2. Piper
PIPER
“I’m sorry that we couldn’t find your cat.” Gideon leaned on the stone post at the end of the laneway. “Let me walk you home.”
“I am home.” I pointed to the lights that shone up the hill. “You’ve been out for two hours. You’ve done enough.”
He righted himself and crossed his arms. “What kind of man would let you walk up there by yourself?”
I grabbed him by the arms and turned him to face his house. “The kind that spent two hours helping me look for my lost cat. Go home and get some rest.” The little shove I gave caught him by surprise and sent him two steps in the right direction—away from my house.
“But—”
“It was nice to meet you, Gideon.” I turned and sprinted up the hill before he could protest. My breath was steady as I reached the stairway to the carriage house.
Ensuring that Gideon hadn’t followed me, I checked under the stairs for any sign of Pussy.
“Come on, Pussy-Cat. Olive is going to be so sad,” I whispered.
That damn name. I guess that’s what happens when you let your four-year-old name the cat.
Should I have explained to my hot new neighbor where the name had come from?
Probably. But there was a part of me that wanted a few more minutes with him before he completely wrote me off.
What was worse? Telling him that I named my cat Pussy or telling him that I had a five-year-old daughter?
It was my experience that hot guys like Gideon ran as cold as ice the minute they found out I was a mom.
So sue me if I wanted to wander around the neighborhood with a Grecian-looking god for an hour. I didn’t date, and he was so damn tall he could look for my kitty in places I could never see. My excuses for leaving out the daughter detail came hard and fast.
I went to the back door of the main house and rapped on the window with my knuckle.
Mrs. Lockelhurst opened the sliding door. “Did you find her?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Olive is going to be devastated if we don’t find her cat.”
“I’m sure she’ll turn up.” Mrs. Lockelhurst stepped aside.
“Olive woke up for a while, but fell asleep again watching Paw Patrol .” I followed the flowing hem of her silk housecoat as she led me to the living room.
My daughter was curled up under a chenille blanket, the blue and pink light from the dog characters flickering on her tiny face.
“She’s still sucking her thumb.” Mrs. Lockelhurst put her hands on her hips.
“Only in her sleep. I don’t know how to get into her subconscious to stop it.”
“Perhaps some hot sauce would help?”
I waited for her to crack a smile but realized she was serious.
Mrs. Lockelhurst had three grown children, and her grandchildren were entering their college years.
Nannies had raised both generations, so a hot sauce comment, or even one about whiskey in a bottle, didn’t surprise me.
But for someone who hadn’t raised her own kids, Mrs. L, as Olive called her, loved my daughter.
Scooping Olive up, I eased the wrinkled thumb from her mouth.
She smacked her full little lips, wriggled in the blanket, then nestled into my neck.
My heart ached with love for my daughter.
I would spend every extra second I had searching the neighborhood if it spared her the heartache of losing a pet.
Mrs. L scrolled on her phone for a minute before shoving the bright screen in my face.
“What is it?” I stepped back to see what was on the screen.
“It’s the animal shelter. Does this look like Pussy?” She enlarged the photo.
“No, that’s a male cat named Max.” I pointed to the information below the photo. “It says here that he’s microchipped.”
“That’s not what I was asking, dear.” Mrs. L shook her head like I was an idiot. “If this looks like her cat, we can get it in the morning.”
“Ohhhh.” I realized what my very wealthy, very out-of-touch boss was scheming. “I don’t think that Olive will fall for the ol’ switcheroo.” I walked to the sliding door. “Thank you for watching her while I searched the neighborhood. Hopefully, the cat will turn up tomorrow.”
“I hope so too.” Mrs. L smiled through a full face of makeup. I wondered when she took it off. She had thousands of bottles of skin care in the bathroom, so I knew that it must come off at some point.
“I’ll be in at the usual time tomorrow.” I tucked the blanket around Olive, even though it was stifling hot outside.
Mrs. L shook her head. “We can go one day without washing the floors, Piper. Keep looking for that cat. I’ll get my assistant to put a bulletin on the community social media page. Maybe someone has found her and is keeping her safe for the night.”
How had I been so lucky to find the job with the Lockelhursts? They were some of the most generous people I’d ever met. “Just so you know, I met the new neighbor. If he finds the cat, he’ll bring her over.”
Her eyes widened. “Is he as good-looking as everyone says he is?”
“Ummm.” Yes. Better. “I guess he’s handsome. His name is Gideon. I didn’t get his last name.”
“Bailey,” she said. “His name is Gideon Bailey. He’s some big-shot hockey player. Mr. L says that he’s going to take the team all the way, whatever that means. All the girls at the club say he’s the best-looking man in the league.”
“I haven’t been to the club lately, so I’m not up to speed with the gossip.” Along with a very fair wage and a beautiful apartment over their garage, the Lockelhursts provided me with a membership to the exclusive Azalea Bay Club.
“Well, I’ll tell all the ladies that you’ve seen him and that he’s…”
She made a fill in the blanks gesture. It took me a second to decide if I should tell the truth. “He’s the best-looking man I’ve ever seen in my life.” There was no harm in noticing a good-looking neighbor, was there?
Olive flinched in my arms. Mrs. L winced and stroked Olive’s cheek with the back of her finger, lowering her voice to a whisper. “We’ll have to tell him that the club membership is included for all of the Rosewood Estate owners.”
“He’s a hockey player. I doubt he has time to go to the club.”
Shrugging, she smiled. “Fit it into a conversation the next time that you see him. Mr. L would love to play a round with him.”
Mrs. L wasn’t looking for eye candy; she was trying to arrange a round of golf for her husband.
The two of them had been married for almost fifty years, and while I knew no relationship was perfect, I admired the way they looked out for each other.
Every day, Mr. L left a folded note on the kitchen table for his wife, her name, Judith, surrounded by a hand-drawn heart.
Maybe one day, I’d meet a man like Mr. L.
My daughter slept like a rock and was getting boulder-like in my arms. I wished Mrs. L a good night and thanked her for watching Olive.
By the time I reached the top of my carriage house stairs, my biceps ached like I’d mopped an entire ballroom floor by hand.
I managed to punch in the door code and deliver my daughter to her bed before they completely gave out.
Tucking Olive in, I kissed her cheek. “I’ll find your kitty.
I promise.” I stepped onto the balcony to double-check that the cat hadn’t been at home the entire time.
One of Mr. L’s newest purchases, a Cadillac Eldorado, was parked in front of the garage.
A lightbulb went off in my head. The rest of his vintage car collection was stored in a garage in the suburbs.
Could Pussy have crawled into one of those cars and be trapped in some hot storage unit?
My hands gripped the railing with the terrible thought.
Mr. L came out to the driveway in his plaid pajamas and leather slippers. “You’re up late.” I pried a hand from the iron railing to wave at him, trying to keep the panic from my voice. “That’s a beautiful new car.”
“She’s a beauty, but keeps me up at night.
I woke up from a dead sleep worrying about the weather.
” He raised his hand with the keys. “I need to put the top up. It looks like it might rain.” He got into the car, and while he fiddled around, I tried to figure out how to ask him to take me to the storage unit in the middle of the night.
We were close, and he was a great boss, but that was asking a lot.
“Piper!” He jumped out of the car, holding Olive’s tabby cat like he was the baboon in The Lion King . “She was in the back seat napping.”
“Oh my gosh.” The stairs shook as I sprinted down them two at a time.
When Mr. L handed me the cat, she cracked an eye open and yawned, digging her claws into my chest. “You little jerk.” I kissed her head.
“She must have crawled in here when I moved it after dinner.” He scratched the top of Pussy’s head. Even though I was furious, the vibration of her purrs warmed my heart. “You’re going to have a happy little girl in the morning.”
I smiled. “Thank you. Tell Mrs. L that I will be in at the regular time. She gave me the day off to look for this little…” I wanted to say fucker, but I tried to be professional in front of the Lockelhursts, especially Keith. “… cat.”
“I will. Good night, Piper.” He turned and went into the mansion. I squeezed the cat tightly as I made my way to the carriage house.
After drinking two bowls of water, Pussy made some biscuits on Olive’s comforter, then curled up to sleep at her feet. I glanced at the clock. It was well past two in the morning, and I felt like a zombie. In only four hours, I would have to get Olive ready for day care.
While I washed my face, I thought about the new neighbor, Gideon. He was kind, well-spoken, a gentleman, really. It had been fun while it lasted.
I was a single mom trying to make ends meet as a maid.
Not exactly NHL girlfriend material. I dried my face and padded into Olive’s room.
Stroking her hair, I realized it didn’t matter.
I planted a kiss on my daughter’s freckled forehead.
This was my life, and I wouldn’t trade it for any man, not even the hot new Barracuda.