by Cate Conte
But Jillian swatted away the question with a flick of her hand as if she were batting away a pesky mosquito. “Not to worry. We have a fund specifically for backing events like this one, for smaller outfits with potential. After all, it’s when we help each other that we all make the most difference, right?”
“Right,” Val agreed. “So that means…”
“The pricier the better. That means we can charge more per ticket,” Jillian said. “A fancy location, an A-list celebrity … and her person.” She winked at Peyton, who smiled a bit at the reference to Rhiannon being the real draw.
“How much exactly will the tickets be?” I asked.
Jillian smiled at me. “I’m still debating, but I’m thinking a thousand a head,” she said, so casually that I almost thought I’d misheard her. “So if we did two hundred people minimum, that would be two hundred thousand dollars. Of course we’d recoup the fees for the venue in our twenty-five-percent cut, but with Peyton’s endorsement I think we could even work out a better deal than that. What do you think?” She looked at me as if for approval.
Val stared at her, eyes wide, before turning to me. “Wow,” she said.
I ignored her. “Sure,” I said, trying for the same breezy attitude to show her that fundraisers that pulled in a grand a ticket were something I was definitely used to. I could see Val’s mouth literally hanging open in my peripheral vision.
“Good,” Jillian said. “Then we’re on the same page. Oh, and I almost forgot!” She jumped up and went to where Rhiannon still lay cuddled in Peyton’s lap. I thought she was going to take the cat or at least pet her, but instead she grabbed the leash attached to her collar and held it up triumphantly. “See this? This is what we’ll be giving away at the event. People are going to go crazy for them.”
“Careful,” Esther said, removing Jillian’s hand from the leash. “You’re jerking her neck.”
Jillian, for once, looked properly chastised. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“Yes, we’ll be giving away a version of this leash-and-collar combo.” Peyton looked at Jillian. “You’re getting the color adjusted, right? And we’re doing something about this.” She touched the little charms that hung from the leash. “It’s not an ideal design.”
“They fall off quite easily,” Esther added. “I lost one just this morning.”
“Yes,” Jillian said. Her tone had a touch of frost to it now. “I’m expecting the new shipment today. I had them overnighted, just to make sure. This is one of the prototypes they sent us,” she explained, turning to me. “The color is a bit off. We asked for them to make it less of a rose pink, and more of a bright pink. Peyton likes to make a statement. Also, the glitter is a mix of gold, silver, and rose gold. Peyton likes only silver glitter.”
“I see,” I said. It looked fine to me, but I guess Peyton could afford to be picky if she was endorsing something.
“It’s fine, but it’s not the shade I want,” Peyton said. She turned to me with an apologetic smile. “I’m picky about Rhiannon’s brand. It’s been fine-tuned over the years.”
“You don’t need to explain to me,” I said. “I get it. JJ has a brand too.”
Jillian ignored our sidebar. “So, should we have a formal meeting with the venue, then?” she asked Val. “We’ll need to get it held quickly.”
“I can see if we can meet them tomorrow,” Val said.
“Great,” Jillian said. “Now. Let’s talk decorations. Peyton, I’m assuming you want to stick with the brand colors?”
“Yes. The right ones,” Peyton added.
“Understood. I’ll let you know as soon as I have the leashes and collars. I’m glad we ordered the different prototypes to make sure we understood the colors in person. Now we know.” Jillian made a note. “I think we need to plan one more pre-event,” she said thoughtfully. “Something to really get people jazzed. Peyton.” She turned to her. “What do you think of doing a meet and greet here at the café? You and Marco?”
Peyton tilted her head to one side, thinking about that. The rest of us waited with bated breath. That actually sounded like an awesome idea. We could sell tickets at the meet and greet. My marketing wheels were already turning. And if Rhiannon was there … cat lovers from all over would rejoice.
“I would do that,” Peyton said finally. “Marco would too. On one condition.” She looked at me, her face serious.
“Sure.” I leaned forward, trying to anticipate her ask.
“Can I go play with the cats for a bit longer while you all finish here?”
I grinned. “By all means,” I said. “That was easy.”
Chapter 12
Twenty minutes later, Grandpa dispersed the meeting. I think Jillian was giving him a headache. Val went back to the café. Esther and Grandpa went back to see what Peyton and the cats were doing, and I walked Jillian and Jo outside to Jillian’s car. I noticed as I stepped out onto the porch that my litter delivery had arrived. All four hundred pounds of it. I had to order my supplies in bulk since we were, well, an island and even Amazon couldn’t just appear at the click of a button. So once every quarter I got a ton of cat litter—the forty-pound bags—so I didn’t have to worry about it for a while. The only problem was, I needed to store it once I got it, which meant Grandpa’s man cave would be full of litter. And lugging around all those bags was never fun.
“What a productive day,” Jillian proclaimed, when we got to her car. “This event is going to be fabulous. I can feel it. Right, Jo?”
“Absolutely,” Jo said, still unsmiling. I wondered if she was this serious all the time, or just at work.
“I’m looking so forward to this,” Jillian said, and opened her door as Jo got in on the passenger side. Another car pulled up to the curb. I recognized the bright yellow Subaru Crosstrek because it was the only one of that color on the island. And it belonged to Stevie Warner, Mish’s husband.
Jillian recognized it too. I knew because I felt her whole demeanor change—she went completely stiff. Which meant she knew Stevie too, not just Mish. Now I was dying to know how.
At that same moment, Adele pulled up into the driveway in her beat-up Prius and our one-o’clock appointment pulled up right behind her.
“Well, okay then,” Jillian said hurriedly. “See you at the meeting.” She got into the car. It wasn’t until she’d rocketed off down the street that Stevie got out of his car. I watched his eyes linger on her vanishing brake lights until she turned the corner, then he waved at me. “Hey, Maddie.”
“Hey, Stevie. Mish isn’t here.”
“I know. I’m actually here to see your grandfather.”
“Grandpa Leo? Why?” I couldn’t help it; I was nosy.
But Adele came over, interrupting. “What was that stunt all about this morning?” she demanded, not even acknowledging Stevie.
“What stunt?” I asked with a sigh. “Giving you the morning off?”
“I didn’t want the morning off,” Adele huffed. “I had things to do. And I bet the place is a mess. Mish called to tell me she wasn’t coming in either.” She glanced at Stevie accusingly, finally acknowledging his presence.
“She did?”
“She didn’t call you?” Adele looked like she was about to blow a gasket.
“She’s not feeling well,” Stevie said apologetically. “It’s been kind of a rough couple weeks for us. My grandmother passed away a few weeks ago. Lots of family stress and it’s taking its toll on Mish.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said. “But it’s no problem.” I shot Adele a warning look. “It’s fine. It was kind of a … busy morning anyway. Can you help our guest?” I waved at the elderly lady who waited patiently at the door. “Oh, and Peyton Chandler is inside. With Rhiannon.”
Adele stared at me. I thought her eyes were about to pop out of her head. “You’re kidding.”
“No. Can you give the customer a heads-up? And don’t act too starstruck.” I winked at her.
Adele nearly ran over to the woman to lead he
r inside. I glanced at Stevie, who looked uncomfortable. “Grandpa’s inside,” I said, taking pity on him. “Come on, I’ll take you in.” I figured I’d just get the scoop from Grandpa later about why he was here.
Stevie followed me, his shoulders hunched like he was trying to hide. Probably from Adele, but it was still weird to see him so subdued. Stevie always had a lot of energy. He was constantly cheerful, overflowing with a kind of nerdy excitement about life that made him endearing. I think that’s why Mish had fallen for him way back when. She had been a popular kid in the traditional sense of the word—cheerleader, pep rallies, the whole deal. When she’d started dating Stevie, I had to admit I’d been surprised. Stevie was the president of the chess club—yes, we had one—and really kind of a geek, albeit super sweet. It had seemed like an odd match at the time.
But it wasn’t. Despite the fact that every guy on the football team tried to date her, Mish only had eyes for Stevie since junior year. They’d both gone to community college on the mainland and gotten married right after graduation.
“Hey, you need this brought in?” he asked when we got to the porch, pointing at the boxes of litter stacked up.
“Oh, yeah, but don’t worry about it. I’ll grab them later, I just haven’t had a chance yet.”
“No worries.” He effortlessly hoisted two of them. I held the door open for him. He was stronger than he looked despite being so skinny. “Where do you want these?”
“Would you mind bringing them down to the basement? Grandpa needs to share his man cave with our supplies, to his great chagrin. I’ll get Grandpa. He’s in the café.”
“No problem.”
“Hey,” I said as I showed him the door to the basement. “Do you know that woman who was leaving when you drove up?”
“What woman?” he asked.
“The woman in the BMW?”
“I didn’t see anyone,” he said. “But I guess I wasn’t really paying attention.”
I frowned, but didn’t push it. I showed him where to stack the boxes, then headed back up to find Grandpa.
He was in the café as I suspected, still chatting with Esther while Peyton sat on the floor surrounded by cats. I had to smile. It was nice to see Grandpa seemingly interested in a lady.
“Hey,” I said. “Stevie Warner is here to see you.” I raised my eyebrows at Grandpa, a silent question.
He ignored it. “Tell him I’ll be right down,” he said.
“He’s moving the litter for me. I told him you’d meet him in your office.”
Grandpa straightened his shirt a bit, as if preparing for an important meeting. I caught Esther watching him too.
I wondered what Stevie wanted with him. Various scenarios were running through my head. Of course at the top of the list was something to do with Mish. But husbands retaining PIs were never a good thing for a marriage. I always liked to think of PI work as daring and exciting, kind of like the heroes and heroines of books, like Carlotta Carlyle and Stephanie Plum. Although Grandpa assured me that most of his jobs were pretty benign, for which on some level I was grateful. I didn’t actually want him running around chasing bad people, or his car getting blown up like Stephanie Plum.
“It was lovely chatting with you,” he said to Esther. “I do have some business to attend to. I’ll see you again, though.”
“I hope so,” Esther said. “Nice to meet you, Leo.”
She watched him leave the room. A cat climbed up into Esther’s lap. She glanced down and smiled, stroking his fur.
I sat down in the spot Grandpa had vacated. “That’s Charlie,” I said, motioning to the kitten.
She focused on me, almost as if she was startled I’d appeared. “He’s darling,” she said.
“So you’ve worked with Peyton for a long time. That must be exciting.”
“I keep a low profile,” Esther said with a smile. “I leave the exciting stuff to her. But it’s fun to be on the water a lot, and she’s lovely. She’s like a daughter to me.”
“That’s nice.” I remembered reading somewhere that Peyton’s real mother had died when she was a teenager. “So do you think she’ll adopt Ashley?” I asked, nodding at them.
“I have no idea,” Esther said. “I’m sure she’s a lovely cat, but Peyton sometimes takes on too much. And she’s got her hands full these days.”
Chapter 13
“A thousand bucks a ticket? Really?” Val plowed through one of Ethan’s muffins, talking around a mouthful. “Did you know she was going to drop that number?”
I was out in the café after they left, looking for food too. There was plenty—all yummy and, truth be told, fattening. Ethan’s muffins were to die for, and today he had cupcakes and croissants as well. He had dumped Jillian’s Danish right into the trash after she left—he hated when people brought competing pastries into our house.
“I had no idea,” I said. “But that’s a lot of money.” I glanced around to make sure there were no customers. The coast was clear for the moment.
“You really think she’ll get it? I mean, no offense, but you’re a little guy.”
“Gee, thanks. And yes, I think she’ll get it.” I selected one of Ethan’s pre-made Buddha bowls and grabbed a fork. “She has the connections. That’s why I’m willing to deal with her … random demands.” I was a little surprised at the amount of money they were ready to just throw at this. I mean, forty thousand was not nothing, especially for a rescue organization. And out of all the rescue places on the eastern seaboard, why me? I mean, it was flattering and all—and as Cass would say, Why not you, Maddie?—but still.
It could be part of a new marketing strategy for the league, I supposed. Cat cafés were all the rage nowadays, and we were an unusual version of one. Typically, places like ours were found in urban settings and catered to busy professionals who either had no time, space, or pet allowances in their apartment leases. But we were different. Our base was smaller, just given our location, and we depended a lot on the summer months, like everyone else on the island. And while most cat cafés worked directly with rescues, ours had become a lifeline for Katrina. The town ACO was the only help for animals in need, which put a heck of a lot of stress on Katrina.
It was also true that we’d gotten that message out, even beyond the island. I had to give Becky credit for that. She’d done some great stories not only on the café itself opening up, but on the direct support our efforts provided to the town, animal control, and by extension, taxpayers. She’d also had one of her reporters do a series on cat rescue throughout the state of Massachusetts. It had covered feral cats, poverty and its impact on people caring for their animals, crowded shelters, and rescue-worker burnout and had highlighted some of our volunteers. In addition, Best Friends Animal Society in Utah had even mentioned us in their tribute to a famous artist who had benefited their efforts as well as the island’s. So for a little place, we’d gotten some big traction. Maybe it wasn’t all that odd that we’d come onto Jillian’s radar.
“Anyway, I hope the Paradise ends up coming through. Do you think they’ll meet with us?”
“Already done,” Val said. “I called and told them who I was. And reminded them who Dad was. And I called Mom. She’s going to join us for the meeting.”
“Smart move,” I said with a grin. People were usually more than happy to accommodate the Daybreak Hospital CEO’s wife.
“Yeah, they said they would be happy to accommodate whatever we needed.”
“Who?” Grandpa asked, walking in. “I need a coffee.”
“Coming right up,” Ethan said.
“The Paradise,” Val said. “We have a meeting tomorrow morning.”
“I need to text Jillian,” I said, pulling out my phone to do so. “And hey, Grandpa. Why was Stevie here?”
Ethan handed Grandpa his coffee. He accepted it, eyes on me. I wondered if he was even going to answer my question.
But he did. “He wanted to talk about a job.”
“A job?” I leaned forward.
“What’s going on?”
“Madalyn. Obviously that’s confidential.”
“Oh, come on, Grandpa! They’re my friends. Mish works here.” It was weak, but I had to try. “Does it involve Mish?”
He stared me down until I sighed and gave up, glancing at my phone. Jillian had texted me back with about a thousand exclamation points about how excited she was to meet with the hotel in the morning.
“Fine. But seriously, are they okay?”
“You’ll have to ask Stevie if you need to know that badly, Doll,” he said. He leaned over and patted my head like he used to do when I was a little kid, then headed out.
Val smothered a chuckle.
“It’s not funny,” I said. “I need to know.”
“Why? You’re just being nosy.”
“I am not! What if it has something to do with Jillian?”
“Why on earth would it?” Val asked.
“She definitely knows Mish. She said it the other day before she avoided telling me why they were yelling at each other. And I know she recognized Stevie’s car. She couldn’t wait to get out of here when she saw him drive up. You think they’re having an affair or something?”
Val and Ethan were both staring at me as I spun the story in my head. It was the only thing that made sense, though. But it also made me mad to think about. I’d personally punch Stevie in the nose if it were true.
I knew I could be nosy, but I got it from Grandpa. And if whatever was wrong was affecting Mish and her work here, then I should know about it. Shouldn’t I?
Of course I should. With the fundraiser coming and all, it was going to be even more important. And Stevie was my friend too.
I finished my Buddha bowl and grabbed a vegan cookie. And decided that yes, of course I should. And there was no time like the present, especially while everyone else was occupied. “I’ve gotta run,” I said. “See you guys in a bit.” And I hurried out before they could ask.