Nine Lives

“You,” Cat muttered.

Wilson’s face was expressionless. “You’re welcome,” he said briefly, and then turned his back on her and walked away.

For whatever reason, Wilson had to face the fact that he did not ring her bells. It was something of a disappointment to accept that, since she was the first woman since he’d turned sixteen who was obviously not interested in him.

The moment he walked away, Cat realized how rude she’d been. She dismounted the weight bench and hurried after him, catching him midway across the floor.

“Hey! Wait! I didn’t mean to take my mood out on you. Thank you for saving my butt back there.”

Wilson felt a surge of pleasure. So she wasn’t as cold and standoffish as she appeared.

“Yeah…sure, and you’re welcome.”

Cat eyed his cropped haircut as well as the tiny gold hoop in his ear and told herself he wasn’t all that. But she was lying.

“Thanks again.”

“Next time, take it easy on the weights.”

“Definitely.”

Then Wilson remembered the charm.

“Say…you didn’t happen to lose something the day of the fire, did you?”

Cat’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yes, actually I did.”

“Like what?” Wilson asked.

“A charm. It was a small silver cat. The only thing I had left of my childhood before…” She hesitated, then shrugged. “It was sentimental. Please tell me you found it.”

“I found it.”

Cat’s eyes rounded in disbelief.

“Oh my God…you’re serious, aren’t you?”

Wilson was surprised by her sudden burst of emotion. It was, after all, just a charm. A small grin tilted the left corner of his mouth.

“Yes, ma’am, serious as a heart attack.”

Cat threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard and fast.

Before he could react, she’d pulled away and high-fived him so vigorously that the palm of his hand actually burned.

“I can’t believe it,” Cat kept saying. “I was so certain it was gone forever. Thank you! You don’t know what it means to me.”

“I’m beginning to get an idea,” He said, rubbing his burning hand on the backside of his gym shorts.

She glanced at her watch, then back at him.

“Where do you live? I’ll come get it. Or, if you’d rather, you can drop it off at my place. Here… I’ll give you my address.”

She tore a piece of paper from a little notebook in her gym bag and quickly wrote out her address.

“That’s my phone number, too,” she said.

Wilson stifled a grin. It wouldn’t do to let her know that he was as excited about the number and address as she was about the charm. He was still holding her address when Cat’s cell phone rang.

She reached into her gym bag, saw the caller ID, recognized Marsha’s number and frowned.

“Look. I’m sorry, but I need to take this. Call me. We’ll set up a time to meet later.”

“Absolutely,” Wilson said, but Cat was already walking away.

“That was weird,” he muttered. She’d been ecstatic to know he had the charm, then had turned all businesslike and cold.

Still, he had her number and he had the charm. It was only a matter of time before they got together. He packed up his things and left the gym, much happier than when he’d gone in.

Cat, on the other hand, had just had her joy reduced to a large knot in the middle of her belly.

“Mimi, what’s wrong?”

Marsha was sobbing. It was all Cat could do to make out what she was trying to say.

“He fired you? Is that what you said? The sorry bastard actually fired you?”

“Yes,” Marsha said, and then drew a deep, shaky breath. “I was escorted from the building as if I’d try to steal company secrets.”

“Are you okay to drive home? Do you want me to—”

“I’m fine,” Marsha said. “My feelings are just hurt. Even though I knew he was angry, I never really thought he was capable of something like this.”

“I’m coming over,” Cat said. “I’ll be there by—”

“No, no, I’m not even home,” Marsha said. “I have a doctor’s appointment in an hour. I’ll come over later.”

“What time?” Cat asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll call you, okay?”

“If you’re sure,” Cat said. She didn’t like it, but Marsha was a grown woman. She had to give her some room to grieve.

“I’m sure,” Marsha said. “Talk to you later.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Cat said.