At the Heart of It Page 9

  “Kate?”

  She turned to see Amy snapping a photo of the giraffe. “Would you mind standing next to it to give it a sense of scale? That way we can give the props team an idea of how big it is.”

  “And Viv,” Kate pointed out. “If this thing’s going in her house, she’ll probably want to have some say in it.”

  “True. Though the contract does specify the team will have first say over décor choices and props.”

  Kate sidled up to the giraffe and refrained from commenting. The likelihood of the show happening at all still seemed precarious, so there was no point reminding Amy that they needed to choose their battles when it came to details like giraffe sculptures and mood lighting.

  “There,” Amy said as she clicked off a photo. “Should we go look at area rugs next, or did you want to scope out things for the boudoir scene we talked about for the pilot?”

  “I think—” She stopped midsentence as her phone began to buzz. She slipped it out of her purse and felt her arms start to tingle as Jonah’s name popped up on the screen. She’d programmed it in after Viv had given her the number, wanting to be prepared in case he did call. “Sorry, I need to take this,” she said, stepping away from the giraffe as she tapped the phone screen to answer.

  “Hello, this is Kate Geary,” she said in her best professional voice.

  “Kate Geary,” he repeated, his voice smooth and warm the way it had sounded over dinner in Ashland that night. It was so different from how he’d sounded at Viv’s house earlier that day or when she’d chased him down the boardwalk during his shirtless dog-walking exercise. “This is Jonah Porter.”

  “Hello, Jonah.”

  “Tell me something, Kate Geary,” he said.

  “What would you like to know, Jonah Porter?”

  Kate wasn’t sure if the name or the flirtatious note in her voice made Amy look up. The assistant producer lifted one eyebrow and turned to look at a copper shelf on the wall.

  Jonah laughed on the other end of the line and Kate had another flash of memory to their night in Ashland. The way he’d laughed with his whole body, nearly knocking himself off the front porch of the B&B when she’d declared herself unavailable for a one-night stand.

  “Do you have my number programmed into your phone already or do you always answer the phone that stiffly?” he asked.

  She tried to think of a reason to be coy or pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about, but she couldn’t see a point to it.

  “Did your military super-spy-catching skills tell you that, or are you hiding behind a giant giraffe watching me?”

  He laughed again. “I’m afraid to ask where you are that you’re lurking near a giant giraffe.”

  “I’m at a consignment shop at the moment. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

  He didn’t answer right away, and Kate glanced at Amy to see if she was following along. She was studying a mirror in the shape of a vagina, but Kate was pretty sure she was listening.

  “I’m not saying yes,” he said. “To the TV thing, I mean.”

  “Okay.”

  “I need to put that out there up front. But I’m rescinding my ‘fuck no’ and replacing it with an ‘I’d like to hear a little more about it.’ Is that still an option?”

  Kate nodded, which was ridiculous. He couldn’t see her. But she was almost afraid to speak, not wanting to scare him away.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’d be happy to tell you anything. What would you like to know?”

  “Not on the phone,” he said, sending another ripple of excitement through her.

  Kate gripped the phone a little tighter. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’d prefer to meet in person.”

  She glanced toward Amy again, this time catching sight of her own face in the vagina mirror. Holy hell, that wasn’t the look of someone having a business call. That was something else entirely. She forced her features into a neutral expression and hoped Amy hadn’t noticed.

  Kate straightened up and looked away from the mirror. “I’m sure that could be arranged,” she said. “My assistant producer and I would be happy to meet with you to go over—”

  “No,” he said. “Just you. Sorry, I’m sure she’s a lovely woman. But I want to keep this casual. And I want fewer people involved.”

  “Any reason?”

  She expected him not to answer, or to make up some bullshit story. His answer surprised her. “When I got railroaded into doing the Average Joe thing for the book, it was in a big committee meeting. Everyone started throwing out numbers and statistics and research and Viv was pleading and—I guess I just caved.”

  “I appreciate your candor. I can’t promise I won’t throw out statistics and research, but I can promise I won’t plead.”

  Jonah laughed. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “If you make a crack about wanting to see me on my knees, I’m hanging up right now.”

  He burst out laughing, and she could picture his exact expression in her mind. The image made her smile again.

  “No blow-job jokes, no one-night stands, no long-distance relationships,” he said. “I know what’s on your no-fly list now. What do you like to eat? Besides Thai food?”

  “I’m not picky,” she said. “Let’s go someplace quiet so we can talk.”

  “Oh, I already have the place picked out. Just wondering what sort of takeout food to order.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’re coming to my bookstore. How’s eight tomorrow evening?”

  “I can do that,” she said. “I’m eager to see where you work.”

  “I’ll text you the address. See you then.”

  Kate clicked off and slid the phone into her purse, careful to wipe any trace of smile off her face. She looked up to see Amy studying her.

  “Aren’t you at least going to pretend you weren’t eavesdropping?” Kate asked.

  Amy shook her head and grinned. “Do you want me to?”

  “Not really.”

  “Do you want a tiny bit of advice?”

  “Not really.” Kate smiled and shook her head. “I’m kidding, it’s fine. Lay it on me.”

  Amy bit her lip. “Be careful with Jonah.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I saw the way you looked at each other at Viv’s place. It was probably shock, I get it.”

  “Shock is an understatement,” Kate said. “I swear I had no idea—”

  “I know,” Amy said. “That was pretty obvious. So was the fact that there’s some pretty intense chemistry between you.”

  “No way,” Kate said. “I mean, yeah, the guy is hot. And yeah, I’ll admit the first time we met in Ashland, I was sort of attracted to him.”

  “And now?”

  Kate shook her head. “Please. He’s the ex-husband of my freakin’ idol.”

  “Hero worship doesn’t preclude you from wanting to knock boots with her ex-husband.”

  “It’s not like that. This program has the potential to skyrocket our careers to the next level. The show has the power to change a lot of lives. Any passion you’re picking up on is all about that.”

  “That sounded really good.” Amy smiled. “Almost like you believed it.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Hey, your secret’s safe with me. I don’t care if you really did sleep with him or—”

  “I didn’t,” Kate interrupted. “I swear.”

  “Okay,” Amy said. “I believe you. But I also believe something else might’ve happened. Just be careful, okay? We don’t want anything to get in the way of the show.”

  “Nothing’s more important to me than the show,” Kate said. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’ll be careful.”

  Amy grinned and grabbed her arm. “Good. Now let’s go look at dining room tables sturdy enough to fuck on,” she said. “I’m thinking ahead to episode five.”

  Kate laughed and let Amy tow her across t
he store, ordering herself to push Jonah out of her brain.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Kate appeared on the doorstep of Cornucopia Books precisely at eight just as a woman with a nose ring and a bright-pink pixie cut was flipping the door sign from Open to Closed.

  Kate’s surprise must have registered, because the woman smiled and pushed the door open. “Are you Kate?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Come on in. I’m Beth. The boss man’s in the Cat Café. He’s elbow deep in some project in the kitchen, so he asked me to let you in.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” Kate ran her hands down the front of her navy striped T-shirt dress and wondered if she should have dressed down more. Maybe skipped the blazer or gone for casual-casual instead of business-casual.

  “Come on,” Beth said. “It’s right this way.”

  The young woman led her across rustic wood floors through a spacious lobby filled with racks of postcards and reading glasses and bright mugs printed with phrases like Never judge a book by its movie, and My book smells better than your tablet.

  They continued past a barista station with a gleaming espresso machine and tap handles boasting the names of breweries Kate had never heard of. Then again, she wasn’t a beer drinker, though it was clear from the chalkboard menu listing a dozen kinds of beer that it was a popular choice here.

  At a red door marked Cat Café Beth halted and turned to Kate. “You can wash up at that sink right there and go on in. He’s either in the kitchen or in the lounge area already.”

  “Thank you.” Kate pushed up the sleeves of her jacket and turned on the taps, wondering if she looked like someone who might have cat diseases.

  “It’s because I’m letting you into the food-prep area,” Beth said, reading Kate’s mind. “The boss is really strict about OSHA stuff. Things you wouldn’t even think about. Like anyone who’s had litterbox duty that day isn’t allowed in the kitchen during the same shift.”

  “Oh. That does seem like a smart policy.”

  “Yeah.” Beth smiled. “You have a cat?”

  “No. I like cats, though. I guess I just travel too much for work.”

  “We get a lot of folks like that here.” Beth whipped a rag out of her back pocket and started dusting a waist-high steel sculpture of a cat. “Can’t have a cat of their own, so they come here to get their feline fix. It’s good for the animals, too. Helps them get comfortable around people so they’re more adoptable.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  Beth smiled. “The boss man’s full of ’em.”

  The pride in the young woman’s voice was evident, and Kate lathered her hands and stole a glance at her. Beth straightened a black-and-white cat photo on the wall as Kate pumped a little more soap from the dispenser shaped like a cat.

  “Have you worked here long?” Kate asked.

  “Since the day he opened. It’s a great place. Indie bookstores are dying off by the dozen, but this place is doing okay. Jonah’s a smart businessman.”

  “So I’d gathered,” Kate said, remembering what he’d said in Alki Park. How he’d chosen to cast aside his cerebral self to fill the Average Joe persona. How much would it suck to think you could only be one or the other? A military counterintelligence expert and bookstore owner, or a straight-talking, blue-collar handyman known for writing hilariously brash sidebars in a self-help book?

  One or the other, but not both.

  Then again, hadn’t Kate faced the same conundrum? More than once, really. An art-minded actress or a family-focused female with a stable career. A documentary filmmaker or a money-making reality TV producer.

  What a dumb choice to have to make. To have to decide at all.

  “I should get back to closing out the till,” Beth said. “Could you let him know the restrooms are clean and we’re getting low on cold brew?”

  “Clean restrooms, almost out of cold brew,” Kate repeated. “Got it.”

  “Thanks! Have a good night.”

  Beth turned and vanished back through the lobby, making Kate grateful for a few moments alone to compose her thoughts as she dried her hands on a paper towel. She dropped it into a black metal wastebasket engraved with silhouettes of cats whose tails were intertwined. Then she took a deep breath and pushed open the door marked Cat Café.

  She heard the singing before she saw him. The voice was coming from the other side of a huge stainless-steel oven, and sounded vaguely like Jonah. The tune sounded like Meghan Trainor’s “All About That Bass,” but the lyrics were something else entirely.

  “I love to stuff my face, stuff my face, more kibble—”

  “Jonah?”

  The singing stopped, and Jonah poked his head around the oven. Kate expected him to look embarrassed about being caught in an off-key serenade, but he just grinned at her.

  “Hey,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”

  Kate smiled back and stepped around the oven to join him at the bright-red enameled counter. He was stirring something in an industrial-sized stainless steel pot, and steam billowed around him like marshmallow fluff.

  “Beth said to tell you the restrooms are clean and you’re almost out of cold brew,” Kate reported. She watched as Jonah continued stirring the pot. “Don’t let me stop the concert. By all means, keep singing.”

  He laughed and flipped off the gas burner. “I hadn’t gotten very far with the lyrics yet,” he said. “This one’s in honor of Porky.”

  “Porky?”

  “Yeah, he’s one of the cats we’ve had here the longest. Everyone thinks since he’s a little overweight, he’s not as desperate for a home as the other guys. The vet suggested we switch up his diet to see if there’s a food allergy going on, so that’s what I’m working on.”

  “You’re cooking him a meal?”

  “Sort of. It’s just some chicken. Trying to work in a little lean protein to balance out his regular food.”

  “And a song to go along with it.”

  Jonah grinned and stirred the pot again. “I hadn’t made it past the first couple lines.”

  “I love to stuff my face, stuff my face, more kibble?” Kate only meant to speak the words, but found herself singing the last few in her best Meghan Trainor voice. She laughed and continued on, leaning against the counter as Jonah wiped his hands on a dish towel.

  “My mama, she told me to always eat all your foooood,” Kate sang. “If you don’t lick your bowl clean, the humans will think you’re rude.”

  Jonah laughed and tossed the dish towel on the counter. “You know I might be a thick kitty, but I got lots of heart.”

  “So just feed me some chicken, and don’t mind it makes me fart.”

  Jonah cracked up, shaking his head as he tossed the dish towel onto the counter. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he said. “That was awesome.”

  “Thanks,” Kate said, irrationally proud of the compliment. “Maybe if this TV production thing doesn’t work out, I can become a professional cat composer.”

  “It’s good to have goals. Come on. You hungry?”

  “A little bit,” she said. “That smells really good.”

  “It does, but that’s not our dinner. That’s for Porky, remember?”

  “Porky’s got it pretty good.”

  “Not yet, but he will. As soon as we find him a home. Come on, I’ll show you the Cat Café. We’ve been trying to get some of these guys used to being in a room with people eating and not jumping up on the table, so this is good practice.”

  He reached into a compartment above the oven and pulled out a pizza box.

  “Would you mind grabbing those plates?” He nodded at a pair of paper plates rimmed with pictures of cartoon cats, and Kate scooped them up and followed after him.

  “Careful,” he said as he held the door for her. “There are a couple escape artists in here and one new girl who’s not too sure about things yet.”

  “I know the feeling,” Kate said. “Which one’s new?”

  “Judgey-eyebro
w cat over there.” He pointed to a fluffy black-and-white tuxedo kitty on the windowsill. The cat lifted her impressively arched brows and studied Kate with a look of intense scorn.

  Kate laughed. “I see what you mean.”

  The cat had the most unusual markings she’d ever seen. Her body was black fluff with white socks, and her face was white, too. She had a little black spot on one side of her face and eyebrows that gave her a permanently skeptical expression. The brows lifted a bit as Kate approached.

  “If you could caption her right now, she’d be saying, ‘Lady, I don’t think so,’” Kate said as she stroked a hand down the cat’s back. The cat allowed it, but her expression suggested serious doubt about Kate’s petting skills.

  Jonah grinned and pulled the door shut behind him. “She’s been looking at everyone like that today. I heard a guy this morning say, ‘If I wanted someone judging my every move, I’d get a wife. At least then I wouldn’t have to clean a litter box.’”

  “Very nice.” Kate set a plate on each side of a bright-blue table and pulled out a chair as Jonah set the pizza box in the center of the table. She moved a chrome napkin dispenser out of the way and sat down. A fluffy orange tabby hopped into the center of the table, then jumped down as Jonah made a psst sound.

  “Sorry, but it’s how they learn,” he said. “We want them to have manners when they go to their new homes. That way there’s less chance of them getting returned to the shelter.”

  “Sort of like cat finishing school.”

  “Exactly.”

  He opened the pizza box, and Kate breathed in the heavenly aroma of pepperoni and sausage. A little gray cat with white feet stretched up to bat at the box top but didn’t make any moves to jump for it.

  “I’m impressed by your commitment to animal welfare,” she said as Jonah handed her a bottle of iced tea that didn’t feel particularly iced. “Have you always been such an advocate?”

  “Nah.” He sat down across from her and twisted the top off his own bottle, taking a swig before he continued. “I don’t even like cats that much.”

  She blinked at him. “Then why—” She stopped, remembering their conversation in Ashland. “That’s right, you said your sister runs a pet rescue center?”