Caleb was manning the front desk when Olivia came in one evening a week later. She was taking the night shift that day, but had been running late, and now she was out of breath.
“Ugh, sorry,” she said. “I had an appointment in Manhattan and the subways are just…well. I got stuck at Broadway–Lafayette for, like, twenty minutes trying to transfer, and I swear, if I read one more story about some city program the mayor wants to spend money on that is not the subway, I am going to march down to City Hall myself and tell him my thoughts on that.”
Caleb laughed. “I’m sorry it took you so long to get here, but it’s fine. I didn’t have anything else going on tonight.”
But Olivia was already pulling her cell phone out of her bag. She murmured, “Great, voicemail,” and then listened to the message. “Oh, Lauren wanted to know if we have any more cardboard cat carriers we can spare. We’ve got a whole case of them in the back. Could you drop a few off to her on your way out? I’ll take over now.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“You’re not still avoiding her, are you? I know you guys have argued in the past. I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.”
“It’s fine, really. We’re not going to be best friends or anything, but I think we reached some kind of truce when she brought over that box of kittens.”
“Oh. Good. I mean, since we do so much work with the Cat Café.” Olivia shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on the hook behind the desk. “How’s that dog of yours, by the way?”
“He’s great. Friendly and well-behaved. I didn’t think I wanted a dog in my new apartment, but he’s the best roommate I’ve ever had.”
Olivia chuckled. “He’s a good dog, in other words.”
“Probably exactly what I needed right now.”
“Pets have a way of doing that. I’ve got a cat at home that just showed up on my fire escape one night. I live in a huge building with sixteen other units, but this little cat chose my fire escape, like he knew I’d be a good cat mama, and then one time I opened the window and he moved right in.”
Caleb nodded. In his experience, pets often chose their owners rather than the other way around.
“Anyway, what I wanted to say,” said Olivia, “is that if you wanted to bring that dog here during the day instead of leaving him at home alone, that’s fine. He was very good with the other animals those few days he was here, so I feel pretty confident we can leave him up here by the desk most of the time, unless you think he’ll bolt.”
“Nah, I doubt it. He hasn’t tried to bolt from me yet. He’s very sweet. Just a big, friendly dog.”
“Excellent. Totally your call, but I’ve always run a bring-your-pet-to-work style office. It just so happens that most of the other vets have pets that don’t leave their homes right now, although Doug has a German shepherd he brings by sometimes.”
“Thanks. I hired a dogwalker to take care of Hank a few times a day but having him with me here on overnights would be a help. I appreciate it.”
Olivia smiled as Caleb got up and gathered up his things. “No problem. I endeavor to make this a pleasant place to work.”
Caleb smiled as he grabbed his jacket. He really did appreciate Olivia. “Well, I’ll just grab those carriers from the back.”
Olivia had a recurring order of collapsible cardboard cat carriers for when they adopted out cats and small dogs, so there were plenty in the back room. Groups of five were held together with plastic ties. Caleb grabbed a bundle, swung by the office to grab his bag, and then said good night to Olivia.
He felt pretty good about popping in next door. Maybe this could be part of his new lease on life. He could make friends with the café staff and the other vets. He’d accepted an invitation to a cookout at Dr. Gardner’s place that weekend, where there’d be spouses and friends of the other vets at the clinic, so that would be good. He didn’t generally love parties, but this was a low-key thing with some people he already knew, and he did like the other vets at the clinic. It was kind of nice to work with people he wasn’t romantically attached to.
The Cat Café was closed, so he hit the buzzer. Lauren’s voice rang through the intercom, “Who is it?”
“It’s Caleb. I’ve got some cat carriers from the clinic.”
The door buzzed and Caleb pushed inside. The café area was empty, so he walked back through the second door.
When Caleb walked into the cat area, Lauren’s back was to him. It sounded like she was singing the Sia song, “Chandelier,” but there was something in there about cats and she name checked several of the café’s feline residents. “I want to meow with Sadie the cat…”
“I don’t think those are the lyrics,” he said.
She started and turned around. “Uh… I sometimes change the lyrics to pop songs to be about the cats.”
Caleb couldn’t decide if that was cute or crazy. Some of both, he decided.
Lauren took the cat carriers from him. “Thanks for these. We wanted to have some on-hand for the adoption event we’re hosting next week and realized we were a few short.”
“You’re welcome. Is it just you here right now?”
“Yeah, Monique and Paige just left about ten minutes ago. We closed at six.”
Caleb looked at his watch. It was almost seven, much later than he thought it was. Olivia had been quite late. “Do you just let the cats hang out here all night?”
“For the most part. There are a couple that need to be separated, so we put them in kennels in the back overnight. I’ve got a scrappy little street tabby we named Tyler Durden who likes to pick fights with the other cats when no one is around. It took me a whole month to figure out why there were little tufts of fur all over when I came in some mornings. But he’s good with people. I think he’ll be fine in a home with no other cats.”
“Okay.” Caleb was still a bit baffled by all this, but he liked that at least the secret mission of the café was to find more permanent homes for these cats. It was like a shelter with a coffee shop. Still a little strange, but at least the cats were well taken care of, from what he could tell. And now he felt awkward, so he said, “Well, I’m just gonna…”
“No, stay a minute. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“Okay, but nothing fancy. Plain old regular coffee is fine.”
“And your usual is coffee with cream, no sugar.”
“How did you remember that?”
Lauren grinned and tapped her temple. “I’m very good at my job.”
That grin was incredibly sexy, like Lauren knew all the secrets in the world and was willing to share, for a price. A sexy price, hopefully. Caleb couldn’t help but smile back.
“Have a seat near the counter and I’ll be right with you. I’m just gonna make sure these guys are all tucked in.”
Caleb walked back to the café area toward the counter and sat at a table nearby. He reasoned he could probably figure out how to work the giant coffee maker—add water and coffee grounds, how hard could it be?—but he didn’t want to muck up any existing system. He pulled out his phone to check his email, and Sadie walked up. She chirped and rubbed against his leg. He relented and pet her.
“Do I meet with your approval?” he asked the cat.
She started to purr loudly, so Caleb took that as a yes.
Lauren appeared at the door. “Hey, Sadie, get in here. You don’t belong out here at night.”
Sadie sat defiantly at Caleb’s feet.
Lauren rolled her eyes and slapped her thigh. “Come on, cat. You can’t stay out here all night. Go hang out with the other cats.”
Sadie stared at her for a long moment but stood and sauntered over to the door. Lauren grabbed her and carried her the rest of the way, then locked the door.
“Sorry,” Lauren said. “Sadie’s special. She’s a permanent cat here because I haven’t been willing to part with her. We call her the office manager because she bosses everyone around. She gets free rein during the day, but she would for sure get into stuff around the counter without supervision, and the last thing I need are complaints about cat hair in people’s morning coffee.”
“Doesn’t that happen anyway?”
“Sure, in the back room.” Lauren hooked her thumb back toward the cat room, then walked over to the counter. She got the coffee maker going. “When people are here, she mostly stays away from the counter, but I don’t need dusty footprints on the counter or anything like that. Plus she has lots of places to play and nap in the other room. I think she just generally prefers people to cats.”
“How very like a cat.”
Lauren laughed. She reached into a little refrigerator behind the counter, and Caleb took a moment to appreciate her ass. When she stood back up, she had a couple of croissants in her hand. “Aha. Monique sometimes leaves the day-old stuff in the fridge for me. These croissants are really good. I get them from this little hole-in-the-wall French bakery in Prospect Heights. They are…” She made a chef kiss.
“Lovely.”
“I mean, they were delivered fourteen hours ago and have been in the fridge for a bit, so they aren’t at peak freshness, but they can’t be sold now and are still pretty dang good.” She sighed. “When we first opened, we were giving the leftover pastries to a homeless shelter close to the river, but ever since the Star Café closed and everyone is coming here instead, the morning commuters have been cleaning us out. These two croissants represent all that is left after the plunder this morning.”
“I’m honored you’re willing to share with me then.”
Lauren poured two cups of coffee and put the croissants on a plate, and somehow managed to get all of that to the table without spilling anything. She probably had some table-waiting experience in her past. She sat across from him and dug into one of the croissants.
“How are the kittens?” she asked.
“Really great. I checked on them when I grabbed the carriers. They’re all pretty lively now. Rachel gave them names based on their physical traits.”
“I know. I dropped in to check on them yesterday.”
Of course she had. Lauren was just the sort of busybody who wouldn’t take anyone’s word that the kittens were okay.
Caleb sighed. His whole resolution to make friends and try to find a community here wasn’t going to get anywhere if he let everyone annoy him.
“Anyway,” said Lauren, “those kittens will be too young for the adoption event we’re hosting here next week, but I can definitely let people know there will be kittens up for grabs in a few weeks. We can make flyers or something. People love kittens.”
“I usually try to talk people out of adopting kittens.”
“Really? Do you prefer puppies?”
He sighed. “It’s not that. Kittens and puppies are just a lot of work. They’re energetic, they eat a lot, they get into places you don’t want them to go. Not to mention, as you must know very well, it’s harder for adult animals to get adopted because people love kittens and puppies, but grown cats and dogs make perfectly good pets if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Said like a man who likes a big, slobbery dog.”
“Well.”
“What kind of dog is Hank?”
“Yellow Lab and…something else. Definitely not a purebred. I can’t tell what the something else is, though. He’s on the big side for a Lab and has a shaggier face than any Lab I’ve ever seen, and he has some random patches of darker fur, but is otherwise basically a yellow Lab. He’s a good dog, though. He came housebroken and mostly trained.”
“But someone left him at the clinic?”
“Yeah. Could be anything. The previous owners moved or died or who knows? My gain, I guess. It’s nice to have a dog at home again. My ex took ours in the divorce.”
“That bitch,” Lauren said with a bit of a smile.
“Yeah. That was probably our most vicious fight.”
“Over the dog?”
“I really liked that dog.”
Lauren nodded. “Sure. I’d be pretty upset if an ex wound up with one of my cats. Mostly, though, I just end up with other people’s cats. And you’re right, it’s harder to adopt out older cats, but we try here. The point is to lure people into adopting by letting them spend time with the cats first.”
“Does that work? Do people fall in love with the cats and want to take them home?”
“Yep. A few times a month. We let it be known that all the cats here, except for Sadie, are looking for forever homes. I figure if this place ever closes, I’d just take her home. Molly can cope with a new roommate.”
Caleb sipped his coffee. “This is some place you’ve got.”
He looked her over. She looked good today. Her long brown hair was up in a messy bun, her long bangs loose over her forehead. She had on a soft-looking pink sweater and dark jeans tucked into stylish brown boots. Her clothes hugged her body in an appealing way, and Caleb enjoyed a moment of remembering what she looked like under her clothes.
“Maybe we should talk about what happened,” Lauren said.
Caleb’s knee-jerk response was, Do we have to? But he said, “That is the elephant in the room, I guess.”
She sat across from him. “I’m not trying to make it a thing, but it just feels weird not to acknowledge it.”
“No, I get it. I’m acknowledging it. We slept together. It was good. I’m not opposed to doing it again.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Well, there’s a ringing endorsement.”
“What?”
“‘It was good. I’m not opposed to doing it again.’” She dropped her voice in imitation of him, and the way she said it did make it sound quite lackluster.
Of course, it was anything but. Caleb was still thinking about Lauren in bed all these days later.
“Well,” he said. “We know where things stand. We had an amazing…morning together, but neither of us can do a relationship right now. So where does that leave us?”
***
Lauren stared at Caleb. His facial expression made him look like he was fighting with himself about something. This guy clearly had some baggage Lauren would do well not to look into. That was fine, she could work with that. Because she wanted him again. In, like, a primal, monkey sex way, not as a potential romantic partner.
“Crazy idea,” she said. “We could be friends.”
“Friends.”
“Friends who have sex sometimes?”
He laughed. He really was so very cute when he smiled. He should do more of that and less scowling.
“Seems reasonable,” he said. He sipped his coffee. “This is good. Very strong.”
“A little too strong if you ask me.” She sipped her own coffee, and it was bold and bitter. Lauren liked a strong cup of coffee, but not this much so late in the day.
“Hmm,” Caleb said, clearly enjoying the punch in his cup. “I’d try to talk my way back into your apartment, but I really do need to get home before the dog tears apart my living room. He’s been gnawing on the rug when he gets anxious. I’m going to start bringing him to work with me, because I think he gets lonely.”
“Where’s home?”
“Brooklyn Heights. I’m renting a one-bedroom not far from Borough Hall. I usually walk here in the morning, and it’s a nice walk. I’ll probably walk home now, in fact.”
Lauren nodded. That was a swanky zip code. Recently divorced veterinarians apparently did all right for themselves. Lauren silently thanked the charity of eccentric older ladies with money to burn for her apartment.
Lauren recognized belatedly that there was an invitation in Caleb’s voice; he was asking her to walk home with him. Did she want to do that? Something about having to actually go somewhere gave the moment more importance.
“Well,” said Caleb. “Maybe I should go.”
“Finish your coffee, at least.”
He smiled.
They sat in companionable silence for a minute. Searching for something to talk about, Lauren said, “So, Boston, right? That’s where you lived before you moved here?”
“Yeah, my ex and I had a clinic in Back Bay. Do you know Boston at all?”
“I went there once to visit a friend from college. Her husband has a very park-the-car-in-Harvard-Yard accent.” She affected the best Boston accent she could.
Caleb chuckled. “As a New Englander, I should be offended by that, but we had some clients who spoke like they just walked off the set of The Departed.”
“You don’t have an accent.”
“Believe me, I put some work into that. It comes back when I’m home. But if you’re ever in Portland, I can tell you all the best places to get a lobster roll.”
He’d turned his accent on—“lobstah roll”—which made Lauren laugh. “Do you go up there much?”
“Not as much as I’d like. My ex got the car in the divorce, too, in that she literally drove off in it when she left town.”
“So she got the car and the dog. What did you get in the divorce?”
He sighed and looked away, probably not super willing to talk about it. “I got a slightly larger percent of the clinic sale, basically. Her lawyer was a real shark, though.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“It’s all right.” Caleb rubbed his forehead.
Lauren knew better than to push him into talking about it, so she said, “What other Boston movies are there? Good Will Hunting?”
Caleb offered her an indulgent smile, like he knew what she was doing. “I remember really liking that movie, but I haven’t seen it in years. I had a buddy in college who went to the same high school as Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, although a few years later obviously, and he was really proud of that fact.”
“Well, I went to the same high school as Guy Fieri, so take that.”
“Who’s Guy Fieri?”
“He’s that Food Network guy with the bleached hair and the goatee who wants to take you to Flavortown.”
Caleb laughed. “Oh, sure, that guy. Where are you from again?”
“Columbus.”
“Right, okay. Well, my high school produced no one very famous. A second-tier NFL linebacker, a soap actress, the drummer for a punk band that had one hit in 1982, but otherwise no one of note.”
“Except you!”
“I’m hardly famous.”
“No, but you are successful.” Lauren grinned. “I went to my ten-year reunion last year, and my main goal was to show how cool and successful I am out here in New York City. I had just gotten hired at the Cat Café, so I was all, ‘I manage a business and I live in Brooklyn, how cool am I?’”
“How did that go over?”
“My former classmates were way impressed with the fact that I lived in New York City and kept telling me that my life must have been very glamorous or very dangerous. Although I think most people were like, ‘Wait, who are you again?’”
Caleb nodded. “I didn’t go to my ten-year reunion. And my graduating class only had sixty students, so I definitely knew everyone.”
“Small high school.”
“Small town.” Caleb looked around the room. “So your classmates were not impressed by your glamorous life as a cat café manager?”
“Well. Some were.” Lauren watched Caleb look around, trying to interpret the look on his face. “You don’t take this very seriously, do you?” she asked.
“What, the Cat Café? Whatever you’re doing seems to be working. This place is always busy when I walk by.”
“You’re a vet. You know people find petting animals soothing. The cats here are all pretty docile and friendly. After all, we send the hard-luck cases to you.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Olivia and I had to neuter a couple of feral cats yesterday. One of them was real nasty when he came out of anesthesia. I was worried he’d scratch my eyes out.”
“Yeah, the ferals can be mean. I assume Mitch will bring those back to the colony behind the Brooklyn Museum.”
“So that’s an official colony, huh?”
“Yeah. They mostly stay away during the day, but they hang out in the parking lot at night. The museum thinks they are kind of a menace, but it’s really the safest way to control the feral population in Brooklyn. They can’t be in homes, and we can’t just euthanize them, at least I wouldn’t be able to. So Mitch—he’s the guy who brought me the kittens—he runs an organization that traps and tags the cats. They spay or neuter any they find that are untagged then release them back to the colony. And still, new cats sneak in all the time.”
“Are feral cats a problem in Brooklyn?”
“They are. Monique lives in Prospect Lefferts Gardens, and she says there are feral cats all over, and they are real bold. They go through her trash at night, like raccoons.” Lauren sighed. She assumed Brooklyn’s feral cat population included strays, cats that escaped, or cats that were abandoned by their owners. There were several no-kill shelters in Brooklyn, and there were veterinary clinics and places like the Cat Café that would take in house cats if people couldn’t care for them anymore. Those cats could have better lives in new homes rather than being turned out on the street. It broke Lauren’s heart to think about.
“Were you this passionate about cats before you worked here?” Caleb asked.
Lauren tried not to hear the mild disdain in his tone. “Sure, I’ve always been a cat person. I’ve gotten more involved in the pet communities here since coming to manage this place, though. I know people at all the shelters, I try to attend meetings of this pet owners group in Park Slope, and I’ve met my share of cat people. And I’ve learned a ton about feline behavior since I’ve worked here.” She smiled. It was a lot of work and it could be stressful, but this was a dream job in a way. Not the sort of thing she ever saw herself doing, but running a business that made people happy was something she enjoyed daily.
“You think it’s silly,” she said.
“Did I say that? If it makes people happy, who cares what I think?”
Lauren tried and failed to read his tone. “You’re not…the warmest person.”
He rolled his eyes, which got Lauren’s hackles up. He said, “You’re hardly the first to say so.”
“I don’t mean to offend you. I’m just making an observation.”
“I’ve gotten used to putting some professional distance between me and my patients.”
“Am I one of your patients?”
He frowned. “No.”
“I’m not asking you to be anyone but yourself, but this professional distance thing you have can be… I don’t know how to describe it. I just wish you could figure out how to turn it off. See the world a little differently.”
“Oh, here we go.”
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. I don’t know if this is, like, a divorce thing or if you’ve always been like this, but if you’re really this jaded, why even bother? Do you not care about your patients?”
“Of course I care about my patients!” Caleb’s tone was sharp. “I love animals. That’s why I got into veterinary medicine to begin with.” He rubbed his forehead. “I even like cats sometimes. Do I want one as a pet? No, not especially. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a good doctor.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t!”
“You kind of implied it.”
Lauren groaned. “Look, cards on the table? I find it frustrating that you maintain this distance, or whatever it is. I get that you don’t want any romance, I probably wouldn’t either if I’d just gotten divorced, but you could try to not be a jackass all the time.”
“Who’s being a jackass? I was trying to make conversation. Then you started down this road, talking about what a cold bastard I am. That’s not a news flash, by the way. And cards on the table? Yeah, I think this place is a little silly. I appreciate the work you do for pet adoptions, but if I wanted cat hair in my coffee, I’d drink the stuff Rachel makes at the clinic every morning.”
Lauren let out a frustrated grunt. “I keep forgetting we can’t stand each other. Us getting along for a few minutes there distracted me.”
“Here’s your reminder, I guess.”
“Why did I ever sleep with you?”
“Interesting question. Neither of us was in our right minds, I guess.”
“Shit.” Lauren rubbed her forehead. She still didn’t regret sleeping with him as such, because it had been good, but this conversation was a good reminder of how incompatible they were. “If that’s how you feel…”
He grunted. “I’m not trying to be a dick. I guess we just rub each other the wrong way…when we’re not rubbing each other the right way.”
Lauren laughed despite herself. “That was bad.”
“I know. It just sort of popped into my head. But otherwise, I don’t know what to tell you. You don’t care for my personality. It’s not like I can easily change it. You knew what you were getting into when you slept with me.”
“Yeah, I did. Maybe you should just go home, Caleb.”
“Fine.”
Without any further word, he grabbed his bag and left the café.