by Inda Herwood
***
Waking up the next morning, I instantly feel the consequences of pushing myself too hard yesterday without having stretched first. It’s been a long time since I practiced my martial arts, especially on a man of Jagger’s size. Add on top of that the muscle damage I suffered as a child, which never fully healed, and it leaves me weaker than most. As much as I have tried to keep in shape over the years, I could never fully recover from the wounds I had collected. And with wanting to be an ER doctor, who’s always running here and there, it’s definitely something that is going to prove a challenge for me. But one I will gladly accept.
Taking a quick shower and regretfully having to put my dirty clothes back on, I decide to skip breakfast, instead giving my sister and brother-in law a quick hug and a thanks for letting me spend the night, and for letting Grim chill here while I’m at work, promising to pick her up afterwards. Atillia reminds me that I’m welcome to come over any time, and I’m grateful for the open invitation. Opening the front door, I find Kendall waiting for me with the car idling at the curb, having texted him to meet me here before I took my shower.
Hopping in, Ken asks me over his shoulder, “So, where to today, Miss?”
“Theodore Street, please.”
“You got it.”
Twenty minutes later we’re pulling up to a large white, concrete building, the sound of a variety of animals making a choir as they greet the car. It instantly puts a smile on my face.
“Thank you, Kendall,” I tell him as I open the door, stepping out. Turning back to look at him through the open driver’s side window, I say, “I’ll see you around four o’clock?”
“Sounds like a date.” He gives me a wink and a smile, pulling away and back onto the road.
Turning around to face the front of the building, I smile as I’m greeted with happy barks and meows.
Jagger
I don’t know anything about her, I realize as I step off the elevator onto my floor. I don’t know what she likes to eat, her favorite place to hang out, the kind of movies she watches. Literally nothing that would help me woo her. And then I wonder, is that how you get a girl? Honestly, I’ve never had an issue with attracting the opposite sex. Not to sound smug, but they usually came to me; all I had to do was give them a suggestive smile from across the room. Of course, that point in my life was years ago, and now, my skills are pretty rusty. But even if I still had my charm, this thing with the youngest Montae is completely new territory, one I have no idea how to navigate yet. And I just bet my father’s career on it.
I’m the definition of an idiot.
My frustration building as I think about what I’ve just gotten myself into, I don’t even notice Cindy as she steps out of her apartment, right into my path. Just when I’m about to run into her, I come to a stop, back up, and look down. Her contact blue eyes smile at me, lips perfectly glossed. It reminds me of how Cyvil wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, leaving her scars visible for all to see. That surprised me. Not only because I can’t remember the last time I saw a girl without her face made up, but because you would think of all people, she would be the most self-conscious about it. Apparently not.
“Hey, Jagger,” she says with a sly grin. “Coming from anywhere interesting?”
I shrug, wishing she would just walk past me instead of trying to flirt her way into a date every time we see each other. She’s been batting her eyes at me for months, flirting like it’s going out of style. And though it’s flattering, she’s not my type. Fake hair, fake smile, fake everything. Not for me. At least not anymore.
“Oh, just got attacked by my fiancée, nothing much.” I give her a coy smile to make it seem like I’m joking without having to tell a lie. It works.
She gives me an odd look before giggling enthusiastically, like it’s the funniest thing in the world. With a light swat at my shoulder, she says, “You’re always so sarcastic. I wonder how any girl can stand you.”
“And somehow they do. Goodnight, Cindy.” Walking past her, I don’t miss the disappointed look in her eyes, the slump of her shoulders at losing my attention. I’m sure this will only improve her resolve for next time.
Heaven help me.
Stepping into my apartment, I head straight for the bathroom, rifling through the cupboard above the sink, looking for Band-Aids. Though the cut Cyvil made wasn’t deep by any means, I still don’t want people to see it, to ask questions. Finding the box, I take one out, put it on, and wonder again why I’m doing this. This girl actually slit my throat, and I’m trying to get her to marry me. To attach her life to mine, and mine to hers. For the first time in my life I’m going to have to try to win someone over, and with a girl who hates my guts, no less. It feels like a monumental task.
Walking back out into the kitchen, I spot the file about my fiancée sitting on the counter, as unthreatening as anything could be. But the contents contain an entirely different story. And tonight, it’s going to be my homework.
When I first looked through it after my father gave it to me, I only gave it a cursory glance, picking up lines here and there. At the time, I wasn’t thinking I needed to know her life story. I thought she would already be onboard with the plan and I wouldn’t have to work too hard to get her to like me. But that was then, and this is now.
Looking down the first page, I read every line, absorb every detail this time, leaving nothing untouched. My eyes latch onto the fact that she graduated from the Mason School for Science with honors and a 4.0 grade average. She’s fluent in three languages, aside from English. She has a black belt in karate, which doesn’t surprise me, considering I got firsthand experience of it tonight. And she has one other sibling, an elder sister who is married to Quincy Devoux, owner of Devoux Techware. Now that bit of information makes me look twice. It’s the quickest growing stock in America at the moment.
The more I read, the more impressed I become. She’s quite the accomplished individual on paper. Doesn’t have a stain on her record, she volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time, and works as a medical assistant at St. Josephs. Impressive. The only thing is I don’t see anything other than her school, extracurriculars, and work records. Nothing on her hobbies, plans for the future, friends – basically anything that’s personal to her. I can’t use any of this to my advantage. Which means I’m pretty much back to square one again.
…Or am I?
Going back to the part where it mentioned her volunteering at the animal shelter, an idea slowly starts to form.
Cyvil
Walking inside, I’m greeted with the smell of animals – a tangle of cat urine and dog breath. And though it’s nauseating for some, it has slowly become my favorite smell. Because it means that the best part of my day is about to begin.
And what could possibly ruin that?
Maybe having Jagger Wells sitting on the bench next to the front desk, looking completely out of place with a kitten on his lap. That’s what. Getting over the shock of seeing him here, I then marvel at how he has his hands slightly in the air, like he’s afraid to touch the harmless kitty. It stares up at him with big blue eyes, purring as it sits there, observing him.
At hearing the bell above the door chime, his head whips in my direction, hitting me with those gray eyes.
There are a lot of things I could ask right now: Did my father send you? Can you not get a clue? Why are you holding a cat in your lap? But the one that decides to pop out of my mouth?
“Are you stalking me?”
So, not the most eloquent thing to say, or polite, but it was my foremost question. And a pretty legitimate one if you ask me, given our brief but terrible history.
The kitten jumps off his lap, sashaying its way over to me. Bending down, I pick up the fur ball, cradling her in my hands. She snuggles against my chest like it’s home.
He stands up, my memory forgetting how tall he is. I was distracted last night, too focused on yelling at my father to properly take him in. But in the light of day, his details are
even more attractive, if that were possible. He wears a dark gray shirt under his motorcycle jacket, a pair of Levi’s fitting perfectly to his legs. His hair is a mess on his head, raven strands curling around his ears and forehead. I’m used to teenage boys, the ones that are kind of scrawny in that weird in-between stage of a child and a man. But Jagger…Jagger is all man.
I swallow. Hard.
“No. Not stalking,” he says, trying to sound lighthearted, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. He’s unsure about being here, I can tell.
“Then how did you find me?” And more importantly, why?
“I did a little digging. Is there anything wrong with that?” His hands are in his pockets, looking like the picture of ease when Sue walks in, my boss and also the sweetest granny you’ll ever meet. Always dressed in some kind of ugly crocheted vest and a turtleneck, she’s the most unassuming person you’ll ever meet. But under it all she’s a complete flirt, the worst I’ve ever seen. When she spots me near the door with the specimen that is Jagger, she gives me a naughty wink and a thumbs up behind his back.
I should have known the cougar would betray me for a guy with a nice ass.
“Depends on what you found,” I say in response, just as Sue walks around the counter, an unnaturally large smile coming to her lips.
“So, you found her,” she says to Jagger, her voice too chipper for the scowl I’m aiming at her.
“Yes, I did.” He’s back to staring at me, the effort he’s putting into not looking at my scars almost amusing. Almost.
“Sue, why is he here?” I ask her, my voice sounding tight. No one knows about the ultimatum outside my family. Meaning I can’t really be mad at her for not knowing who he is, or how awkward a situation I’m in right now, but still. Some guy comes in here asking for me, and because he has a pretty face she doesn’t ask questions?
“Jagger here came in this morning asking when you’d be in. I said he was free to wait until you got here.” Her face is totally innocent, but her blue eyes sparkle. She’s loving this right now. Probably because she’s been telling me for years it would be a good thing if I found a man. And then Jagger walks in, asking for me, and she must have thought her prayers were answered.
Yeah, they were answered alright.
By Satan.
“And so you handed him a kitten to pass the time?” I nod down at the orange long hair who is now asleep in my hands.
She shrugs. “Who doesn’t like to hold kittens?”
By the look on Jagger’s face, I’d say him.
Shaking my head, I hand Ginger the kitten to Sue, saying, “Mind giving us a minute? I’ll go feed the dogs when we’re done.”
Giving me a disappointed pout of her lips, she says grudgingly, “Alright. But I want every detail, girly.” She waggles those gray brows at me, causing Jagger to snicker since he was close enough to hear her ridiculously loud whispering.
Ugh.
Sue leaves the room, the sound of barks and meows filling the air as Jagger and I stare at each other, silent. I start to say, “Did my dad put you up to this?” the moment he says, “I wanted to explain myself after last night.”
Silence again.
I take a deep breath, feeling a headache coming on. “Look, Jagger, I’m sorry about what happened.” My eyes go to the small band-aid on his neck, making me feel another wave of guilt. “But I’m not changing my mind. And whatever it is my father promised you –”
“Whoa, slow down,” he says as he takes another step towards me, hands raised in surrender. “Your father didn’t send me, and this isn’t another marriage proposal. I just wanted to come by and apologize for scaring you last night. I picked your parents up at the airport, came to your house, and was told to wait in the guest house until you got home. It wasn’t my intention to come off as creepy. That’s all I wanted to tell you.”
“And you had to do it in person?” My mother must have told him where I was, I realize. That’s the only way he could have known. And I bet she was the one who suggested he come here himself instead of using a perfectly good phone.
“I don’t like texting or phone calls. Not for something like this.” Another step closer.
I nod. “Apology accepted. Is that all?” Please say it is, please go away, please don’t make me look at your gorgeous face for two more seconds, please…
He doesn’t answer. Instead his eyes do a sweep of the small waiting room, asking, “How long have you worked here?”
“I’m just a volunteer.”
This makes him smirk. “Okay then, how long have you volunteered here?”
There is no reason for him to be asking me questions. There’s no reason for him to be here in the first place. After last night, I figured I had sufficiently ended this deal with him. But somehow, he’s back, making me tell him about my life.
He must really need that check.
“A while,” I answer vaguely.
He tilts his head at me. “Not much of a sharer, are you?”
Good, he’s catching on. “No, I’m not.”
I swear I hear him utter something along the lines of This is going to be harder than I thought, under his breath, making me ask, eyes narrowed, “What did you say?”
“Where do you keep the dogs?”
Yeah, that is so not what he said.
“In kennels. Why aren’t you leaving?” He’s making me uncomfortable now. The loitering and dodging questions about his presence doesn’t settle well with me.
“Because I was promised a tour.” He rolls back on his heels, a smile plastered on his face as he says this. It still looks forced.
“I never did such a thing.”
“But Sue did.”
“Then she can do it. I have work to do.”
Officially done with this conversation, I turn my back on him and open the door Sue escaped through earlier, walking into the area where we keep the kennels along with the cat room. Moving to the left, I open the storage closet, shaking my head in disbelief as I pick up the food bowl tower on the floor, placing it on the counter. Next to the cabinets is the dog food, stored in a large metal garbage can, a giant scoop hidden inside. I begin giving each bowl its correct portion, continuing to be baffled over Jagger Wells’ presence in my safe haven. Now every time I come in for my shift, I’m going to be on pins and needles, wondering if he’s going to be lurking inside. I can only hope this was a bizarre, one-time thing.
“What are you doing?” His smooth voice comes from behind me, making me jump, spilling kibble all over the counter.
“What are you still doing here?” I grumble, beginning to pick up handfuls of spilled food. “You can’t be back here. It’s employees only.”
“But you said you’re a volunteer?”
You know what? I take it back. I should have killed him in my living room when I had the chance.
Spinning around to face him, I’m not prepared for how close he is. Close enough that my nose almost gets smashed against his chest. I stumble back into the counter, the room feeling too small, claustrophobic.
“Need help?” he asks, unaffected by it all.
“No.”
“You sure? That’s a lot of bowls.”
“Jagger.”
“Yes?”
“Please leave.”
He tilts his head to the side again, dark eyes narrowed in confusion. He actually seems mystified that someone of the opposite sex is annoyed by his presence. Maybe if he stood there and didn’t talk I wouldn’t mind, but… No. I’d still be annoyed.
“What?” he says, looking a little less confident now.
“You heard me. This is my happy time, and no offense, but I don’t need reminded of my screwed-up life by having you hang around me all day.” I grab as many bowls as I can carry and push past him out into the hall lining the kennels. One by one I shove the bowls through the slots, saying hello to each of my charges, giving them a scratch on the ear through the feeding doors. It gives me a small amount of peace.
But
then I feel his presence behind me again, and it disappears just like that.
“Your happy time consists of hanging around drooling dogs, and cats that would rather bite you than be pet?” His tone lets me know he thinks I’m a lunatic.
Whatever.
Done feeding the dogs, I open another door at the end of the hall and walk into the cat room, not looking to see if he follows. Just like the name suggests, it’s a large room filled with cats. There are climbing trees and scratch posts, toy mice and laser pointers for playing. For the dogs we have a giant fenced in area out back with similar, fun activities to drain some of their pent-up energy. Most days I spend hours just playing with them, giving them the kind of love and attention they all deserve. That’s why it’s the best part of my day. Because I’m surrounded by creatures who love me for me. They don’t look at my scars, laugh at them, cringe at them, or say rude things about them. Animals don’t notice when you’re different. They just love you because you show them love back. They’re simple, uncomplicated. Two of my favorite things.
As soon as I walk in, I see Hanna sitting on one of the chairs, playing with a kitten named Carlos. Her head pops up at hearing me enter, greeting me with a smile before her eyes catch onto my new parasite that is probably right behind me.
Hanna is a nice girl, a few years older than myself and a fellow volunteer. She’s studying to become a vet, and her schooling comes in handy here quite often. She’s one of the few people I can call a friend. Other than Traitor Sue, that is.
“So, who’s the new recruit?” she asks with a too happy grin, still looking at him while a chorus of meows fills the air, making me smile as each of the fifteen cats we have pool at my feet, looking up at me with big eyes and eager tails. They know who feeds them.
Walking over to the feed bin, my parade of cats following me, I open up the cabinet and take out their food. With a huff, I say, “He’s not a new volunteer.” Just like with the dogs, I fill bowls, dispose of them in the feeding corner, and go about cleaning and refilling water bowls while the cats have their breakfast. Hanna is in charge of cleaning the litter boxes and putting away the toys. We all have a schedule we follow, making it even.