes lighting up as she leans onto the counter toward me.
Her assistant is nowhere to be found, thank goodness.
If Livvy’s embarrassed or bashful about what happened the night before, it’s not at all evident. With her hair and makeup all cleaned up, you’d never guess this woman gave me a blowjob last night in front of two of my friends.
It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for, right?
“Hey,” I say, looking around the shop, avoiding her gaze while pretending to look for something very important.
For a cat.
Fucking stupid.
Harry, Livvy’s in-house mascot, looks up lazily at our conversation, not at all happy at having been disturbed, and with a grunt, goes back to sleep.
“So, Livvy, I need some more of that cat food. For my mom’s cat. The one I’m watching. While my mother is out of town.”
Sorry, Cheddar. Don’t mean to dis you.
Livvy raises an eyebrow. “Does your mom have a zoo or something? How many cats does the woman own?”
She pulls out a shopping basket and walks to the wall, where Cheddar’s preferred food is on display and starts piling it in.
“Um, just Cheddar. He eats a lot.” I pick up an absurdly overpriced cat treat and a little cat raincoat that says ‘Cucci,’ which my cat would never wear because, first, he never steps foot outside my apartment and, two, he has way too much pride to dress like a human. I’m buying it anyway.
Livvy eyes the items in the shopping basket and I’m pretty sure she knows the story of the cat belonging to my mother is a bunch of bull.
My mom’sactualcat? Little thing has been in feline heaven for years.
I watch as Livvy rings up my order. “I’m giving you my friends and family ten percent off.”
I raise my hands. “No, no. I didn’t come over here hoping for a discount.”
She looks at me, her mouth crooked into a smirking half smile. “Then why did you come?”
Okay. Fine. She can see through my cat purchases.
I’m not a sentimental guy. It’s well known that I’m a pessimistic pain in the ass. But I have to admit, Livvy has grown on me. Her smart-assed jabs put me right in my place, something most women would never dare to do.
I’m torn between pulling her into my arms and just maintaining our snarky friendship.
My little head gets the better of me. I look around the shop to make sure Livvy’s weird assistant isn’t around, and take a step closer in order to drop my bomb.
“Liv, are you as attracted to me as I am to you? Because if you are, that would be great. Or terrible. Who knows.”
