Curiosity Thrilled the Cat Read Free Page B

the last minute,” I said. Just saying the words made my teeth hurt. I took a step backward, lowering my heel slowly onto the toe of Susan’s right shoe, easing some of my weight down as a warning to her not to say anything, and especially not to laugh at my blatant sucking up. “Again, Mr. Easton, I’m so sorry for what’s happened here.” Susan wiggled her shoe under my foot. I pressed down a little harder. “Please allow me to send breakfast to your suite in the morning to make amends for this evening.”
    He twisted a gold pinkie ring around his finger. The upright piece of hair bobbed at me. I kept the pressure on Susan’s foot. “Please, Mr. Easton. It’s the least I can do.” Well, that part was honest.
    “Very well, Miss Paulson,” he said, “but it doesn’t excuse what happened here.”
    “No, it doesn’t,” I said, trying not to look at his hair, which seemed to have a life of its own now and was waving merrily at me.
    I moved forward again and took Easton’s hand, sandwiching it between mine. “Thank you for your understanding.” I walked him toward the entrance as I talked.
    He paused at the doors. “Miss Paulson, most people would make an issue of this. I, however, am not most people.”
    “I appreciate your graciousness,” I said, smiling sweetly at him.
    He pushed through the doors and disappeared down the stairs.
    I sagged against the wall. I hated this kind of thing, charming and flattering people to defuse their anger.
    “‘I appreciate your graciousness?’ ” Susan laughed behind me. “I’m going to use that on the preschool teacher the next time the twins glue themselves to the top of the monkey bars.”
    “Okay,” I said. “Easton may be a bit of a pompous . . .” I hesitated.
    “Windbag? Twit? Horse’s rear?” Susan asked.
    “Person,” I said. “But he is right about the computer room. It should be ready by now.” I straightened and walked to the back of the library. “And he didn’t deserve to have my cat pounce on him. Where is that fur ball, by the way?”
    “Did you see the man’s hair?” Susan asked. “It was like a little flag up there, waving in the breeze.”
    I rubbed the space between my eyebrows with the heel of my hand. “That reminds me. Would you call Eric and ask him to send breakfast to Easton’s room tomorrow?” Susan’s husband, Eric, owned Eric’s Place, a café near the marina. He used local fruits and vegetables, and made everything in the café’s kitchen. “Ask him to send the bill to me, please. Not the library board. And could you ask him to make it . . .” I waved my hands in the air. “Make it elegant, please.”
    “Will do,” Susan said. “Why did you bring the cat with you, anyway? Were you going to ask me to babysit—I mean cat sit?”
    “No,” I said. “I didn’t bring him on purpose. He just somehow snuck into my bag. I don’t know how,” I finished lamely.
    “Owen? Where are you?” I called, walking back to the computer area. I looked behind a stack of boxes. A low murp came from the wall of windows. I pushed my way around a stack of chairs. Owen sat on the window ledge, seemingly looking out at a sailboat passing on the lake. He was chewing something. I looked around for a head or a corpse of some ill-fated rodent, but found nothing. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
    “You are in so much trouble,” I told the cat as I picked him up. He gave my chin a gentle head butt, his way of pointing out to both of us that he really wasn’t in that deep. “Do you realize who that was?”
    Owen yawned.
    “I think he does,” Susan said. “Hey! I have half a tuna sandwich left. Would he like it?”
    Owen’s ears twitched at the word “tuna.”
    “Are you sure you don’t mind?” I said. “Maybe he’d stay in my office if he had something to eat, and I could still get to tai chi.”
    I carried Owen upstairs, and Susan got the leftover sandwich from the refrigerator up in the staff room. Inside my