Chapter 5 Rhett
FIVE
RHETT
The cat was fine. It made me carry it from the truck to the vet’s table and then showed off a completely uninjured paw before turning to head-butt me in the stomach. I could’ve sworn it looked smug when the veterinarian proclaimed it hale and hearty.
“He’s not microchipped,” Erin, the vet, told me, “so you’re free to take him home.”
“I’m not taking him home,” I replied, emphatic.
Erin stared at me with big brown eyes. Her thick brows arched in concern. “You’re not?”
“Put him up for adoption.”
She blinked at me, then at the cat. “But…”
“I don’t want a cat,” I insisted. “I’m not a cat guy.”
The last thing I needed was a pet who thought he knew better than I did. I scowled at the cat, who stretched out on the stainless steel table and yawned so big I could count all his teeth. Thought I wasn’t a good hunter, did he? Thought I couldn’t feed myself? The cat was a little know-it-all.
Erin swallowed, nodding. “Right. But can I just show you something real quick?”
“I really have to get back to work,” I said. “Can’t you just put him up on social media and let someone else adopt him?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Sure. But look.” She picked the cat up and scratched the back of his neck. The cat stayed in her arms, tilting its head toward her.
“You’re petting the cat,” I noted, mentally checking out. I had to get back to work. Had to get back to the office and tell Piper that this whole rigamarole had been a big waste of time. The cat was a con artist.
“Right,” Erin replied. “Here.”
She dumped the cat against my chest, and I barely had time to lift my arms to catch the animal. Instead of sitting quietly the way he’d done in the vet’s arms, the cat flopped across my forearms and started rumbling. His pale belly rolled up toward me as he went fully limp in my arms.
I frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”
Erin smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with him,” she said. “He loves you, is all.”
I jerked back, angling my body to dump the cat back on the table. But he lifted his head and batted at me slightly, green eyes blinking before he flopped back to present his belly. “He doesn’t love me. He’s a cat.”
“He’s chosen you.” Erin beamed at me. “It’s a compliment.”
“He leaves dead roaches and mice all over the place.”
“Aww,” she said, smile widening. “That’s sweet.”
I felt like my head was about to explode.
Erin reached over and gave him another scratch, then bustled over to the side of the room.
“We’ve got a brochure with a list of basics you’ll need for your house.
I can get you started with a small bag of cat food, and I’ll give Jed at the pet store a call to let him know you’re on the way. ”
“What?”
“I know you’re busy,” Erin explained. “Jed will put everything together and you’ll just have to go pick it up.”
“Pick what up?” The cat started purring again, and I could feel the vibrations traveling through my forearms. Despite myself, my fingers curled into his fur, and I couldn’t quite stop myself from stroking the softness.
“Kitty litter, more food, probably a few toys. You got room for a cat tree? You’re over on Mountainview Drive, aren’t you?” Erin picked the phone up. “Hi, Jed. It’s Erin. Good, good! Rhett Baldwin’s been adopted by a cat.” She smiled at me. “I know. They’ve really bonded. It’s cute.”
“Cute?” I repeated, my temperature inching up. “Bonded?”
“The full shebang,” she said to Jed. “He hasn’t got any pets, so he’ll need everything.
All righty! He’ll be right over.” Erin hung up and turned to face me, cherub cheeks pink as she smiled even wider.
“That’s all settled,” she said. “If you need anything, you come back and let me know. I’m really happy for you, Rhett.
That ginger is going to bring you a lot of joy.
And you know, you can tell a lot about a person based on how animals react to them.
So now we know you’re one of the good ones. ”
“You didn’t know that before?”
She winked. “It’s good to have confirmation. I’ll see you in a few weeks for your next round of shots!”
I looked down at the cat and frowned. I don’t want you, I said to it in my head.
But handing the cat back at that moment would’ve been social suicide.
I’d worked hard to build my reputation in this town, to change what the name Baldwin meant around here.
It had meant crafting a mask for myself, making sure that people saw what I wanted them to see.
Yes, I’d made money. Yes, I cared about my business—but I gave back.
I donated generously. I made sure to listen to the people of this town when I proposed new developments.
It wasn’t fake, exactly, it was just that I’d wanted to erase everything that came before.
I wanted the Rhett Baldwin of today to completely erase the young Rhett Baldwin who’d been vulnerable and knocked around by the people who were meant to care for him most. I wasn’t the angry young teenager who got in trouble, who ran away from home, who finally got sick of explaining bruises and black eyes, who stood up to the old man who didn’t think twice about hitting his wife and child.
That person was gone. I was someone different now, and I didn’t want anyone to even whisper about myself and my father in the same breath.
I’d built up my social capital over my entire adult life.
I’d created an image—not a fake one, but not an entirely real one, either—and I relied on that image to get things done.
The mask fit, even though sometimes it didn’t feel exactly genuine.
It was the reason that the small amount of dissent about the refurbishment of the ski resort had been quickly squashed, and why the projects with my name on them usually got pushed through.
If I left the cat here, would that mask be ripped away? Would people see everything that I wanted to leave hidden?
Maybe this was exactly what I deserved after the altercation at the coffee shop this morning.
I’d loved the realization flashing in Piper’s eyes when she’d refused to buy the raffle ticket.
I’d loved making her squirm by pointing out that we cared about community in this town.
I liked pushing her around using nothing but my reputation and the pressure of my fellow townspeople.
Now the shoe was on the other foot. And the cat was in my arms.
“I guess you’re coming home with me, cat,” I said, and Erin beamed. It took all my effort to paint a smile on my face, the smile I always showed the world. Erin’s eyes crinkled; she couldn’t tell how difficult it was for me to keep up the charade.
“What’s his name?” she asked, following me out to the front of the office.
The cat meowed. I frowned. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll need something for the paperwork,” she said.
“Just put ‘cat.’”
“You’re naming your cat ‘Cat’?” Her glowing smile dimmed somewhat.
“I—” I paused. I’d never named anything before. “Do I have to come up with something right now?”
She grinned. “Of course not! I’ll just put your name down, and we can update it when you come back for his next round of shots. Bye-bye, handsome!”
“You should say bye to him too,” I joked, winking as I lifted the cat. My mask was firmly back in place.
Erin laughed, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes fondly. “Oh, Rhett,” she said. “You’re somethin’ else! See you soon!”
I put on another smile, still holding the floppy, purring creature cradled against my chest. Then I pushed my way out of the vet’s office.
A gust of icy wind blew against me, and I found myself turning to shield the orange cat from the worst of it.
He tucked his head against me and didn’t even thank me for my efforts.
Sighing, I dumped him in the passenger seat and got behind the wheel. After a moment’s hesitation, I turned on the passenger-seat warmer. “If you tell anyone about this, you’re going up for adoption,” I grumbled.
No reply came. The cat was asleep. With nothing else to do, I put the truck in gear and headed toward the pet shop where Jed was waiting with all my new supplies.
I left the cat in a room at my house with all the trappings that Jed insisted I needed. I made sure to tell the cat not to make himself too comfortable, because despite what Erin and Jed thought, he wasn’t going to stay. As soon as I figured out what to do with him, he’d be gone.
With one green-eyed blink, the cat stared me down, then slinked away to explore the room.
On the drive back to work, I drummed my hand on the steering wheel and pretended I couldn’t still smell the wisps of Piper’s perfume in the cab of my truck. Her eyes reminded me of the cat’s—they saw too much. Grinding my teeth, I considered the problem she posed.
Would she be able to unravel the reputation I’d worked so hard to build?
How easily could she do it? She was right about one thing: I needed her to do her job to get the lodge open.
We could get the job done based on the design files the previous firm had given us, but there were a thousand tiny decisions that a designer’s eye would know how to manage that the rest of the team just couldn’t.
And if I was putting my name on the resort, then it had to be perfect.
You didn’t build a sterling reputation by producing shoddy work.
I couldn’t get rid of Piper, but I couldn’t afford for her to stay on for the long term.
She made it hard to keep up the good-guy persona that had become almost comfortable to me—and if it came off, my entire world would crumble.
Everyone who praised me for donating time and money to countless community endeavors would shake their heads and remember that I was a broken kid from a broken home, and was it really a surprise that I turned out to be a broken man?
Piper already saw it. I had to get rid of her as soon as possible.
I couldn’t fire her if she did a good job, and I definitely couldn’t do it when it would expose me for the ruthless, heartless prick I was. Firing a single mom who’d worked hard to get a tough project done on time wouldn’t go down well with the townsfolk, no matter how well they thought of me now.
But keeping her on was just as dangerous.
She needled me, stood up to me, made me feel like I was close to cracking with little more than a slow blink of those big doe eyes.
She had the potential to undo all my hard work.
All the hours I’d poured into my business and reputation, she could demolish with a swish of those generous hips.
I pulled up outside the office and stared up at the windows on the second floor. She was in there somewhere, charming the team, pretending she wasn’t as ruthless as I was.
And I knew I had no choice. I had to make it unbearable for her to stay on the team. I had to make it so she chose to leave when the job was done. That way my reputation would be intact and safe from her all-too-perceptive eyes.
The truck door slammed behind me as I stalked toward the front door.
One of the few things I was grateful for about my upbringing was that I’d never shied away from a fight. And I wasn’t going to start now.