Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
The reasonableness of my offer barrels through my mind like a freight train. I don’t do cats. I’m not a cat person. Heck, I’m not even a pet person. The sleek, aloof creatures have always made me uneasy for reasons I can only chalk up to a personal quirk or the fact my grandmother’s cat lived to torture me. But I wave off these nagging doubts, driven by a genuine desire to see Scarlett happy, to ensure she gets the chance to go home for Christmas.
“No,” I say, offering a smile I hope is reassuring. “Minnie’s welcome to join the trip.”
She beams at me so brightly it feels like a mini sun has erupted right here in the office, and her happiness makes the sudden spotlight on my discomfort with the feline species worth it.
“You’re sure?” Her voice is tentative but hopeful.
Fuck yes. Now that I’ve found the perfect way to spend some time with her away from work, I’m not going to let it slip through my fingers. Even if it’s only a three-hour flight. “Positive. Besides, what’s a Christmas trip without a little added adventure?” I quip, wondering what alien has suddenly taken over my thinking.
Scarlett laughs, a light, musical sound that fills my office with something incredibly rare—actual joy. “You might regret those words when Minnie makes your private jet her own private domain.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I reply, a grin stretching across my face as the absurdity of the situation settles around us.
She returns her focus to me, a soft understanding dancing across her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough. Really, this means a lot.”
“Of course,” I assure her, raising a hand to rub the back of my neck. It’s a nervous habit I’m not proud of, but oh well. “You deserve a happy Christmas.”
After Scarlett leaves my office, I can’t get rid of the unrelenting grin plastered on my face. I know I haven’t just opened my jet to a cat; I've opened a door to something more with Scarlett.
For the rest of the day, thoughts of her linger in my mind, accompanying me through meetings and engagements. It’s like I keep catching glimpses of her fiery hair and mischievous smile out of the corner of my eye, even though she's not in sight.
So, as I pack up for the day, I let my thoughts drift to the conversation we’ll have about arrangements, destinations, and Minnie’s preferences on accommodations.
Because, truth be told, I’d go to much bigger lengths than accommodating a cat just to see the joy in Scarlett’s eyes.
Chapter 3
Scarlett
Waiting on my doorstep, I juggle a roller bag, my handbag, and a rather disgruntled Minnie in her travel kennel. Minnie is not amused by today’s turn of events. She’s glaring at me with those big, judgmental kitty eyes that say, “Really, human? When did I agree to a trip?”
When Noah pulls up in front of my apartment with his sleek, black sedan, I can’t help but marvel at how effortlessly cool he looks, stepping out of the car, completely at ease. It’s unfair, I think, how someone can look so put together while I’m over here wrangling a finicky feline and wrestling with my suitcase.
“Good morning!” I call, as if he’s not already walking toward me with that smooth confidence that always makes me a little flustered.
“Good morning,” he greets with that smooth voice of his that somehow manages to be both charming and composed. He seems to notice the array of bags and my precarious grip on Minnie's carrier. “Here, let me help you with that.”
I open my mouth to politely decline but then promptly change tactics as the carrier nearly slips from my grasp. “Thanks, that’d be great.”
Noah swoops in to rescue the situation, thus freeing me from nearly dropping Minnie. As he leans down to peer into her kennel, I realize this is the moment of truth. I hold my breath, hoping for feline cooperation because, let’s face it, Minnie is basically a testy grand dame when it comes to dealing with strangers.
“Hello, Minnie,” he says softly, channeling whatever mysterious charm he has into this first encounter with my furry companion.
Minnie, her dignity affronted by the confines of her temporary prison and this new human, offers a dramatic hiss and even I’m caught off guard. It’s a classic Minnie move, making her feelings known with absolutely zero subtlety.
“Minnie!” I fuss, shooting her a look that I hope conveys a semblance of disapproval. She merely flicks her tail in disdain, settling into the corner of her crate with an air of martyrdom.
Noah chuckles, an amused sparkle in his eye. “No offense taken. I’m guessing she’s not a fan of new travel companions.”
“To say the least,” I mutter, putting on my best apologetic smile. “She’s very spoiled.” What a freaking understatement.
“Let’s see if we can win her over,” he says, surprisingly undeterred by the tumultuous introduction. “What kind of treats do cats like?”