The cat inched forward. She reached under the bed. It swiped at her and retreated once more. After another five minutes of sweet-talking, Jessi was ready to give up. She sat back on her heels and looked around, gaze settling on the bed. She rose and moved the food and wine dishes closer to the edge of the bed then lay across the top. The cloud-like bedding cushioned her while the bed seemed to adjust to her shape. She sank into it, unaware a bed was able to provide that level of comfort. Her mattress was as old as Ashley.
She pulled herself forward to test her reach. If the cat got near the food, she should be able to grab it.
Jessi waited. And waited. She tossed a couple kibbles under the bed and heard the cat crunch them. She tossed some closer to the edge.
"Pleeeeeeeease come out, kitty," she murmured. "It's like, five! I should be almost ready to go home. You're hungry, right? Pleeeeeeease come out!"
More crunching.
"I definitely don't want to get fired."
The thought of losing her job on the first day made her eyes water. What if that happened? What if she wasn't able to get what Jonny sent her for?
How was that kid for real, anyway?
Jessi pressed the meat of her palms to her eyes and calmed herself.
"Come on, kitty. Help your temporary mama keep her job," she said to the cat.
To her amazement, the cat's head appeared. Jessi held her breath as it went to the food dish and began eating. She almost squealed.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Her eyes flew up to the form in the doorway. In the split second before the cat ducked under the bed, Jessi was aware of the man's size and intense gaze. His muscular body took up the doorway, hands on his hips and strange red contacts glowing.
Almost like the cat's eyes, who snatched a mouthful of food and ducked under the bed again.
"Noooo!" she groaned and reached for it.
It was already gone.
"Dammit, kitty!" She climbed off the bed. "I almost had her!"
"You weren't even close," the man said. "She's playing with you."
"I'm not here to play."
Jessi looked at him again, taking in the thick form and gaze so direct and piercing, it was almost hostile. He wasn't what she expected for the owner who liked everything alphabetized and orderly, preferring structure to spontaneity.
He wore the damn necklace she was after. It dangled in the open space at his neck, visible through the unfastened top button of his loose shirt. She raised the flashlight, her attention caught by the dark stain on his white shirt.