Like Cats and Dogs

by Kate McMurray

  Head back to Whitman Street for more romance and animal hijinks in Book Two of the Whitman Street Cat Café series

  Coming soon from Sourcebooks Casablanca

  Chapter 1

  Landing a job at a high-powered corporate law firm was not all it was cracked up to be.

  At eight o’clock, Mr. Provost’s paralegal carried a stack of files into Josh Harlow’s office. Josh glanced outside. He had an office, at least. The internship he’d finished at Davis, Cash, and Lee the summer between his second and third years had ensured that he’d be offered a good job at a great salary upon graduating from law school and passing the Bar, which he’d done last summer. Josh certainly couldn’t complain on that front; his salary was adding a lot of padding to his bank account right now. Unfortunately, he never got to spend any of it because he spent every waking hour at this very desk.

  “Mr. Provost wants a summary of the Donaldson depositions before he has to be in court at ten on Thursday.”

  “Yeah, no problem. I’ll just squeeze that in between the Appleton case and the O’Dwyer paperwork.”

  The paralegal winced and left the office.

  Josh sighed and gazed out the window. His office faced Sixth Avenue, about three blocks south of Rockefeller Center. He could see roving bands of tourists walking up and down the street, the lights on the signs of the bodegas and souvenir stores and clothing shops and grab-and-go lunch spots across the street. He’d been so absorbed in what he’d been working on that day that he hadn’t noticed the sun setting.

  New York City had a lot of lawyers, but it also had a lot of ex-lawyers, and Josh was starting to understand why.

  When he finally left the office close to midnight, he took advantage of the company car service account and got a ride home. His apartment was in a massive high rise in downtown Brooklyn, and given that he’d started work at DCL about a week after he’d moved to the city, he hadn’t had time to decorate or, well, furnish the apartment yet, despite living there for almost six months. The bed, the old sofa, and the kitchen stuff had come from his apartment in Georgetown, but most of his books were still in boxes, his refrigerator was empty except for energy drinks and an expired bottle of milk, and the desk he intended to set up was still packed in a long, slim box, waiting to be assembled.

  On the way into the building, he stopped to say hello to Bill, the doorman. He’d picked this building because it was about eight blocks down Whitman Street from the cat café where his sister worked and had an upstairs apartment. When he’d signed the lease, he had a vision of popping down there on weekends to say hi and hang out. He spent his weekends now mostly sleeping or working.

  Something had to give. Josh was fucking tired.

  As he brushed his teeth, he thought idly about Megan and what she might be up to now. Was she just as busy at her new firm in Chicago? Although he still felt a pang in his chest whenever he thought of her, maybe it was just as well that they’d broken up. Working a schedule like this, he’d never see her anyway.

  He finished the summary of the Donaldson deposition and brought it to Greg Provost the next morning. Provost was a bit of a snake, but he was a partner in the firm, a widely respected attorney, and Josh’s boss. He spent the bulk of his time defending the firm’s corporate clients against accusations of fraud and other financial crimes. Since Josh had spent the better part of the last twelve hours reading through depositions, he felt confident concluding that the fraud charge in this particular case was bullshit. So he handed over the summary and was getting ready to leave again when Provost gestured toward an empty chair and said, “Have a seat.”

  Provost had a corner office on the fifty-fourth story of the sleek high-rise the law firm occupied. He wore expensive suits and worked reasonable hours and Josh had to remind himself that paying his dues now was how he himself would eventually get to this place. He took a deep breath and waited for Provost to speak. Provost asked for an assessment of what he’d put together, so Josh gave him the bottom line.

  Provost smiled. “Good work. I had a hunch, but I’m glad the rest of the evidence bears that out. Hopefully this stays out of court.” Provost set Josh’s summary aside. “You got that done rather quickly. I just gave that to Allison last night.”

  “I worked quite late.”

  “And I appreciate that. You show a lot of promise, Mr. Harlow. I want to give you some additional help on the Appleton case. Let’s get another associate on it and a couple of paralegals. Would that help?”

  “Yes, sir. That would be a huge help.”

  “Great. Hopefully that will free up time for one of the firm’s other initiatives.”

  Oh, great. Just when Josh could almost taste free time, Provost was going to pull him into something else. He knew he had no right to complain; based on all the venting that went on in the private Facebook group for his law school class, his classmates were all going through the same thing right now. This was paying his dues and being rewarded handsomely for it. But at the same time…he missed sleep. And reading novels and watching garbage television and eating home cooked meals. He missed going for runs in the park and going on dates and having art on the walls of his apartment.

  “All right,” he said.

  “We at Davis, Cash, and Lee believe that giving back to the community is something every employee should be a part of. As such, we ask all of our associates to volunteer for something.”

  Right, of course. Someone had mentioned this to Josh when he interviewed for the job. The associates had to volunteer a set number of hours per quarter. Most of the partners just donated money to good causes, which could be translated into volunteer hours via some elaborate equation. Josh nodded to seem game.

  “I’m not picky about what you volunteer for, although my assistant Jane has a list she keeps of organizations we’ve done work for in the past if you want some suggestions. I only ask it be a long-term project and not just a charity event that takes place once a year.”

  “No problem. My sister works with a lot of animal shelters. She probably knows of some good volunteer opportunities.”

  The words were out of Josh’s mouth before he realized what he was saying, although it was true that his sister Lauren managed a cat café that did a lot of work with local animal shelters in Brooklyn. It was the path of least resistance—if he just asked Lauren, he could find a project easily and wouldn’t have to waste a lot of time researching it.

  “Splendid!” said Provost. “Jane’s got a form for you to fill out.”

  Josh arrived back at his own office fifteen minutes later with a form to fill out recording his volunteer hours. He added it to the mound of paper on his desk and wondered if all law firms killed this many trees.

  Chapter 2

  As Paige Danvers wiped down the tables after the Whitman Street Cat Café’s monthly book club meeting, she heard the bell ring. Startled, she dropped the cleaning cloth, and as she bent to pick it up, she heard her friend and boss Lauren, who’d been cleaning up front, hit the buzzer to let in whoever was at the door. Paige set the cloth aside and left the cat room to investigate.

  Mitch walked in. Mitch was an old friend of Lauren’s who ran an organization that captured and spayed feral cats.

  “Hi, sorry I’m so late,” he said to Lauren with a bashful nod toward Paige. Paige didn’t like to assume, but she was fairly certain Mitch had a crush on her. He was a nice enough guy, but a good fifteen years older than Paige and really not her type.

  “It’s fine, Paige and I were just cleaning up after book club. You have flyers for me?”

  “Yeah.” Mitch carried a medium-size box to the table closest to the counter and put it down. He opened it to show rows of brochures. “A buddy of mine just opened a copy shop in my neighborhood. He let me print these in color for free.”

  Lauren took one out and looked it over. “Wow, these are nice.”

  Sadie, the felin
e café manager, hopped up on the table and sniffed the box. Occasionally, Mitch brought by boxes that had cats or kittens in them, and Sadie was clearly deeply skeptical of this box.

  “Not everything needs to be inspected by you,” Lauren said.

  Sadie meowed in response.

  Paige walked over. “Are these for the next rescue night?”

  “Yes,” said Mitch. “We heard from the mayor’s office that there’s been something of a cat population explosion in certain Brooklyn neighborhoods, so we’re trying to hold these events more often. I updated the brochure to show we’re meeting every other week instead of once a month for now. Our next one is next Thursday. You should come.”

  It was an idle invitation, one Mitch made every time he saw her, but Paige had been meaning to say yes one of these days. As the cat café’s events manager, she’d made it a point to get to know all of the animal rescue organizations in the region, because many of them worked with the café to help cats find forever homes. Paige periodically volunteered at a no-kill shelter in Park Slope, but she hadn’t done a shift with Mitch’s group yet. She was free next Thursday—she was certainly done trying to fill her off hours by dating guys she had no future with—so maybe it was time.

  “If I decided to help out next week,” Paige said, “what would happen exactly? Because I’m a little worried about a feral cat scratching my eyes out.”

  Rather than laugh, which Paige had expected, Mitch nodded gravely. “These cats can be dangerous. Some are more skittish than aggressive, but some bite. All volunteers work in groups of two or three, and we recommend wearing long sleeves and pants, heavy clothing if possible. I know it’s summer, but better safe than sorry. We provide gloves and will do a workshop on how to trap the cats safely. We’re usually out there a couple of hours. Sound good?”

  “Yeah, that seems reasonable.” Still a little scary. The cats at the café could get hostile if they got riled up enough, and they were all tame, domesticated cats. Paige was a little afraid of the feral ones.

  “Cool. We meet in front of the Brooklyn Museum, on the Botanic Garden side. The regulars usually congregate near the subway entrance. Do you know it?”

  “Yes. Sounds good. I’ll try to make it next week. I’ve been meaning to, but schedule conflicts.” Paige shrugged in a “what can you do” way.

  “You should come too, Lauren,” said Mitch.

  “Not next week, unfortunately. Caleb has a few days off in a row, so we’re taking a little vacation. His cousin has a place upstate. We’re gonna bring the dog and savor the peace and quiet in the woods. I’ve been looking forward to this for a month, so I will not be canceling it. Sorry, Mitch.”

  “Hey, I get it. Spend quality time with your husband.” Mitch glanced at his watch. “I just wanted to drop these off. I didn’t mean to keep you from closing. I’ll get out of your hair. But I hope to see you next Thursday, Paige!”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”

  ***

  Josh could walk to Lauren’s place from his downtown Brooklyn high rise easily enough. So the first evening that he actually made it to Brooklyn in time for dinner, he’d texted Lauren, thinking he’d get a cup of coffee and pet some cats, and she invited him to dinner.

  Now he sat at a small table off the kitchen in Lauren and Caleb’s apartment, three people crammed onto a table that was really only big enough for two.

  “Good to see that law firm hasn’t killed you yet,” said Lauren’s husband, Caleb, as he poured wine for everyone.

  “It’s a near thing,” said Josh. “I still haven’t decorated my apartment. I miss sports. I miss reading novels and watching shitty television. I miss sex. And bless you for the home cooking, because I’ve been living off takeout, and it’s nice to eat something on a plate instead of out of a plastic container.” He surveyed his plate. A nicely seared steak was nestled next to a scoop of rice pilaf and a garlicky vegetable medley. “I didn’t know you could cook like this, Lauren.”

  “Caleb helped. And by helped, I mean he did most of it.”

  “One of our wedding gifts was a certificate for some cooking classes with a chef one of Lauren’s friends knows,” said Caleb. “Lauren was busy, so I took the classes.”

  “Well, that explains a lot.” Josh cut off a piece of steak. It melted on his tongue. “Man, that’s good. Money well spent on those classes.”

  Caleb chuckled. “Lauren cooked the rice.”

  “I boiled the water,” Lauren said.

  “You did it very well, honey,” said Caleb, reaching over to rub her arm.

  “Better than Mom,” said Josh.

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “That’s not saying much.” To Caleb, she added, “You’re still new to the family. Mom is not the best cook.”

  “The chicken she made the last time we visited was good,” said Caleb.

  “She’s not here,” said Josh. “You don’t have to be nice.”

  “Also, that totally came from a store,” said Lauren.

  “Ah, that checks out.” Josh ate a few more bites and said, “Well, anyway. How’s business?”

  “Good. Diane, the café’s owner, is still resisting my plan to hire our own pastry chef, and there’s some nonsense with the health department we still have to negotiate to do that, but I think if I find the right person, she’ll have to hire them.”

  “Fond as I am of cat hair in my pastries, that seems like something you should be careful about,” said Josh.

  “Yeah, yeah. I am very careful.”

  “What’s going on with the health department?”

  Lauren sighed. “New York has a bunch of rules about animals and food service. This slimy real estate developer guy who has been buying up buildings in the neighborhood tried to shut us down last year by ratting us out to the health department. We were in compliance, so nothing happened.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to lawyer me?”

  “Hey, I was just curious. Don’t you bring in all your food from outside vendors? Would hiring a pastry chef put you out of compliance?”

  “No. Not if we rearrange some things in the cat café. There’s a way to do it.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “We have our own lawyer, by the way.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  An alarm went off on Lauren’s phone. “Hang on, I gotta call Paige.”

  “Paige?” Josh asked.

  As Lauren held the phone to her ear, Caleb explained, “Lauren’s friend. She must have had a date tonight. This is the fake emergency call in case Paige needs to bail.”

  “Huh. I thought they only did that on TV.”

  “Paige doesn’t have…the best judgment. I don’t know if she only dates guys who are all wrong for her or if she hasn’t quite learned that men are not exactly at their most truthful when filling out their online dating profiles. Either way, she goes on a lot of bad dates.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Paige is great. One of the sweetest, nicest people you’ll ever meet. She was one of Lauren’s bridesmaids at the wedding, actually.”

  Josh frowned. He had missed the wedding and was still upset about it. He’d flown to Chicago two days before to interview at one of the big law firms there, figuring he and Megan could save their relationship if he moved with her, even though he had the job at DCL waiting for him in New York. Not only had he completely bombed in the interview and not gotten the job, but a massive storm had blown through the Midwest and grounded a bunch of flights, and Josh couldn’t get anywhere near the East Coast until the day after the wedding. So he’d missed his own sister’s wedding and had not gotten the job or the girl in the end.

  Caleb shrugged. “She’s smart and together most of the time. Just not when it comes to her love life.”

  Lauren put her phone on the table. “No fake emergency needed. He stood her up.”

 
“Wow,” said Caleb.

  Josh laughed, a little surprised at all this. He and Lauren had always been close, but many years of living in different cities meant they weren’t up to date with each other’s friends or personal lives. This was also quite different from life at the law firm, but in a refreshing way. Nice to talk about friends’ misguided dating decisions instead of depositions and briefs. “Anyway, you were saying about the pastry chef?”

  Lauren waved her hand. “It’s all boring work stuff. Not important. How’s the job going?”

  Josh would rather have gossiped about strangers than talk about work, but he said, “It’s pretty interesting. I just wish I didn’t keep getting stuck at the office after hours to get everything done. On the other hand, I just made a huge student loan payment. So, silver lining.”

  “Oof,” said Lauren.

  “But actually, there is something you can help me with. My boss is urging all the associates to do some kind of volunteer work, because DCL gives back to the community.” Josh added some sarcasm, which made Lauren chuckle. “You work with a lot of animal rescue organizations, right? Can you think of any opportunities?”

  Lauren nodded. “My friend Mitch runs an organization that traps, neuters, and returns feral cats. He’s doing an event next Thursday. He dropped off brochures at the café yesterday. I can email you the details.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “It can be, but he trains everyone before he puts them to work.”

  “Have you ever done it?”

  Lauren shook her head.

  “I did events like that a few times when I lived in Boston,” said Caleb. “A lot of it is just setting up traps and waiting around for the cats to walk into them.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound too hard.”

  “Then I’m one of the vets who actually neuters them and has to deal with them when they come out of anesthesia. So you have the easy job.”

  Caleb’s tone was light, but Josh took his point. “Fair enough.”