It was an idle invitation, one Mitch made every time he saw her, but Paige had been meaning to say yes one of these days. As the cat café’s events manager, she’d made it a point to get to know all of the animal rescue organizations in the region, because many of them worked with the café to help cats find forever homes. Paige periodically volunteered at a no-kill shelter in Park Slope, but she hadn’t done a shift with Mitch’s group yet. She was free next Thursday—she was certainly done trying to fill her off hours by dating guys she had no future with—so maybe it was time.
“If I decided to help out next week,” Paige said, “what would happen exactly? Because I’m a little worried about a feral cat scratching my eyes out.”
Rather than laugh, which Paige had expected, Mitch nodded gravely. “These cats can be dangerous. Some are more skittish than aggressive, but some bite. All volunteers work in groups of two or three, and we recommend wearing long sleeves and pants, heavy clothing if possible. I know it’s summer, but better safe than sorry. We provide gloves and will do a workshop on how to trap the cats safely. We’re usually out there a couple of hours. Sound good?”
“Yeah, that seems reasonable.” Still a little scary. The cats at the café could get hostile if they got riled up enough, and they were all tame, domesticated cats. Paige was a little afraid of the feral ones.
“Cool. We meet in front of the Brooklyn Museum, on the Botanic Garden side. The regulars usually congregate near the subway entrance. Do you know it?”
“Yes. Sounds good. I’ll try to make it next week. I’ve been meaning to, but schedule conflicts.” Paige shrugged in a “what can you do” way.
“You should come too, Lauren,” said Mitch.
“Not next week, unfortunately. Caleb has a few days off in a row, so we’re taking a little vacation. His cousin has a place upstate. We’re gonna bring the dog and savor the peace and quiet in the woods. I’ve been looking forward to this for a month, so I will not be canceling it. Sorry, Mitch.”
“Hey, I get it. Spend quality time with your husband.” Mitch glanced at his watch. “I just wanted to drop these off. I didn’t mean to keep you from closing. I’ll get out of your hair. But I hope to see you next Thursday, Paige!”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”
***
Josh could walk to Lauren’s place from his downtown Brooklyn high rise easily enough. So the first evening that he actually made it to Brooklyn in time for dinner, he’d texted Lauren, thinking he’d get a cup of coffee and pet some cats, and she invited him to dinner.
Now he sat at a small table off the kitchen in Lauren and Caleb’s apartment, three people crammed onto a table that was really only big enough for two.
“Good to see that law firm hasn’t killed you yet,” said Lauren’s husband, Caleb, as he poured wine for everyone.
“It’s a near thing,” said Josh. “I still haven’t decorated my apartment. I miss sports. I miss reading novels and watching shitty television. I miss sex. And bless you for the home cooking, because I’ve been living off takeout, and it’s nice to eat something on a plate instead of out of a plastic container.” He surveyed his plate. A nicely seared steak was nestled next to a scoop of rice pilaf and a garlicky vegetable medley. “I didn’t know you could cook like this, Lauren.”
“Caleb helped. And by helped, I mean he did most of it.”
“One of our wedding gifts was a certificate for some cooking classes with a chef one of Lauren’s friends knows,” said Caleb. “Lauren was busy, so I took the classes.”
“Well, that explains a lot.” Josh cut off a piece of steak. It melted on his tongue. “Man, that’s good. Money well spent on those classes.”
Caleb chuckled. “Lauren cooked the rice.”
“I boiled the water,” Lauren said.
“You did it very well, honey,” said Caleb, reaching over to rub her arm.
“Better than Mom,” said Josh.
Lauren rolled her eyes. “That’s not saying much.” To Caleb, she added, “You’re still new to the family. Mom is not the best cook.”
“The chicken she made the last time we visited was good,” said Caleb.
“She’s not here,” said Josh. “You don’t have to be nice.”
“Also, that totally came from a store,” said Lauren.
“Ah, that checks out.” Josh ate a few more bites and said, “Well, anyway. How’s business?”
“Good. Diane, the café’s owner, is still resisting my plan to hire our own pastry chef, and there’s some nonsense with the health department we still have to negotiate to do that, but I think if I find the right person, she’ll have to hire them.”
“Fond as I am of cat hair in my pastries, that seems like something you should be careful about,” said Josh.
“Yeah, yeah. I am very careful.”
“What’s going on with the health department?”
Lauren sighed. “New York has a bunch of rules about animals and food service. This slimy real estate developer guy who has been buying up buildings in the neighborhood tried to shut us down last year by ratting us out to the health department. We were in compliance, so nothing happened.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to lawyer me?”
“Hey, I was just curious. Don’t you bring in all your food from outside vendors? Would hiring a pastry chef put you out of compliance?”
“No. Not if we rearrange some things in the cat café. There’s a way to do it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We have our own lawyer, by the way.”
“Okay, okay.”
An alarm went off on Lauren’s phone. “Hang on, I gotta call Paige.”
“Paige?” Josh asked.
As Lauren held the phone to her ear, Caleb explained, “Lauren’s friend.
