Just as I’d suspected, Octo-Cat had curled up on my bed upstairs. He’d even pushed the door closed behind him, which is where I found Paisley waiting and whining.
“Brother, brother, let me in!”
“Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin,” my cat snarked back at her. Lovely.
“That’s it,” I said, scooping up Paisley and forcing my way into the bedroom. My bedroom.
“Why are you picking on Paisley?” I demanded, giving Octo-Cat the side eye as I scratched the quivering Chihuahua between her giant triangle ears.
“I just needed some time to myself. Okay?” he said with a yawn. “It’s no big deal.”
“I was worried someone might step on me,” Paisley announced with a shiver. “I didn’t want anyone to do that.”
“I thought you were planning to stay outside during the party so you could still take part in the race,” I reminded her gently. If I had known she’d come back inside, I would have gotten her set up safely straight away.
Paisley whimpered. “Yeah, but I got lonely all by myself out there.”
“You poor thing. Why don’t you stay here with Octo-Cat, and I’ll come get you for the race? Okay?” The race, after all, was the whole reason she’d initially opted to remain outside. Ever since Nan had added the 5k to the schedule of events, Paisley had insisted that she would compete and win.
“Oh, yes please! Thank you, Mommy!” she squealed now as I set her down on the bed beside Octo-Cat.
“What about what I want?” he asked with wide eyes and ears flat against his head.
“Stop. You love Paisley.”
“Sometimes, but you see, I’m already Paisley-ed out today, Angela.” Whenever he used my full name, I knew I was in trouble.
Paisley let out a mournful howl.
“Please,” I hissed, more angry than supplicatory. “She needs you.”
“What about what I need?” he countered, then yawned again.
Okay, that was enough. This may all be boring to him, but it was hurting Paisley’s feelings and also keeping me from helping with the event.
“Stop,’” I shouted and stamped my foot with a special kind of finality. “Stop this right now. I’m sorry that our helping other animals has inconvenienced you for a few hours, but it’s literally just a few hours.”
Octo-Cat’s mouth fell open in shock. “How dare you talk to me like—”
“Look,” I interrupted, switching from the vinegar approach to honey mid-stream. “What if I drive out to Misty Harbor tomorrow and get you one of those lobster rolls you like so much? Deal?”
The tabby sat up and wrapped his tail around himself. I had his attention now.
“One is not enough. You said it yourself, I have to endure a few hours of torture. I should be compensated accordingly.”
“So what? You want three? You can’t even finish one on your own,” I reminded him. I also didn’t have time to negotiate here. I’d already been gone too long as it was.
Octo-Cat tilted his head to one side and then the other, toying with me, no doubt. “I want one lobster roll delivered fresh for each hour that I have to endure this thing. One day at a time for as many days as it takes.”
“But that’s like a thirty-minute drive each way!” I protested.
He sighed and raised a paw, which he wagged at me. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but it seems you leave me no choice.” His claws came out with a schlink, and he flexed them in front of me. “Oh, Paisley!” he called.
“Yes, Octavius?” she yapped, coming over with a full-on butt wiggle. Once again, just happy to be included.
“You wouldn’t,” I said under my breath.
“Watch me.” Octo-Cat flexed his claws again and slowly moved the weaponized paw toward the unwitting doggie.
“Fine! One lobster roll per day,” I exploded, hating that he’d gotten the best of me by using such underhanded tactics.
“As many days as it takes,” he added, claws flexing once more.
“Yes. Fine. I agree. Now play nice up here.”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Octo-Cat said, re-sheathing his claws and then licking his paw and beginning to groom himself as if that had been his true plan all along.
“Bye, Mommy,” Paisley called after me as I made my escape.
Back on the main floor, the auction had just come to an end, and the crowd was milling about, awaiting direction.
My direction. Crud.
Mr. Gable met me midway on the grand staircase. “Everyone, listen up!” he shouted over the din. Then to me, “You’re on, Angie.”
“Hi, everyone,” I said as loudly as I could without actually shouting. “Thank you so much for being here tonight. The next portion of our evening is dinner. Seating is already set up on the right-hand side of the house.” I motioned and smiled like a flight attendant. “The left side—” I motioned the other way “—will be ready shortly. Please find a seat at your earliest convenience, and let me know if you need help or have any questions.”
I marched down the steps and planted myself by the door so I would be easy to find. Searching for Nan, I glanced toward the left side of the house where Cal and his team of volunteers were moving in tables and chairs at lightning speed.
We’d opted for cheap card tables disguised with fine linen cloths. Nan had also gussied up the rented folding chairs by creating full length covers that fit over them perfectly. A tulle bow had been tied around the crook of each chair, providing extra elegance despite the inexpensive materials.
I briefly spotted Nan, chatting to a tall man in an impeccable tux at the edge of the kitchen. She wore an enormous smile and nodded her head vigorously the entire time. I wondered if she’d just found an especially generous donor to add to this night’s success. Of course, I couldn’t tell who the man was from this angle. His back was turned to me and he wasn’t someone I knew well enough to recognize in that way.
“Please, please, take a seat. Dinner will be served shortly,” Mr. Gable called over the crowd, drawing my attention away from Nan and her mystery guest. “I’ll be coming around to collect your vouchers. You should have received them when signing up for tonight’s event via the shelter. A complimentary dinner, of course, was included as a thank-you for your donations. You’ll also find fishbowl centerpieces. They’re empty because they’re for any additional donation you may like to offer to aid the animals. For those looking to add the perfect feline companion to your life, adoptions are being held upstairs for the entire night. We have nine wonderful black cats who would love to join your family. To meet them, just head straight upstairs and look for the door with the sign.”
He gave me an encouraging thumbs up and folded his hands before him as he waited for everyone to take their seats.
Nan’s voice came over the microphone Charles had been using to lead the auction. “In just a few moments, seating on the left side of the house will be opened. If you were unable to find a spot on the right side, head on over and my granddaughter Angie will find a place for you.” As she made this announcement, she walked over to join me and Mr. Gable in the foyer.
“We’ve got things over here,” Nan said, hanging onto the mic with one hand and lacing the fingers of her other with Mr. Gable’s. “Go direct the remaining guests on the left.”
I nodded and moved with the crowd over to the emptied-out side of the house.
Oh, if only we’d waited until warmer months to host this giant gala. Things would have been much easier had we been able to use our outdoor space. Nobody wanted to be outside on a late April night, however. The 5K was our only exception.
The left side of the house was our biggest interior area. Usually it held our living room and dining area, both spacious under normal circumstances. But tonight, the tables had been packed as close together as possible. Nan hadn’t wanted to turn away a single donor if having them all meant helping the animals—and I had to applaud her for that.
Despite the chaos, I liked how many had shown up in support. What I didn’t like was that Ms. Jessica Rabbit had installed herself right next to Charles at the table in the farthest back corner and was stroking his arm as she spoke.
To his credit, he kept moving his arm out of her reach, but she kept moving in closer and…
Oh, no. You’ve messed with the wrong girl’s boyfriend this time, Missy!