Читать книгу The Lost Cats and Lonely Hearts Club: A heartwarming, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy - not just for cat lovers! - Nic Tatano - Страница 9

It’s my first day back at work and I cannot wait to get home. The live shot kept me at my job longer than normal, and I’m already imposing on Rory enough asking her to take care of the kittens during the day. But what surprises me is how much I missed my fur babies, especially the tortoiseshell. That kitten has a ton of personality. (I called Rory four times today to check on them, and she called me a helicopter cat parent.) Anyway, I’m speeding through the neighborhood. I slow down for a stop sign and take a quick look in both directions before rolling through it. I’ll see the kittens in a minute.

The flashing lights and the short blast of a siren breaks my train of thought. I look in the rear-view mirror and see the police car right behind me. “Oh, hell. Not now.” I pull into my driveway as the cop stops in front of my house. I open the door and hear the voice over the loudspeaker.

“Please remain in the car.”

I roll my eyes and get back in, reminding myself to be polite and keep my hands in plain sight, then roll down the window as I see the officer approaching in the side mirror. I look up as he reaches the car, not really able to see his face as he’s backlit by the streetlight and is just a silhouette. “Sorry, officer, I was getting out of the car because I actually live here.”

“How convenient. License and registration please.”

I pull the license from my purse and registration from the glove compartment, then hand them to the cop. He shines a flashlight at them. “Huh, you really do live here.”

“I’d have to be kinda stupid to lie to a cop.”

He laughs. “Happens ten times every day, Miss.”

Okay, have to try my best to get out of this. I put on my innocent little girl face (referred to by my friends as my Strawberry Shortcake look), dipping my head and looking up at him through my eyelashes. “So, did I do something wrong, officer?”

“You were well over the speed limit and you blew through a stop sign. What’s your hurry?”

“Trying to get home to take care of four orphaned kittens. My best friend has been stuck at the house bottle feeding them.”

He shakes his head. “Well, that’s a new one on me. Speeding to take care of cats.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Seriously, Miss …” he looks at the license again. “… Shaw, you couldn’t come up with something better than that?” He pulls out a ticket book and clicks his pen.

“Well, since we’re at my house, why don’t you come in and take a look? And if I’m lying you can write me the biggest, most expensive ticket you can think of. But if I’m not, maybe you’ll cut me some slack.”

“Fair enough. Can’t wait to see this.” He opens the door for me and I get out. Still can’t see his face. “Oh, you’re the TV reporter.”

“Yeah.”

“Thought the name sounded familiar. Anyway, let’s see exhibit A.”

I lead him up the stairs and into my home. Rory is on the couch, busy bottle feeding one of the kittens. “Rory, thank you so much. So sorry I’m late.”

Rory looks up and sees the cop behind me. “What’d you do, get a police escort?”

“No, my lead foot got me in trouble.” I turn to face the cop and get a good look at his face for the first time.

Damn.

The guy is beyond cute. Tall, mid-thirties, maybe six-one, thick black hair and olive green eyes. A face with a five o’clock shadow that’s all angles and planes. A uniform that shows off a lean, muscled physique. His Italian features confirmed by his name plate. Officer N. Marino.

He looks right past me at the kittens. “Well, I’ll be damned. You really were racing home for a bunch of orphans.”

I fold my arms and flash a big smile. “And the defense rests.”

“Point taken. Sorry I doubted you.” He crouches down next to the box. “Where’d you get them?”

I tell him the story. “So, anyway, they’re not ready to adopt out yet and Rory takes care of them while I’m at work.”

He nods as he gently strokes the head of a kitten, which rewards him with a purr. “Very nice of you both.” He stands up and puts his ticket book back in his pocket. “Well, since you win the monthly award for the most ridiculous but honest excuse given to a cop and you’re doing a good deed, I’ll let you off with a warning.”

“Thank you, Officer. I’ll drive safely in the future.” Another dose of Strawberry Shortcake.

He locks eyes with me, sending a bit of electricity through my body as he extends his hand. “Nick Marino.”

I shake hands. “Madison Shaw. And this is my best friend, Rory Callahan.”

“Nice to meet you both.”

He doesn’t look at Rory but keeps his gaze on me, adding a soft smile. Finally he lets go of my hand.

Rory finishes feeding the kitten, burps it, puts it back in the box and stands up. “Well, they’re all fed. I’ll get going.” She grabs my forearm as she leans over to whisper in my ear. “Very cute cop. And he already has his own handcuffs.”

“Rory!” I begin to blush as the officer looks down and laughs. Apparently her whisper carried a bit.

Rory heads for the door. “Anyway, thanks, Officer Marino, for giving my friend a break.”

“My pleasure,” he says, as she leaves and closes the door behind her.

I shake my head as I roll my eyes. “You’ll have to excuse her. She has a dirty mind.”

He flashes a devilish grin. “Fortunately, that’s not breaking any laws. If it were I’d have to arrest the whole city.”

“Would you like some coffee, Officer? It’ll just take a minute.”

“Thank you, but I’ve already had my break and I need to get back on patrol.”

Damn. “Cold soda for the road?”

“Sure.”

I head into the kitchen and open the fridge. “Cream or root beer?”

“Cream.”

I pulled out a can and hand it to him. “Here ya go.”

“Oooh, Doctor Brown’s. The young lady has the good stuff.”

“Only the best for New York’s finest.”

“Thanks, Miss Shaw.”

“Madison.”

“Right, Madison.” He starts to head for the door and I follow. He turns to face me, then shakes his finger at me like a teacher. “Now remember, young lady, no more speeding or running stop signs. Who would take care of those kittens if you got into an accident?”

I playfully put out my lower lip in a pout. “Yes, Officer. I promise to be a good girl. You won’t have to pull me over again.” Though I wouldn’t mind.

He reaches into his pocket and hands me a card. “Here’s my card if you ever need anything.”

“Such as?”

He shrugs. “You know. Ne’er-do-wells harassing you. Jars you can’t open. Cat up a tree.”

“I thought that last thing was the fire department’s jurisdiction.”

“Normally it is, but I’m a cat whisperer. I can talk one down if necessary.”

“Good to know. And now that you mention it, I do often have a problem with opening jars.”

“I’m a Jedi Master at that. Seriously, it’s a really nice thing you’re doing for those kittens.”

“Thanks. At first I thought it would be a burden, but now I really miss the little guys when I’m at work. Hence the lead foot.”

“Well, I know they appreciate the care you’re giving them. Cats are very perceptive creatures. They can sense when someone has a good heart. Anyway, gotta go and thanks for the soda.”

“Thanks for cutting me a break, Officer.”

“Nick.”

“Right. Nick.”

“Well, have a good night.”

“Be careful out there.”

He gives me an old fashioned tip of the hat, then heads out the door. I watch him get into his patrol car, see him shoot me a little smile before he drives away.

Rory is right.

Very cute cop.

And a cat person.

The phone rings the second I close the front door. Rory. Who was no doubt spying on me from her house again. I pull back the drapes and see my best friend through the window as I answer the call. “What?”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Extremely hot cop alert. You could get your own personal Magic Mike sequel going with that one. I detected some definite chemistry.”

“Your radar is spot on. He gave me his card and told me to call if I needed anything. Like someone to open jars. Real cute.”

“Ah, he’s interested.”

“So why didn’t he ask me out?”

“He couldn’t. Yet.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He just let you out of a ticket and it would look like he traded a date with you for that. Either that or he probably figured a girl on national television already has someone.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“But trust me, he will. I saw that look he had.”

“He doesn’t have my phone number.”

“He knows where you live, sweetie. And he’s a cop, he could easily look it up.”

“True.”

“And you have his number. If I were you, I’d start lining up those jars you can’t open.”

I’ve just about made it through my first week at work but I’ve been doing something I’ve never done during my entire career.

Watching the clock.

Generally reporters don’t have time to do that since our days are so busy, but now I look forward to getting home and seeing my furry friends.

It’s four-thirty and thankfully I don’t have a live shot tonight so I’ll be home at a decent hour unless some breaking news keeps me here. Politicians are famous for their Friday afternoon document dumps, so I’m hoping that isn’t the case today. Besides, I’m clandestinely working on finding the smoking gun on a United States Senator who the CEO refers to as “Madison’s white whale.” I keep my research under the radar since I have been told in no uncertain terms to back off. I’ve always wondered if the Senator has photos of the CEO naked with a goat because everyone in the news business knows the guy is the poster child for dirty politicians. But I’m handcuffed since corporate won’t let me expend the time or newsroom resources digging up dirt on the guy. The other reason is that countless reporters have tried to go full Ahab on the guy over the years and come up empty. The Senator is really smart and has the unlimited resources to cover his tracks.

Or make them go away. Which is the scary part.

When I see my boss heading in my direction, I quickly shove my notes in a drawer and smile at him.

Barry Post, my short, bald forty year old News Director, arrives at my desk and leans his bulky frame on the edge. “Your story in the can already?”

Dammit, a document dump. He needs a reporter to go out on something. “Yeah. Why?”

He’s wearing a bit of a smile. “Need to run something by you in my office.” He cocks his head in that direction and gets up, so I follow him. Barry closes the door behind me as I take a seat in front of his desk. “I just got some bad news.”

“What, you sick or something?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s Fred.”

Our senior political reporter who covers the President’s re-election campaign. “What happened?”

“He fell down the stairs getting off Air Force One and broke his ankle. Compound fracture. You know, the kind where the bone sticks through—”

“Yeah, I get it. Ugh.” My face tightens as I try not to picture the accident. “Poor guy.”

“Anyway, he’ll be laid up for several months, and I need someone to fill in for him. Madison, I know this has always been your dream assignment.”

My eyes widen as I can’t help but smile. “Seriously? You want me to—”

“Yeah. Cover the President’s campaign till Fred’s back on his feet. Of course that means being on the road for weeks at a time.”

Suddenly it hits me.

The kittens.

My face drops a bit and he notices. “I thought you’d be doing cartwheels, Madison.”

“I, uh … well, I have some personal obligations. I would, uh, have to make some arrangements.”

“Something with your family? Everyone okay?”

Hell, I can’t tell the guy I might blow off the plum assignment of a career to take care of a bunch of kittens. “Yeah, it’s … well, it’s personal.”

“I hope you’re okay, Madison.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, Barry, can I let you know on Monday?”

“Sure. But I can’t wait any longer. I need a yes or no first thing Monday morning, and if it’s a no I have to give the assignment to Jennifer.”

He just made the decision even harder.