Untamable

by Jamie Schlosser

  “And you’ll be compensated for your time, regardless.”

  “I don’t understand.” She glanced at me. “Isn’t this why I’m here?”

  Emery’s hand assaulted his hair again—a nervous habit I was picking up on—ruining my efforts to tame it. “It’s my mistake. I think I came to the wrong conclusion.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” she argued, giving him an effective warning glare. “Let me do my job.”

  They entered a stare-down. As the seconds ticked by, things got awkward.

  “If Janice wants to talk, I’m more than willing to do it.” My voice got higher at the end because I was confused. Who was this woman and why didn’t Emery want me talking to her?

  She handed me a business card. “Dr. Janice Hudson, psychiatrist at your service.”

  “Psychiatrist?”

  Nodding, she beamed. “I’m thrilled to be working with the show on this project. I specialize in hoarding tendencies, but this is the first time I’m dealing in the subject of live animals.”

  “Hoarding tendencies…” I parroted, then it clicked. As a self-proclaimed reality show junkie, I’d watched those extreme hoarding episodes. How many nights had I spent on my couch surrounded by my cats wondering why these people couldn’t just get rid of their stuff? My gaze swung to Emery. “Y’all think I’m crazy? Like, legitimately bat-shit crazy?”

  “I did,” he admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “But I don’t think that anymore. We hire Dr. Janice if we think our clients might need counseling.”

  I just shrugged. Given the situation, I guess I couldn’t blame him for making that assumption.

  Janice turned to me with a pleasant smile. “I’m here if you need me. If not, I guess I’ll just enjoy an impromptu vacation.”

  Just as she walked away, the douche producer waved his hand around and announced, “We’re rolling again. We’ll have time to socialize later. Let’s get that tour.”

  “Is he always this much of an asshole?” I muttered quietly to Emery.

  He grimaced. “Unfortunately, yeah. But the good thing is, he won’t be around all the time. If you can get through today without strangling him, you’ll be fine.”

  “I make no promises,” I deadpanned before turning toward the hallway. Stopping at the first door on the right, I grinned and made a sweeping motion with my arm. “This is the cat room.”

  The crew had done a good job of working around the cats’ belongings, because the only difference I spotted was one small camera mounted to the wall by the closet. Joel moved stealthily into the room after us and shrank back into the corner, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

  “Whoa.” Emery turned in a circle. “You really went all-out in here, huh?”

  The small bedroom was devoid of any human furniture, but it was every feline’s dream.

  A kitty castle, made from an upcycled TV entertainment center, was the main focus of the room. I’d painted it with pastel colors and glitter. Not like the cats cared, but I thought it was pretty. Then there were eight little round beds, two carpet-covered towers with scratching posts, and four litter boxes.

  Oh, and a sink.

  Emery pointed at the porcelain pedestal sink with a confused look on his face. “Why is there a sink bolted to the wall?” He bent down to look under it, and I took the opportunity to check out his amazing ass. “There’s no running water in here.”

  My eyes snapped up to his face when he stood. “Right. Remember how I told you Carol is the most annoying cat in the world? Well, she’ll only sleep in the sink. I had to put one in here so I could use the one in the bathroom.”

  “That’s an interesting quirk.” Emery walked by me and sniffed. I tried to ignore the adorable wrinkles on the bridge of his nose—I really did—but he was so fucking cute. “You’ve got a pisser,” he stated bluntly. “That ammonia smell is really strong in here.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed because it’d been a source of frustration for months. “Someone is peeing outside of the boxes, but I can’t figure out who’s doing it.”

  “It could be a behavioral issue,” Emery supplied. “The other possibility is a urinary tract infection. How many litter boxes do you have in the apartment?”

  “Ten in total. There are five more in the living room and one in the bathroom. My bedroom is off-limits to the cats. I need to have my own space, and they all sleep in here at night anyway.”

  “That’s understandable, especially with Greg’s hair-chewing habits.”

  Emery took me by surprise when he reached out to toy with the ends of my hair. I’d already had my fingers all up in his, so maybe the hair touching was a thing now.

  But the way he looked at me was… affectionate.

  I felt my face heat again. We were stuck in another one of those moments—the second one of the day already—where an invisible connection sizzled between us. Only this time, we were being filmed.

  Clearing his throat, Emery let his arm fall awkwardly to his side.

  “Okay, so what we’ll do today is start an isolation process.” He turned to Steve, who seemed very bored out in the hallway. “Can someone get me a crystal box?” Then his eyes swung my way again. “Will any of the cats be opposed to staying in the bathroom overnight?”

  I anxiously chewed my lip. “Only Marcia and Jan. But as long as they stay together, they’ll be fine.”

  He nodded. “We can keep them together. That’ll rule out two cats at once, so that’s good.”

  “I’m sorry, can you explain what a crystal box is?”

  “It’s just a litter box with non-absorbent litter. We’ll be able to take urine samples and test them for a UTI.” He wrote something down before sticking the notepad in his back pocket. “Now, tomorrow we’re going to start bringing in possible adoptees.”

  “Already? Wow…”

  “And we’ll probably need to do a light sedative for Peter when we have visitors. We don’t want him scaring people off or injuring anyone.”

  “Like, drugs?” I asked, slightly alarmed.

  “I’ll do a natural approach first.” Emery must have been able to read the panic on my face because he looked concerned. “Are you okay?”

  “Everything’s just moving so fast.” I didn’t even realize I was wringing my hands until Emery put his big palm over them, but as soon as he did, I was effectively distracted from my anxiety.

  His skin was warm and rough, just like a man’s hands should be.

  Why did he have to keep touching me? If he kept this up, I’d be in serious danger of literally throwing myself at him.

  “Estelle,” he said low. Placing a hand at the small of my back, he steered me out into the hall away from the cameras. He leaned in close. “We’re very good at what we do. The process might feel rushed at times, but all the cats will find good homes. I promise you that.”

  I believed him. This was a man who kept his promises, I could tell. My mom had always told me I was an impeccable judge of character.

  But why did he smell so good? And why did he have to be so hot? Literally hot. I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

  Between Emery’s intoxicating scent and the close proximity of our bodies, I was having trouble forming a complete thought.

  Giving him a small smile, I just said, “Okay.”

  Like a total airhead.

  He returned my smile, flashing those straight white teeth before stepping back. “Do you want to meet with Janice? Not because you’re crazy, but just because?”

  “It couldn’t hurt.” I shrugged. “I think everyone needs counseling.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure she’d like to feel useful. I think she’s mad at me for dragging her all the way to South Carolina for nothing.”

  “I’ll even act like a nutcase just to make her feel like her time is worthwhile,” I joked.

  Apparently, I didn’t have to try very hard to act like a nutcase. All Janice had to do was ask me how I felt about going from nine cats to two,
in less than three weeks, and I lost it.

  I blew my nose into the tissue she handed me. “They were there for me during a time when I really needed them. They’re my friends, you know? That sounds weird, but it’s true.”

  “It’s not weird at all. Pets become our companions, especially when we live alone.”

  “I’ll still have Alice and Bobby.” Silently willing the tears away, I picked at a loose thread on my shirt. “But the apartment will feel so empty.”

  “What about your social life? Maybe you could spend more time with friends,” she suggested.

  I nodded, although I was unsure about that.

  The cats had basically taken over every aspect of my life. If I wasn’t at work, I was home taking care of them. I saw Julia at the shop, but we weren’t really friends. Everyone I knew from college lived too far away for frequent visits.

  “To be honest, I’ve never been very good at having friends,” I divulged, relaxing in the chair as I went full-on patient mode. We’d chosen to have our session in an alcove at the end of the apartment complex hallway, and the two plush armchairs presented the perfect setup. “I’ve struggled with fitting in for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, I got left out a lot. Some of my classmates told me their parents didn’t want me at their birthday parties or sleepovers because I was too wild.”

  “Children can be harsh. Parents too, unfortunately. What do you think they meant by ‘wild?’”

  “I was just really creative, and I had a lot of ideas. Sometimes those ideas got messy. Like when I was six, I thought raiding the refrigerator meant you stole everything out of it.” I laughed at the memory I was about to share. “So one time at a sleepover, I convinced my friend to help me get all the items from the fridge and hide them in her bed. Stuff got everywhere. I’m pretty sure the pancake syrup ruined her mattress. All the food went bad because it’d been sitting out all night. Needless to say, I wasn’t invited back.”

  Janice chuckled. “That sounds like normal childhood mischief to me.”

  My smile faded. “Where I grew up, appearances and manners are everything. My parents are great people, but they just didn’t know what to do with a wild child like me.”

  “And what about romantic relationships?” she asked, switching topics. “I understand you had a bad breakup about a year ago.”

  “It wasn’t a bad breakup. Just unexpected.” I tried to think about how to explain that my ex and I were never right for each other. I decided to start at the beginning. “I had a rebellious streak in high school, but I calmed down once I got to college. I met Brian my freshman year and he was everything I thought I needed. You know, studious and stable. And I tried to be what he wanted.” I sighed. “My mom really loved him. After he left, you would’ve thought someone died the way she cried for days.”

  “What did your parents like most about him?”

  “They thought he ‘stabilized’ me,” I replied, using air quotes.

  “And did he?”

  “Yes. A little too much, I guess. He stifled me—my quirks, my creativity, my independence. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he broke things off. He disapproved of everything I did, from the nail polish I wore to my plan of running the costume shop.”

  “And how did that make you feel?”

  “It sucked ass. No one wants to feel like they’re constantly being judged by the person who’s supposed to love them unconditionally.”

  “What a douche,” she deadpanned, and I laughed.

  I had a feeling we were going to get along just fine.

  “I might not be a hoarder, but I can see why someone would collect pets and never want to let them go.”

  “Oh, really?” Janice’s eyes sparked with interest. “Now you’re speaking my language. Tell me about that.”

  I smiled. “The best thing about animals? If I want to walk around the apartment naked, they don’t bat an eye. If I want a bowl of ice cream for breakfast, they want to share it with me.”

  “And do you eat ice cream for breakfast?”

  “Well, yeah.” I laughed. “Isn’t that the best part about being an adult? You can do whatever you want, within reason. After my ex and I broke up, I made a promise to myself that I would never try to change for someone ever again. This might sound heartless, but when that door shut behind him, the strongest emotion I felt was relief.”

  “Did you argue often?”

  “Not really. He just used to make this face a lot.” I pursed my lips, puffed out my cheeks, and furrowed my eyebrows. I didn’t have to look in the mirror to know I resembled the love-child of a monkey and a blowfish. “That was his displeased face. But that wasn’t the worst part.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what was.” Janice chuckled.

  “Things were just very… comfortable in our relationship.”

  “Comfortable?”

  “Boring,” I clarified, huffing out a laugh. “He was a total bore, okay?”

  “Are you talking about your sex life?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Let’s just say I’ve been DIY-ing it for a looong time.”

  “Ah. Well, nothing wrong with that.” Fiddling with the top button of her blouse, Janice looked uncomfortable, and I was reminded that sometimes my bluntness caught people off guard.

  “Are you blushing, Janice?” I teased. “Surely you’ve had people talk about this before.”

  She snickered. “I told you I specialize in hoarding tendencies. I’m not a sex therapist. Now, if you’re hoarding sex toys, then we can talk.”

  Holding up my hands, I laughed. “I only have one, I swear.”

  A quiet knock drew my attention, and Emery poked his head around the corner. “Sorry to interrupt. Steve wants to get another interview before we pack it in for the day.”

  Janice glanced at her watch. “Our time is just about over anyway. Estelle, would you like to meet again tomorrow?”

  I grinned. “I would love that.”

  Much to my relief, Emery conducted the evening interview instead of Steve. We did a basic recap of the day, where I got to voice my thoughts about how much progress we’d already made.

  My overall feelings? Everything was moving so fast. It was great, but my mind was having trouble keeping up with the changes.

  Then I watched in fascination as Emery did a quick exam for each of the cats on my kitchen table—except Peter. He listened to their hearts, checked their teeth, and felt their lymph nodes. They hadn’t been to the vet in a few months, but all of them were up to date with their shots and spayed or neutered.

  After it was over, my apartment quickly cleared out until it was just Emery and me. And the cats, of course.

  Marcia, Jan, and Bobby circled my ankles, alerting me that it was mealtime. God forbid I be fifteen minutes late on serving their dinner.

  Opening the bottom cupboard, I got out nine name-plated bowls and the large food container.

  “Can I help with anything?” Emery offered.

  I glanced down at my arm full of bowls, then lined them up on the table. Doling out two scoops of kibble, I handed him the ones belonging to Marcia and Jan. “These go in the cat room.”

  As he carried the food, the hungry cats followed, weaving through his legs. I snorted out a laugh when they almost tripped him.

  When he came back, I’d already set most of the containers in their designated spots around the kitchen. I pointed at the last two on the table. “Cindy and Bobby eat by the balcony door.” Then I whispered, “They get an extra half-scoop, but it’s our secret.”

  Grinning, Emery took the bowls and both cats were hot on his heels.

  “Thank you for all your help today,” I said as the room filled with a chorus of crunching sounds from all the ravenous cats.

  “That’s what I’m here for. If you need me, day or night, I’ll be right outside in the RV. Just call this number.” Emery pulled out a business card. He crossed out the number on the front and scribbled one on the back along with something else. Holding
it up, he pointed at what he wrote. “Make sure you say this code phrase.”

  I read over the words and my eyes got wide. “Are you serious?”

  “Yep.”

  “You want me to say these exact words to you?” I squeaked.

  Seeming amused, he nodded. When he handed me the card, our fingers brushed, sending tingles up my arm. The sensation traveled through my chest until it settled in my stomach, morphing into a violent fluttering.

  I could’ve lied to myself some more. Could’ve blamed it on nausea from the so-called virus.

  But I had to face facts—it wasn’t a virus.

  It was unbridled sexual attraction. The feeling had grown throughout the day, and that wasn’t a good thing.

  I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to snap myself out of it. Attraction couldn’t happen.

  Not here. Not now. Not with him. I needed to reel that motherfucker in.

  I was a lot of things, but a celebrity groupie was not one of them.

  Of course, it didn’t help that Emery had basically just propositioned me for a booty call.

  I’d been out of the dating game for a long time, but I wasn’t too rusty to realize I was being hit up for a hookup. I mean, he gave me his personal number and basically asked me to talk dirty to him on the phone.

  Maybe I wasn’t so rusty after all.

  Score one for Estelle.

  For a split-second, I considered taking him up on his offer.

  No. That was a bad idea. I had too much class for that.

  Who was I kidding? No, I didn’t. But that didn’t mean I had to make an already-odd situation any weirder.

  Cats. Focus on the cats.

  Emery was typing out a text, and I zeroed in on his hands. Such long, masculine fingers. How was it possible for someone to have sexy knuckles?

  My sexual depravation bubbled to the surface. A steady throb started between my legs and I resisted the urge to fan myself. Rubbing my thighs together, I hoped my flustered state wasn’t too obvious.

  But Emery wasn’t paying attention.

  Putting his phone away, he seemed completely oblivious to my raging hormones as he had a powwow with Peter, who had jumped up onto the counter next to him.