by Rachel Lacey
“All I did is bring them to you, because I don’t have the first clue what to do for them.”
“Which was exactly the right thing to do,” Josie said, eyes snapping the way they did when she got passionate about something. “You saved their lives when you pulled them out of the trash, and then you searched until you found someone to help you revive them. You wouldn’t take them to the shelter to be euthanized.”
Eve lifted her chin. “I would, if you leave me no other choice.”
Josie grinned as she called Eve’s bluff, revealing dimples that might be Eve’s undoing if Josie hadn’t apparently already undone her. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Tonight,” Eve heard herself saying. “Just for tonight.”
Josie’s smile grew to encompass her whole face, glowing as brightly as the neon dye in her hair. “Tonight’s a start. We’re going to save these guys, Eve, you and me.”
“You are,” Eve corrected her. “You’re going to save them.”
“With your help.” Josie bent her head and kissed the white kitten on top of the pile. “I’ll even let you name them.”
Eve huffed in annoyance. She was exhausted and starving, had been ready for the quiet comfort of her apartment hours ago, and yet here she was, still in her heels and covered in cat pee. “I don’t want to name them. I don’t want anything to do with them.”
“I’ll name them, then,” Josie said with a shrug. “And I’ll put together a box of supplies for you. Call me anytime with any questions. I’ve bottle-fed hundreds of kittens, even smaller than these.”
“All the more reason you should be doing it, not me.”
“I would if I could,” Josie said. “It kills me that I can’t take them, but I need to get back to the bar before Adam messes up too many orders and has everyone drinking on the house.”
“Fine.” Eve tugged at her blouse, wincing as she felt the urine-soaked fabric stick to her skin. Ugh. It smelled awful. And it looked worse.
“Do you want a clean shirt to wear home?” Josie asked.
Eve opened her mouth to decline, but the thought of wearing this shirt for the thirty-minute ride back to her apartment… “Actually, that would be great.”
“You bet.” Josie went through the open door to their left, entering what Eve presumed was her bedroom. She returned a minute later with several shirts. “Whichever you like. Bathroom’s in there.”
“Thank you.” Eve took the garments and went through the door Josie had indicated, finding herself in a small bathroom painted a sunny yellow. A large orange cat rose from where it had been asleep on the bathmat, glared at her, and stalked out of the room.
Eve closed the door. She unbuttoned her blouse and slid out of it, taking a moment to rinse the cat pee off herself at the sink before she grabbed a fitted black tee off the top of the pile and pulled it over her head. It was such a relief to have on something clean and dry, she wouldn’t have cared if the shirt was as iridescent as Josie’s hair.
She balled up her soiled blouse and walked back to the kitchen, where Josie was busily putting supplies in a box. She grinned. “I had a bet with myself that you’d pick that one.”
“It was on top,” Eve snapped, then sighed, reminding herself none of this was Josie’s fault. “Thank you for lending it to me. And for the supplies.”
“No problem. And please, call me at any hour if you’re worried about them or have any questions. I’m working until two, so chances are, I’ll be up anyway.”
Eve nodded. Just tonight.
“Okay, I’ve packed you a day’s worth of formula, towels, warmers, a stuffed cat for them to snuggle against as a replacement for their mother…” Josie kept going, rummaging through the box as she spoke, going over feeding schedules and formula preparation. “I know it’s a lot to remember, but I’ve got YouTube videos detailing all of it. If you just search my channel, you’ll find them.”
“I’ll do that.”
“And they’ll need to see a vet tomorrow,” Josie told her.
“I don’t have time—” Eve cut herself off at the hurt look on Josie’s face. Maybe she could send one of the interns to the vet with them while she worked. “Fine.”
“I’ll email you the name of a vet I’ve worked with in Manhattan who’ll put their bill on the tab for my rescue.”
“I can pay for it,” Eve said reflexively. She could afford it, and she had the impression that most small charities like Josie’s struggled in that area.
“Okay,” Josie said evenly, not putting up the fight Eve had expected. “I really appreciate that. If you send me a copy of the bill, I’ll give you a receipt from the rescue so you can write it off as a charitable donation on your taxes.”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll help you carry this stuff out, on my way back to the bar,” Josie said. “Did you come here in a cab?”
“I did. It didn’t seem wise to take a sack of barely alive kittens on the subway.”
“Probably not.” Josie paused, eyes locking on Eve’s. “Before you go…”
“Yes?”
“You probably guessed that I watch your show, and…” She looked away, seemingly flustered for the first time since they met.
Was she trying to ask for an autograph? Sometimes people did, and it still caught Eve off guard. She used her marketing skills on television, fixing real businesses for real people. Yes, some of it was staged, but she didn’t consider herself a celebrity, or even a public figure. She was a businesswoman at heart, and she always would be. “I did assume that, yes.”
Josie sucked in a breath, meeting her eyes. “I don’t know how to say this other than to just…say it. Swanson’s is in trouble. It’s…it’s on its last leg, to be frank. I can’t pay the bills, and I’m working almost every shift because I can’t afford to hire a staff. I actually put in an application to Do Over, but it was rejected.”
Eve straightened as she realized what Josie was asking. Not an autograph request after all. And this was worse.
“I know you probably have someone screen the applications for you, but now you’re here, and it feels like kismet, so I have to ask.” Josie’s hazel eyes bored into Eve’s, steady and intense, dripping with emotion. “To beg, really. Have Swanson’s on your show. Do your thing, work your magic, save my bar. Please.”
Eve took a step backward, jaw clenching. “I don’t do bars. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t think of it as a bar. Think of it as my home. Please, Eve. I grew up here. It’s all I have left of my parents.” Josie felt a hot flush spread over her skin and the prick of tears behind her eyes. “Please.”
“I can’t.” Eve’s voice seemed to have shrunk, no longer edged in steel but something else, something Josie couldn’t place. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m doing everything I can to help you with these kittens. Please at least consider helping me in return.” She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, and truly, she had given her help to Eve without expecting anything in return. Her plea to save the bar was something completely separate.
Eve’s nostrils flared, her iron-clad armor back in place. “Season two has already been filmed, and we aren’t accepting applications yet for season three. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t help you.”
“Fine,” Josie acquiesced, for tonight anyway. But surely fate had brought Eve Marlow to Swanson’s tonight for a reason. Right now, Eve felt like her last hope, and Josie could be as persistent as a cat trying to catch the red dot from a laser pointer when she wanted something.
But first, she needed to get back to the bar, and Eve needed to get the kittens home. She settled the bundle of kittens inside a box she often used to transport kittens to and from vet appointments. Then she lifted the box of supplies while Eve picked up the box of kittens, and together they walked downstairs. Eve called an Uber, and it arrived almost as soon as they made it outside. She opened the back door, speaking briefly with the driver before tucking the box of kittens inside.
Once the supplies
were stowed, Eve turned to her. “You’ll be in touch tomorrow after you’ve spoken to the rest of your contacts?”
“I will.”
They stared at each other for a beat of silence before Eve said, “Thank you for your help.”
“You’re welcome.” She watched as Eve slid into the backseat of the car, somehow managing to make even Josie’s black T-shirt look stylish. She was everything and nothing Josie would have expected her to be—cool and businesslike, at times downright intimidating, but beneath it, there was a softness to her that Josie hadn’t anticipated.
She hadn’t expected this attraction either, and it was inconvenient, to say the least. She didn’t want to like anything about Eve, not her reluctance to keep the kittens, not her refusal to even consider helping Swanson’s, and certainly not those piercing brown eyes that seemed to see right into Josie’s soul.
The animal rescuer in her felt intensely uncomfortable sending those vulnerable kittens off with someone who had threatened to have them euthanized, someone with absolutely no experience in caring for them. But she didn’t exactly have a choice, and deep down, her gut said Eve would never harm them. If nothing else, Josie had always trusted her gut impression of people.
Turning, she walked back inside, where she found Adam deep in conversation with the man who’d hit on her earlier, and from the look of things, Adam might have a chance with him after all. Kaia sat on her usual stool, texting on her phone, the only other customer in the bar.
Josie’s stomach dropped. A few years ago, this place would have been packed. Something had changed since her father died. She suspected the influx of newer, trendier bars in the neighborhood had played a part, but surely her inexperience was a factor too. Maybe her customers could sense that Swanson’s wasn’t her true passion the way it had been for her father. Maybe she was singlehandedly ruining everything her family had worked so hard for.
“How did it go?” Kaia asked, interrupting Josie from her spiraling thoughts.
“Okay, I guess.” Josie made her way behind the bar, tapping Adam’s shoulder to let him know she was back but not wanting to interrupt whatever he had going on with the sad businessman…who had a fresh tumbler of whiskey in his hands. Josie filled a glass of water and plunked it on the bar in front of him. “Drink this next,” she told him with a gentle smile.
He returned it with one of his own, giving her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” she muttered as she made her way down to Kaia. “Please tell me I’m not old enough to be called ma’am.”
“Thirty-two?” Kaia looked her up and down, lips pursed. “I hate to say it, babe, but I think you’ve entered ma’am territory.”
“Shut up. You’re only a year younger than me.”
Kaia’s lips twitched with amusement as she sipped her beer. “Tell me more about Miss Television Star with the rescue kittens. Did you get her number or what?”
“I already had her number, actually. She’s…I don’t know, all business, I guess. She really doesn’t want to keep those kittens.”
“Can’t blame her there.” Kaia’s nose wrinkled. “You know I love you, Jo, but I can’t imagine doing what you do for those kittens, being up with them all night? Wiping their butts? It’s a lot to take on.”
“I guess.” She blew out a breath, checking to see that the sad businessman was indeed drinking his water. “On her show, she goes into struggling businesses and gives them a makeover. She fixes them up and gives them a fresh start.” Josie paused, scraping her thumbnail against a rough spot on the bar top. “I asked her to save Swanson’s.”
“Save Swanson’s?” Kaia’s eyebrows rose. “What are you talking about?”
“Look around, Kai.” Josie hadn’t told her friends how dire things had gotten, but they had eyes. It was no secret Swanson’s was struggling.
“Are you in trouble?” Kaia leaned forward, dark eyes locked on Josie’s. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me? Shit, and you’ve been letting me run this tab forever.”
“I don’t want your money. It’s not about that. I love having you guys here. I just need customers. I don’t know where they’ve all gone, really, but they’re not here anymore.”
Kaia swiveled in her seat, scanning the bar as if she’d never truly seen it before. “I had no idea. I just thought…I don’t know what I thought.”
“It’s not your job to think anything about it. It’s mine. And I’ve been trying, but I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. So I asked Eve to help me, begged her, really.”
“And?”
“She turned me down flat.”
“Damn, that’s cold,” Kaia said, whistling softly under her breath. “Did she say why?”
“She doesn’t do bars, whatever that means.”
“Maybe she’s a recovering alcoholic,” Kaia suggested.
“Hmm.” Josie thought of Eve’s odd reaction to her request, that brief moment when she’d seemed to retreat inside herself. “Yeah, maybe. I didn’t think of that.”
“Ask her out, and maybe she’ll tell you.”
Josie gave her a frustrated look. “I’m not going to ask her out. I don’t even know if she dates women. And anyway, I’m not finished pleading my case. I promised to call her tomorrow about the kittens, so I’m going to do some research in the meantime and come up with an irresistible argument to convince her to have me on her show.”
“That’s the spirit.” Kaia raised her beer in Josie’s direction.
“Yeah, well, just cross your fingers for me that it works.” Because one way or another, she was determined to land herself a spot on Do Over.
4
Eve sat cross-legged in bed, box of kittens in front of her and her laptop beside it. Somehow, feeding them had been astronomically easier with Josie there to guide her. Eve had fumbled through her first solo feeding two hours ago, but now, everything was falling apart. She’d spilled formula all over herself while she was feeding the black kitten, and she couldn’t even wake the white one up, let alone make it eat. It was one in the morning, and Eve had only managed an hour of sleep. Annoyance buzzed in her veins as she laid the white kitten across her thigh while she held the syringe to its lips.
No luck. The kitten rolled over, snuggling into a crease in her pajama pants. She took a paper towel and helped it pee, hoping that might wake it up, but the kitten was still lost in dreamland. Leaving it in her lap, she pressed Play on a video about syringe-feeding newborn kittens, unnerved to hear Josie’s voice in her otherwise silent bedroom. The kittens really didn’t make much noise, except when she lifted them out of their box.
“You want to make sure to keep them upright while you’re feeding them,” Josie told her from the screen, hot pink hair in a high ponytail on her head. This video was a few years old, and Josie looked younger, impossibly bubbly and energetic…adorable, in a word.
Eve sighed. Exhaustion pressed over her, weighing her down. Caretaking didn’t come naturally to her. She wanted to pour some food in a bowl and leave the kittens to it. Syringe-feeding newborns was foreign and tiresome and stressful. She eyed the white kitten, currently nestled against her hipbone and still fast asleep.
Frustrated, she lifted the gray one out of the box and successfully got it to eat a small amount of formula. She had similar success with the gray-and-white kitten. The video ended, so she clicked on Josie’s avatar to bring up a list of all her videos, hoping she might find one that would help her deal with the sleepy kitten in her lap.
Until about two years ago, Josie had uploaded videos regularly, many of them with hundreds of thousands of views. There were instructional videos, educational videos about animal rescue, videos chronicling the stories of various kittens she’d cared for, and a series of livestream Q&A sessions.
By all appearances, Josie had been doing well for herself with her channel and her rescue. What had changed? She’d mentioned that she took over the bar after her father died. It would make sense that she’d had less time for kitten res
cue after that. And now, despite her personal sacrifice, she was on the verge of losing Swanson’s too.
Eve felt for her. She really did. But she couldn’t work in a bar. She just couldn’t. Reflexively, she rested a hand against the ache in her lower back. She looked down at the white kitten, its tiny face pressed against Eve’s belly.
“We’ll take turns with the two a.m. feedings.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Lisa said, nudging her playfully. “You’re a beast when you don’t get your beauty sleep.”
“I’m serious,” Eve told her, meaning the words from the bottom of her soul. “I want to share it all with you.”
Lisa laced their fingers together. “You will.”
Eve’s breath hitched, her fingers clenched into fists, anger burning past the emptiness that usually occupied the place in her chest where she’d once loved so fiercely. Why wouldn’t the damn kitten eat? Why couldn’t Josie just take them? Why had some pathetic excuse for a human being thrown them out like trash in the first place?
In that moment, she hated him, whoever he was, hated Josie for asking Eve to save her bar, hated herself for not having the patience to feed the damn kitten. She hated everything.
This fucking day…
She leaned back, fists braced against the mattress behind her, breathing past the pain, blinking furiously through the moisture in her eyes. Sometimes it snuck up on her like this, in the dark hours of the night, how much she missed them. Her fingers twisted in the blanket beneath her, clinging to it until the moment had passed.
Sitting up, she lifted the white kitten. It lay limply in her hands, letting out a tiny whimper, utterly helpless. It was the smallest of the surviving four and by far the weakest. Would it live? Was she fighting a losing battle trying to save it?
“Come on,” she muttered, holding the syringe against the kitten’s mouth. It turned away, mouth stubbornly closed. Eve was at her wit’s end. She needed the kitten to eat so she could try to sleep for a few hours before she had to do this all again. She had to go to work in the morning, and she was going to be a zombie. Already, she’d lost hours of time that should have been spent looking for a new client to shoot the replacement episode. “You’ve got to help me out here,” she told the kitten, receiving a whimper in response.