Chapter 8
A s they headed out into the reception area, Sylvie turned to Clem and said, ‘I might go and grab some refreshments, but you could wait in the car if you don’t fancy it?
I can bring something out for you. I’m so hungry – I blame those baking smells!
It’s about lunchtime too.’ She checked her shiny gold watch.
Many of the other contestants were heading for the dining area, too.
Clem was grateful Sylvie hadn’t suggested they eat in there – the tension was returning to her body and she was ready to nap at home with Misha sitting in her lap for about twelve hours.
The tension and anxiety had collected inside of her like a ball of string and she needed to release it.
Before either of them could continue their conversation, someone interrupted them.
‘Excuse me . . .’ said a voice.
They both turned. Lucas was standing there.
His friend Dwayne had disappeared – maybe in the dining hall with everyone else.
In the gleaming, bright lights of reception, Lucas’s dark hair had a slightly brown tint and his eyes seemed extra green, reminding her of wild moss.
A shudder ran up Clem’s spine as if someone had let in a draught.
‘I’m sorry about what happened in there,’ said Lucas.
He pushed a hand through his hair, making it more chaotic and messy than it already was, strands sticking up at all angles.
He appeared dishevelled, and even more attractive, Clem thought, her insides swooping like a leaf caught in the wind.
‘I left the window open a fraction for Reina in the farmhouse because it was stuffy. I didn’t know she’d prise the whole thing open and get into the conference hall .
. . She’s a bit of a wild dog. She’s good though, just a bumbling idiot.
She wouldn’t hurt anyone. I think she was after Clem’s squeezy cat – she has a toy just like it. ’
Sylvie waved a hand. ‘No harm done. I’m sure you didn’t intend for anything like that to happen.’
But Lucas was watching Clem, as if he was waiting for her approval.
‘It’s okay,’ she said sincerely. ‘Really.’
‘You know . . .’ said Sylvie, glancing over her shoulder at the hotel, where some of the other contestants were scattered around, talking.
The entrance to the dining hall was set far back from the reception; already there was the clinking of cutlery, the sounds of voices and people helping themselves to food.
‘If you aren’t having anything to eat inside, why don’t you come to the cat café with us for a coffee? ’
‘The cat café?’ Lucas clarified.
‘Sure, why not? Your mum’s told me a lot about you but I don’t think you’ve ever visited us! I’m sure your dad would love it, too. She really wants to bring him along sometime. She’s mentioned it a few times. Why don’t you come along, and see it for yourself?’
Clem had a mad urge to stamp on Sylvie’s foot when Lucas wasn’t looking, but held herself back. Why was she inviting him to the café? She also didn’t understand why Lucas would need to look at the café first, if his dad was interested in visiting. Couldn’t he come himself?
‘Dwayne’s heading over to Muddy Paws, and I . . .’ said Lucas, trailing off.
‘Oh, did you already have plans?’ said Sylvie.
Lucas glanced at Clem, shifting on the balls of his feet as if weighing up his options.
Her neck was warm under his gaze, and she was suddenly flustered.
What should she do? Should she say something?
He’d been kind to her, during the audition.
But he was the competition, going up against them for the prize.
‘I was going to go see my dad,’ he admitted. ‘But you’re right . . . we have always thought he’d like the cat café. Wouldn’t be so bad to report back to give him some encouragement . . .’ He trailed off. ‘And I suppose I can’t miss an opportunity to scope out my enemy.’
Clem’s stomach performed a twist. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Why was he looking at her when he said that? Was he flirting, or fooling around? She couldn’t tell.
Sylvie laughed, and her tone was light-hearted. ‘Great. You’ll love it and you can tell your dad about us, try to convince him to come. I think it’d be good for him. Lots of people find visits to us therapeutic.’
Lucas paused again. Clem could see the conflict in his face, weighing up what Sylvie had said.
She felt like she was missing half of this conversation.
Was there a reason his dad would need something therapeutic?
She wondered what was wrong with him and felt a surge of empathy for Lucas – it sounded like his father was going through something difficult.
‘I can’t stay long,’ Lucas clarified. ‘Let me message Dwayne and ask if he can take Reina home for me.’
*
Not that he’d tell Dwayne this – he’d think it was some kind of betrayal to dogs and the Muddy Paws Café – but Lucas had always wanted to visit Catpurrcino, and not only because he thought it might be enjoyable for his dad, who had always been a cat lover.
But just to see what it was like. He told himself this was the only reason he’d come, and not because of Clem and the way she’d looked at him with those big hazel eyes.
They made their way through the latched gate beyond the gift shop, into the main café room.
After reviewing the café’s rules, Lucas had insisted on paying the cost of admittance since he wanted to grab a coffee while he was here.
Muddy Paws Café was quite basic, with wooden floors scratched by the feet of a thousand dogs, and matching tables spread higgledy-piggledy throughout each room.
It was always noisy, with low music and occasional barking, talkative hikers in every corner.
Catpurrcino was like some sort of Zen retreat by comparison.
The front window was wide and sprawling and a glossy black cat with a white diamond on its forehead was sitting at the window seat, washing its paws and face.
There were towers for the cats all over the place, and shelves for them to climb dotting the walls, like a bizarre obstacle course.
He spotted at least four different cats scattered about: one fluffy smoky-grey cat basking in a bucket-shaped bed, another stripy one with a bobbed tail strutting over to a feeder with confidence, a calico rolling in a patch of sun and trying to catch its own tail.
Across the room, there was a counter spanning the length of the wall, with another smaller gate leading behind it, blocking the cats off.
Glass cake displays were set out and he recognised some of Clem’s cat-shaped doughnuts from the audition smiling up at him.
There were biscuits and cookies iced with cat faces, too.
As they moved further in, Sylvie’s phone began to buzz in her pocket, and she fished it out, glancing at the flashing screen. ‘I need to take this,’ she said. ‘Sorry. Why don’t you sit down and get yourself a drink? I won’t be long – five minutes?’
‘Okay,’ said Lucas, looking uncertainly at Clem.
‘I’ll be super quick.’ Sylvie disappeared behind the counter, through another door and out of sight.
Lucas was left standing with Clem. He wondered what Dwayne would have to say about this development.
He could imagine his friend’s grin when he found out Lucas had spent some time alone with Clem.
Especially after what happened during the audition.
The cameras had honed right in on that. His jaw worked; he was conflicted.
It had been his dog, and his fault she’d been splashed with milk and become so anxious she’d shut down.
So he felt to blame, and he had to help put it right.
Even while he knew it wasn’t something he should be doing, not during a competition like this when they were all going up against one another.
He couldn’t have just ignored her, though, left her to struggle after Reina had behaved like that.
He wondered why she’d entered the competition at all; it didn’t seem to be easy for her, being in the spotlight.
‘Um . . . shall we sit down?’ Clem said, leading him to a table close to the window seat, surrounded by two comfortable-looking cream armchairs.
There was a bucket of cat toys pushed up against the wall nearby – dangly, feathery things and fake mice.
When he took a seat, she hurried on, sounding flustered, ‘Oh, I’ll get our drinks. What do you like?’
‘A mocha would be great. Thanks.’
She nodded and scurried away.
He watched her placing the order with a dark-haired woman behind the counter, who glanced at Lucas and gave him a little wave.
He raised his hand in return. His wallet was digging into him in his back pocket, so he pulled it out.
A large ginger cat bounded up by the window, and Lucas turned, setting the wallet down on the plush window seat behind his chair so he could stroke the cat. The cat began to purr, loud and rumbly.
When Clem came back to the table, she had a pot of tea for herself, his mocha, and a cat-shaped doughnut with grey icing balanced on a tray. He stood up to help her set it down.
‘Thanks,’ she said breathlessly, dropping into the armchair opposite him. ‘I got you one of these, too . . . in case you wanted to try . . . Um, to thank you for before, at the audition.’
She gestured at the iced doughnut; it had a little face, complete with black whiskers. Clem’s ivory skin was prone to flushing a luminous pink and he couldn’t help but notice it made her look even more beautiful, like she’d stepped out of a hot shower.
But he didn’t want his thoughts to go down that particular track. Too dangerous.
‘You didn’t have to do that,’ he said, surprised by her thoughtfulness. ‘Thanks. You make everything here?’ he added, partly to fill the silence and partly to distract himself from her face. He dumped a sachet of sugar from the tray into his mocha.
‘Yes,’ she said, pouring some tea into her cup and swirling in milk. ‘All the baked goods.’
The black cat that had been at the window earlier wandered over and weaved its way to Clem’s legs, brushing against them and her shiny black shoes. Clem reached down to scritch the cat’s neck. ‘Hello, Salem,’ she said softly. Even her voice was delicate, like wind chimes tinkling.
‘I’m sorry again about what happened with Reina,’ he told Clem. He was still feeling guilty. ‘I know the camera caught what happened. But at least it’s only for the judges’ eyes at this stage. No one else will see it.’
‘I hope not.’ Clem chewed her lip. She looked more worried, and guilt churned inside him – he wanted to put things right. ‘On second thought, maybe it put the judges off? It might be for the best if I don’t get through anyway. I’m not great on camera, honestly . . .’ She trailed off.
Lucas raised a single brow. ‘But your doughnuts look really good.’ He lifted up the one she’d brought across to him and took a bite.
The icing was perfectly sweet and soft enough, the vanilla flavouring delicious – and the almond ears added a nice crunch, and an extra nutty taste, which complemented the fluffy inside.
He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him at the sweet, soft taste. ‘They taste great, too,’ he added.
That pinkness was back in her cheeks again.
He wanted to trace the circular curve of her cheek with his thumb.
These urges he felt around her kept stopping his brain in its tracks.
It had been so long since he’d had those kinds of desires – but there was something about her that drew him in, made him want to be near to her.
He needed to stop thinking like this, get his head out of the clouds. What was her deal, anyway? Why was she so reluctant to be part of a competition she’d already applied for?
‘If you don’t mind me asking, why did you enter?’ he said. To him, the most logical thing to do if you didn’t like doing something was to avoid the situation – not dive headlong into it. It was why he’d given up on dating; it had never been the best experience.
She gave a half-shrug, which didn’t quite explain things. ‘Why did you?’ she said.
‘The prize money,’ he said simply.
‘I imagine that’s why most people entered. The practical reason . . .’
‘But not you?’
She opened her mouth and closed it again, thinking. ‘Well, it’s complicated. That’s part of it . . .’
He wanted to ask why she wanted the prize money, what she intended to use it for.
If she was so anxious about being on camera, but entered anyway, there must be something she wanted badly enough, and he was curious to know what it was.
But Clem changed the subject: ‘Do you think you’ll make the next round of the contest? ’
‘Who knows?’ He sat back in his seat, assessing her. She seemed so certain she wouldn’t be selected because of what had happened with Reina, but she was so talented. ‘You might get through, you know,’ he added.
She huffed out a sigh. ‘I know . . . I bet they’re thinking what happened with Reina will make for great viewing.’ She took a sip of her tea, looking at him over the rim of the mug. ‘They got you on camera, too. Afterwards, when you helped. They could pick both of us.’
‘They could do. We’d be rivals then.’
She stiffened.
‘I didn’t mean that in a confrontational way,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s just—’
He didn’t get to finish, because Sylvie had emerged from beyond the counter, the gateway banging shut behind her. She dodged around a big ginger cat lounging on the floor as she made her way over to them, smiling.
‘All done,’ she said. ‘I’ll grab a coffee and join you.’ She headed towards the counter to get herself a drink.
Lucas took a gulp of his mocha. The black cat took this moment to weave around his ankles, and he gave it a quick stroke before straightening up. ‘Would being my rival be so bad?’ he asked Clem.
‘You make it sound like we’ll be sparring with whisks.’
‘We might,’ he said, finding himself smiling at the image, and she snorted into her tea.