Claws for Alarm

by Cate Conte

  “Oh. My. Goodness. Would you look at this place?” She turned in a slow circle, a huge smile on her face. She reminded me a bit of Mary Tyler Moore in the opening credits of her show. All she needed was a hat to throw into the air.

  Adele stood by the window, almost like she was standing guard. Harry was still there too. He was rolling around on the floor with one of the kittens, which was kind of adorable.

  Jillian thought so too. Her squeal of delight sent a couple of the cats running for their favorite hiding places. “This is precious!” she cried, pulling out her cell phone and snapping a photo before I even registered what she was doing.

  Harry turned, his face turning pink with embarrassment. As soon as Jillian turned away, I shrugged. “Sorry.”

  Jillian didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. “I am in love.” She walked slowly around, her head turning this way and that, the overwhelming smell of her perfume tickling my nose. “This is the most adorable place I’ve ever seen! And this house. However did you find this phenomenal location?”

  “It’s Grandpa Leo’s house. It’s been in our family for generations.” If she had done her research, which I’d assumed she had, she would’ve known that. Every piece that had been written about my café clearly mentioned the fact that it was part of my grandfather’s house, which to me was the better part of the story.

  Grandpa didn’t seem to mind explaining. In fact, he loved talking about the house. “My great-grandfather built it,” he said.

  “Oh, that’s right!” Jillian gave herself a gentle head smack. “I swear, I don’t know where my brain is lately. I do remember reading that. Look at these little loves. How many cats live here?”

  “Currently we have fifteen. I can introduce you to them.”

  “I’ll do the honors.” Grandpa winked at me and led them around the room, introducing each cat—the ones who weren’t hiding, anyway—and told her their backstories, or at least as much as we knew of them. Sometimes we had little to no idea where these poor cats came from or what their lives had been like before they found Katrina and, ultimately, us.

  I watched the tour, letting Grandpa do his thing. He really loved the café and in this role he really had gotten used to schmoozing people. It had resulted in a lot of adoptions and donations.

  And he was doing a bang-up job today. Jillian certainly seemed impressed. Jo didn’t have much of an affect, but at least she’d taken off those glasses and seemed to be paying attention. I watched her absentmindedly nuzzling kitty heads as she listened to Grandpa.

  Jillian made all the appropriate commentary and oohed and ahhed over our residents, but I noticed she didn’t touch any of the cats aside from JJ. It struck me as odd, but I chalked it up to a fellow rescuer recognizing that cats who had come from precarious situations could be skittish and she didn’t want to stress them out. And, people were different. If it were me, I’d probably be picking them all up and snuggling with them.

  Or, she might not want to get cat hair on that fancy outfit. I hated to think it was the latter.

  If Grandpa noticed, he didn’t blink. All those years of being a cop—that whole poker-face thing. Although he did seem quite curious about our guest. I caught him watching her a few times when he thought no one else was looking, and I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

  Once they’d met all the cats who weren’t hiding, Grandpa led her into the store, where Jillian shrieked in delight over the JJ-branded clothing and promised to buy a few items to bring home to all her friends.

  “She’s … excited,” Adele said under her breath as we watched from a bit of a distance.

  “I’ll say,” I said. “But that’s good, right?”

  “Depends on how much of her you can take,” Adele said. From her tone, it was obvious that she couldn’t take much more. “That other one is quieter. I prefer her.”

  Once Grandpa finished his spiel, he turned back to me. “Did you want to show our guests the food part of the café?”

  “Sure,” I said, turning to them. “Ethan, my business partner, really wanted to have a separate café area where he could cook and bake and have more room for people to sit, either while they’re waiting to visit with the cats or even if they just need a place to hang out. So we transformed the garage into his dream café. It’s right outside here.”

  I started to lead them out the side door so I could take her to the garage, but Jillian stopped, turning in a slow circle, hands out like she was waiting for a vision to come to her.

  I glanced at Grandpa. He shrugged.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “No! On the contrary.” She dropped her hands and turned back to me. “This is an amazing place you’ve got here. I am so impressed. And you and your Grandpa.” She turned to him and beamed. “Could you two be any cuter?”

  Grandpa’s face reddened a tiny bit. I, on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure where this was going.

  “Thanks,” I said. “So, the café is this way—”

  “In a minute.” Jillian still had that giant smile on her face, looking from me and Val to Grandpa and back again. “How would you all feel about a fundraiser?”

  Grandpa and I looked at each other. “A fundraiser?” I asked. “You mean, do we have any planned?”

  “No. I mean, how would you like to have one? In partnership with our organization?”

  I cocked my head at her, trying to keep up. “We’re always looking to raise money.”

  She nodded vigorously. “Of course you are. I can help.”

  “But where would it be? In New Jersey?” I asked doubtfully. Why would people in Jersey want to support my little place?

  Jillian’s face suggested I was slow. “Of course not. Here on the island. As soon as we can put it together. And I have a great idea on how we can get people to really pay attention to this place, this event.”

  “Pay attention?” Grandpa asked.

  “Yes, pay attention!” She swirled her hands in the air as if trying to conjure up some sort of special audience. “Get them here. Get them donating. Make sure they are in a giving frame of mind. I can’t imagine a better place to invite my most generous donors to be part of.”

  I still wasn’t really following. “So you want to have a fundraiser and you’ll back it? Meaning what, like you’ll invite people here? It’s kind of a long trip for your typical guests, right?”

  “Oh, honey. That doesn’t matter at all. We’ve got lots of secret weapons in our pocket.” She winked at me. “So what do you say? You want to hear my proposal?”

  Chapter 5

  I was always open to hearing a proposal, and this meeting, while a bit odd, intrigued me. “I would love to,” I said, glancing at Grandpa.

  He nodded. “Fine by me.”

  “Excellent.” Jillian glanced around. “Shall we have that coffee? I have a bit of time before my next appointment. And I’m starving.” She patted her flat stomach. “And I can’t wait to try some of the goodies you’ve been telling me you serve here.”

  “Right this way.” I glanced at Adele, silently questioning if she was coming. She shook her head. I led the way out the side door and over to the garage/café, Grandpa and Val trailing behind us, Jo bringing up the rear. Before we even reached the door, I caught the whiff of something delicious. When I went inside, I had to do a double take. JJ sat on the counter, almost like Ethan had trained him to wait for us. He looked adorable. And of course, he gave his welcome squeak when we walked in.

  The presentation Ethan had put together was even better. He had outdone himself for this visit. When we’d all left with Damian, Ethan had been barefoot and in his usual shorts and T-shirt. Not only had my tall, lanky, surfer-dude business partner changed into khakis and an actual button-down shirt—notable because it was all Val could do to get him to wear pants instead of Bermuda shorts in the middle of a Daybreak Island winter—but he had also taken steps to tame his unruly red hair by smoothing it back into a ponytail. He’d trimmed his beard too. I
did catch a glimpse of flip-flops when I peeked behind the counter, but hey. Otherwise it wouldn’t be Ethan.

  He’d pulled together a couple of the café tables and laid out a spread of baked goods, as well as a cheese-and-cracker plate, a bowl of olives, and some fruit. He was quick. We hadn’t even been gone that long.

  Val, who was serving coffee, caught my eye and winked.

  “Hey, Ethan. The place looks amazing,” I said. “These are our guests from the League—Jillian Allen and Jo Sabatini.”

  Ethan turned solemnly from the counter where he was slicing into an obviously still-warm chocolate cake and stepped forward with his hand extended. “Ms. Allen. Ms. Sabatini. It is such a pleasure to meet you both. Ethan Birdsong.”

  Jillian, eyes wide as she took in the food, stepped forward and grabbed his hand. But instead of shaking it, she reached over and hugged him so hard I could see his eyes pop. She wasn’t terribly tall, but her heels were so high she came up to Ethan’s neck, an impossible feat for most people.

  I watched Val’s eyes narrow a bit.

  “You are an angel from heaven,” she declared, stepping back after a beat too long. “I may just have to hire you away as my personal chef.”

  Now my eyes narrowed, but I recovered before she turned back to me. “Ethan’s wonderful,” I said. “This is the second business we’ve owned together. And he’s just as good at business as he is at baking. And you met my sister Val earlier.”

  Val lifted a hand in a quick wave.

  “Of course. Do you work here too?” Jillian asked Val.

  “Sometimes,” Val said. “I have my own business, though. I’m an event planner.”

  “An event planner?” Jillian threw back her head and let out a delighted peal of laughter. “Another sign this was meant to be! That is wonderful. Well then, you need to sit down for this conversation too.” She pulled out a chair and, without waiting for anyone to join her, began filling her plate with cheese and crackers.

  Val looked at me, clearly wondering if Jillian was a little off her rocker. I honestly wasn’t sure. I went to help Val with the coffee. “How do you take your coffee, ladies?”

  “Just black, thank you. I can’t afford the extra calories of the cream and sugar, as delightful as it is.” She smiled ruefully. “I’d rather have one of these.” She plucked a muffin from a plate piled high with them. “Is this berry?”

  “Blackberry,” Ethan said with a smile. “One of my specialties.”

  “Mmm.” Jillian bit into it and nearly swooned.

  Jo asked for black as well. I poured their coffees and set them down, then poured one for Grandpa and me. Ethan didn’t drink caffeine, and Val was cutting back. She said coffee after two in the afternoon made her too wired.

  We all sat. I was pretty hungry too and nibbled on some crackers and olives.

  “So what do you think of the café?” Ethan asked.

  Jillian swallowed her muffin. “I think it’s absolutely the most delightful thing I’ve ever seen. The location, the mission, the people … I just can’t get over it.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Ethan said, glancing at me.

  “In fact, I love it so much that I had an absolute brainstorm while I was meeting all your residents,” she explained to Ethan. “Which I was just about to elaborate on for your colleagues here.”

  “Really. Please, go ahead,” he said.

  She paused to take another bite. When she’d finished chewing, she said, “I want to formally propose partnering with you all on a fundraiser for the café. A major fundraiser.” She sat back, triumphant, waiting for our response.

  “Wow,” Ethan said. “Really? You mean in New Jersey?”

  “Oh, no, no, no, darling.” Jillian laughed. “You two have the same brain,” she said, winking at me. “No, right here on the island! I mean, the setting is half the charm, right? That’s what I was saying to Maddie and Leo before we came out here. No, we can do big things here. Big things.”

  “How big?” Grandpa asked. “This is a small island.”

  “Of course, but it’s summer. Which means it’s, what, four or five times the typical residents?”

  “At least,” Grandpa said. “We have about twenty-thousand year-rounders. Over the summer, we get up to two hundred thousand plus.”

  “He used to be the police chief,” I said.

  For the first time since her arrival, Jo looked interested. She glanced at Grandpa from under those long bangs, her chin-length bob tilting with her head.

  “That’s impressive! And so is that number. The best part, they all have money.” Jillian winked. “And I can get them to open their wallets. Trust me, the café and your rescue operations will be catapulted to the next level after one of our fundraisers. You’ll be able to expand, think about a franchise, help more animals, whatever you want. Even think of dropping a JJ’s in Boston, maybe?”

  Ethan and I looked at each other. We did have the same brain, and I could tell we were running the same kinds of pros and cons. “In Boston,” I said thoughtfully. “That would be something to think about. And a more straightforward model.” I shook the thought off, focusing on the immediate matter. “But how does this fundraising idea work? Does your league typically run fundraisers for other places?”

  “Sure we do,” Jillian said. “We take a small percentage for our staff and expertise, of course, but the majority of the money is yours.”

  I could hear Adele’s voice in my head: Of course they take a percentage. All they care about is money. I pushed it out. “What kind of an event do you have in mind?”

  Jillian smiled. “Big. An auction. Silent, live. Celebrity guest. I actually have two in mind.”

  That made my ears perk up. “Celebrity? Like what kind of celebrity?”

  “Like, an A-list actor. Maybe two.” That wink again. It was starting to annoy me. I wanted to ask her if she had something in her eye.

  It wasn’t far-fetched; there were a lot of celebrities who summered on Daybreak Island. It was a coveted spot for sure. But I wanted to know exactly what I was getting. “Sweet. Who are they?” I asked.

  She reached over and patted my hand. “I can’t give away all my aces before we have an agreement, can I?”

  “Agreement?” I repeated.

  “Well, I want to know if you’re in before we go any further. We need to agree that we’re doing this, and have some ground rules for how we’ll do it, don’t you think?” She turned to Val. “And this is where you come in. You can plan the party! It will be a complete family affair—how great is that? The marketing materials will practically write themselves.”

  Val’s eyes widened. “Me? Really?”

  Jillian nodded vigorously. “Yes, you. You’re exactly what we need. You know the island, the right venues, the best food, right?”

  “Well, yeah, I suppose I do,” Val said.

  “Great. Then it’s settled. I can bring staff over to help you. How many people on your team?”

  Val was in the process of hiring her first full-time employee, although she hadn’t yet found anyone who fit the bill. She’d been enlisting our youngest sister, Sam, when she needed someone. Sam was still “finding herself,” and was currently doing so back at our parents’ house, which meant she needed money. And Val’s summer slate was booking out fast, to her delight, and she’d realized she couldn’t do it all on her own.

  “One full-timer and a couple part-timers,” Val said breezily.

  “Oh, you’ll need an army,” Jillian assured her. “Which I can get you. Jo’s team will come out. They are event pros. And it’s just another way to support the local economy on this beautiful island! And who can resist so much family doing so many good things, working together, making a difference? I mean, really. The story is perfect.”

  I had to agree with her. As a creative and a businesswoman at the same time, I was always looking for the best way to market ourselves. “I love it,” I said.

  “I had a feeling you would. So. We’re settled, then?
” Jillian asked.

  “I’m good,” I said. “I think it’s a great idea.” Katrina, for one, would be delighted to hear this. Especially given the budget cuts, which I knew were really bothering her. She already used a lot of her own money to help the animals, and she didn’t even make that much. And she was currently dealing with a situation where a bunch of dogs had been rescued from a bad situation and needed foster care, which meant she’d need to give the foster parents funds to care for the dogs.

  Yeah, she would be ecstatic.

  I looked at my sister. I could tell she wasn’t completely sold on her role in this venture, but she would take my lead.

  She hesitated for a second, then smiled. “I’m in.”

  Jillian looked at Grandpa.

  “How can I resist? I’m in too,” Grandpa said.

  “Wonderful! Ethan? Shall we make it unanimous?”

  He looked at me and Val, then nodded. “Sure.”

  “Fantastic!” She clapped her hands. “You won’t regret it!”

  “Jillian, this is great. I don’t know what to say,” I said.

  She plucked an olive out of the bowl and popped it into her mouth. “Say you’re ready to get to work, because we’re going to have a shindig! So how does two weeks from tomorrow sound?”

  Val’s eyes widened and she looked at me. “Two weeks?”

  Two weeks from tomorrow. Today was Friday, so she wanted to have the event on a Saturday night, which made sense. Still, it was a heck of a short time. I’d put auctions together before, and we’d begun planning almost a year in advance.

  Jillian nodded. “It would have to be. The name I have in mind has some other commitments as the summer goes on. Gotta grab the time while we can! You understand, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure we can pull this together in two weeks,” Val said. “We need a venue, which book out really fast this time of year. And you mentioned an auction—we need to find donors, and pick up items, and package them—”

  “I told you, I’m bringing you a whole staff,” Jillian assured her. “Don’t worry. I just need you leading. I don’t need you executing. We have people for that.”