Like Cats and Dogs by Kate McMurray (scary books to read TXT) 📗

Sadie chirped happily in response.

Once Monique was set, Lauren walked over to the bar. Lindsay stood there flirting with the bartender. Lauren managed to say hello to Lindsay and order a gin and tonic in the same breath.

Lindsay sipped a cocktail and grinned at Lauren.

“I thought you couldn’t make it,” said Lauren.

“I tried to make an excuse to be here in my professional capacity. These are great cocktails. See?”

“Great cocktails? From our rented bartender, with the middle-shelf liquor from the store up the block.”

Lindsay brought the cup to her lips and gave Lauren a thumbs-up. Then she said, “I’m not missing a lot tonight. Did you see that new streaming show, Baking Bread?”

“No. When do I have time to watch television?”

“Fair. But it’s really soothing. It’s basically just this silver fox baker who shows you how to make a different kind of bread each episode. I could watch him knead bread all day. He has amazing hands.”

Lauren laughed. “Sure.”

“Anyway, the guy from that show, Jack Brentwood, is from Brooklyn and just opened a new bakery on Court Street, so I was supposed to go check it out tonight, but I postponed.”

“Really? Why? That seems more interesting than a party for cats. Not that I don’t think a party for cats is the best thing ever, just, you know.”

“I do know, but Jack Brentwood reminds me too much of a certain pastry chef ex. I was all set to go over there and tell him what other things he could knead, but then I wondered if Brad might show up, which is silly because why would he even? Brad’s probably got his own bakery in some posh Manhattan neighborhood now. Still, I called Jack Brentwood to reschedule so I could come here tonight and get drunk with my friends.” Lindsay lifted her glass to toast Lauren.

Lauren signaled to the bartender that she could use a refill. She forgot how over-the-top Lindsay could be about her ex-boyfriend. She basically walked around with an annotated map of New York City that told her which blocks to avoid to ensure she never randomly ran into Brad. Lauren had tried to tell her a few times that, in a city of eight and a half million people, the odds of running into anyone were pretty slim.

Except on the F train. Lauren always ran into people she didn’t want to see on the F train. It was clearly cursed. She’d seen Brad on the F a couple of months before, in fact, but had hidden her face behind a book and neglected to mention it to Lindsay.

Lindsay said, “Enough about Brad. I take it from the cutesy matching T-shirts that a number of vets from the Whitman Street clinic are here. Is one of them your vet?”

“He’s not my anything, but Caleb is the tall guy awkwardly talking to Evan.”

Lindsay looked and whistled. “Well, he looks like a tasty dish. And you decided not to sleep with him again because…”

“We hate each other’s guts.”

“I’d be willing to overlook that to get him between the sheets. I won’t, of course, because of the sisterhood.” She patted Lauren’s shoulder. “But I’m just saying.”

Lauren was tempted to say something glib like, “You can have him,” but the truth was she didn’t want anyone else to have him. Maybe they weren’t destined for a great romance, but as long as they had…whatever they had, she wanted Caleb to herself.

“This is quite a crush,” said Lindsay, surveying the room.

“I hope people actually adopt cats or donate to a shelter and aren’t just here for the free booze.”

“They will. Who could resist these little guys?” Lindsay bent down to pet Patches, a marmalade-colored cat.

“You want one?”

“I already have two, thanks to you.”

Lauren sighed. “Well, anyway. I better mingle more. Thank you for coming, though.”

“Sure. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Say nice things to the guests about how great it is to have cats.”

Just then, Lauren spotted the comedy duo of Randolph and Newton in the crowd. Both had on business suits. What the hell were they doing here?

Lauren approached them. Newton held up his hands as if he were afraid to touch anything.

“Alcohol and cats,” said Newton.

“It’s a private event,” Lauren said. “The rules are different. Nice to see you gentlemen. What brings you here? Interested in adopting a cat?” There. Kill ’em with kindness, she figured.

“Ah, no,” said Randolph. “Just being friendly neighbors.”

“This is a private event, but it’s open to the public,” said Newton.

“It’s all on the up-and-up. We consulted our lawyer before putting this on, and he says it’s fine. Also, you may recall, the state of New York changed the law last year. This is all kosher as long as the animals are not allowed in the space where food is prepared. Given that everything was donated from elsewhere, there’s no issue. If you’re not comfortable eating with the cats, there are a couple of tables near the counter, away from the cat area.” Lauren kept her tone light and friendly.

“I’d really prefer that,” said Newton. He snagged a mini-quiche from a nearby tray and then left the cat area.

“He’s a bit of a germophobe,” said Randolph. “So you’re in charge of all this?”

“I’m the manager of the café, yes. But my event planner Paige did most of the work for this particular event. We have these adoption parties quarterly to make room for new cats.”

“Interesting. Very interesting business you have here. Seems a little flash in the pan, though, no?”

“We’ve been open for more than a year. Business is up lately. That seems like more than a flash. There’s a cat café in Chinatown in Manhattan, in fact, that has been around for six years.”

Lauren was curious about why this guy was here, and it made her nervous. She couldn’t help but think they were here to calculate how long it would be until they went out of business. If the Cat Café went under on its own, it saved Randolph the hassle of