“Two cappuccinos,” the barista announced, and Gretchen snagged the tray. She pushed Edie toward an empty table—the only empty table in the place—in the back.
As they sat down, Gretchen exclaimed, “Oh, look, there’s a cat-treat dispenser at the table!” She hit the tab and a little bell chimed as the treats popped out. Immediately, a fat white cat showed up, meowing. Gretchen laughed. “This greedy gus already has the treat system figured out, don’t you?” She hauled the cat into her lap and snuggled it. “Mmm, I wonder if Igor needs a friend.”
Edie wiped her face again, smiling at the sight of Gretchen holding the cat. She took one of the cups from the tray and sipped it, noticing that even the mug and saucer were covered in cats. On a large TV monitor in the back of the café, the game was displayed, running on a loop.
It was all incredible. When had Magnus managed to do all this? She was amazed. It was . . . beyond anything she’d hoped. She’d asked him to prove that he loved her.
He had. He totally had. He’d found her weak spot and pried her open. She felt totally vulnerable . . . and yet so completely, utterly happy.
Magnus loved her enough to do all this. To take her crusade to the next level for her. This place was clever and trendy and he’d managed to work his own spin to get people to come in and check things out, all with the goal of saving shelter cats.
It was simply incredible.
And he’d done this . . . for her. She was going to start weeping again in a moment.
Gretchen fed the fat white cat his treats and reached for her coffee. As she did, her phone buzzed with an incoming message. “Let me get that,” Gretchen said, and set down the cat. He looked over at Edie, and she automatically picked him up, burying her face in the soft white fur and scratching him under his chin, the way her cats liked it. She might have sobbed into his fur a little, too. Just a little.
As she looked up, Gretchen had a smug smile on her face as she put away her phone. “Want to go see the transition room, Miss Cat Behaviorist?”
Edie’s heart thumped. Did this have anything to do with the text Gretchen had just received? God, she hoped so. “Of course I do.” She was hoping that when they opened the doors, there would be a green-eyed hero waiting on the other side.
And Edie might just fling her panties at him after all.
They put down their drinks, gave the cat one last cuddle before setting him down, and Gretchen flagged down an employee and explained they were looking for the cat transition room. Gretchen whispered something Edie couldn’t hear, and the employee nodded and waved them forward. “Follow me.”
They followed the employee through a door marked Staff Only and down a hall. “We have two transition rooms,” the girl was saying. “Because cats are territorial, we try to give them familiar smells and sounds before introducing them to the others. We pipe in café sounds twenty-four-seven so the cats aren’t freaked out by the noise, and they’re prepared when they go into the main room. We encourage employees to come and spend their breaks in the transition rooms in order to acclimate the cats to people. In addition, our managers tend to work in the transition rooms, too, so again, there’s always someone around.”
“What about cats that don’t acclimate to the café surroundings?” Edie had to know.
“We have six so far that we call our ‘shy’ guys.” The girl beamed. “The employees are fostering them at their personal residences and if we can manage to get them to integrate into the café, we get a bonus. I’m keeping my little Tucker though. He takes his asthma meds like a champ, and the café pays for the prescription, so it’s no cost to me.”
Edie’s heart clenched again. She had two asthmatic cats and knew how expensive inhalers could get. “That’s wonderful.” He’d truly thought of everything to ensure the cats would find a home. She’d never felt so utterly elated. “Do you guys have a vet on staff?”
“We do,” the employee agreed, pausing in front of a door at the end of the hall. It had a plaque marked Cat Inside! Watch the Door. “All of the cats are checked out and are spayed or neutered, as well as have all shots before we allow them to go into the main café.” She knocked on the door.
“Come in,” called a deep, too-familiar voice that made Edie’s toes curl. “It’s safe.”
The employee opened the door for them, gesturing they should enter. They did, Gretchen’s arm clutching at Edie’s so tightly that she couldn’t possibly run away. The room was a simple one, the size of a small office, with a few cat trees, a box for hiding in, a litter box, and a few motivational posters on the walls. Off to one side was a desk covered in paperwork. In the center of the room sat a man on a rolling desk chair.
There he was. His back was to them, but even from this angle, her mouth started watering in anticipation of his kiss. His touch. Her Magnus. Her sweet, thoughtful, clever Magnus. His broad shoulders were covered in a waffle-weave gray shirt, and as she watched, a tabby cat nose burrowed against his neck. He chuckled, and his hand brushed the long, silky fur of what looked like a Maine Coon cat. “This one’s a snuggler,” he said to no one in particular, his focus on the cat. “One day out of her cage and she’s already desperate for my attention.”
“I know what that’s like,” Edie said softly.
As she watched, his shoulders tensed, his entire form becoming aware of her.
“You know, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Gretchen announced, releasing her death grip on Edie’s arm. “I think I’m going to go chug some coffee and pet some cats. Let me know when you’re ready to leave, Eeeds.”