Kitty’s Cattuccino Café
kitty’s cattuccino café
. . .
Cade
The cuddler had given me the wrong address.
That was the only explanation I could come up with for why I was standing outside a place called Kitty’s Cattuccino Café with an orange cat staring back at me through the windowpane. I’d thought it was animatronic at first, until it’d coughed up a hairball that looked more like vomit.
“This is where she said to meet?” Mac drawled next to me, equally unimpressed.
I didn’t want him here, but he’d insisted on tagging along after learning about my ridiculously stupid plan. Mac had spent the whole drive over trying to talk me out of it, or to at least reconsider one of the actresses over Ellie.
But my mind was made up.
I still double-checked the address to make sure Ellie had actually sent us here, and she had.
Things only got stranger when we stepped inside the café. The large room smelled surprisingly clean—just a faint musk mixed with floral air fresheners—despite two dozen cats swarming the place. The air filtration must be working overtime.
A high school-aged girl sat at a small table, reading a book with six fluffy cats surrounding her.
She was the only customer, and Ellie was nowhere to be seen.
I took in the rest of the place. The walls were covered in yellow china plates, tea sets sat on every available surface, but cats were everywhere I looked. Roaming around, licking their paws, and jumping up on the wicker chairs and plentiful cat trees.
The place screamed “old lady’s sitting room.” Which made sense when an elderly woman ambled around the corner, wearing a floral apron and beaming at us. “Customers!”
The surprise in her tone was far from reassuring.
She scampered over, surprisingly spry for her age, and I took a reflexive step back.
Next to me, Mac coughed to cover a snort.
The lady flattened her grey bangs and looked us over, appreciation filling her gaze. “Well, well, well. We don’t get many men like you two in here. Did you come for the tea or the cats?”
Mac was still pulling himself together next to me, so I didn’t want to risk setting him off again by saying neither.
“A meeting,” I answered evenly.
Her bright eyes widened. “A meeting. How delightful. Welcome to my café! Take a seat anywhere you’d like, and call for me when you’d like something to drink. The name’s Kitty.”
She sashayed over to the girl’s table, leaving us standing on a fuzzy pink rug in the middle of the far too cozy space.
Mac looked around at the abundance of tea sets and lace and sweaters on two of the cats. “It’s… charming?”
Before I could chime in with a more suitable word, the front door banged open behind us—startling a few cats into scattering—and Ellie practically fell through the doorway.
“Sorry I’m late!” She doubled over, pushing a hand into her side while gulping deep breaths.
Her brown backpack slid down until it knocked into her head, and a startled meow sounded from inside.
“Ow. I missed the bus by like half a second and had to chase it down. Of course Reuben was driving today, and he pretended not to see me running after him for eight blocks because he has a personal vendetta against me. I think it’s ’cause I accidentally sneezed on him one time when my hands were full, but I can’t prove it. Oh, hi Grace!”
The teenage girl looked up from her book long enough to wave at Ellie.
Out of all her rambling, one part stuck out the most. … She took the bus?
“I’ll be over there if you need me,” Mac muttered before slinking off to the corner with the best view of the exits.
Wheezing quietly, Ellie approached the table nearest to me and lugged her backpack onto a chair. A bubble-shaped window near the top revealed a cat’s frowning face—the same cat from Ellie’s wallpaper on her phone.
“He looks like an angry little astronaut,” I said, walking closer. His fur was mostly white, with dark patches highlighting his eyes and ears.
A frown creased Ellie’s brow, and she crouched to unzip the bag.
“Angry? Maybe you meant to say he looks like the cutest little astronaut, because that’s exactly what he is. Aren’t you, Whiskey?” she cooed to the furball. “Yes, you are. You’re such a cute boy.”
I stared as she kissed his little nose. So, she wasn’t just a weirdo who climbed into strangers’ beds in unicorn pajamas. She also talked to cats.
Great.
I already regretted this plan.
Ellie’s cat silently leapt out of the bag and circled her legs, rubbing against her ankles affectionately. His fluffy dark tail whipped back and forth behind him.
“Good boy,” Ellie whispered, bending to run her hand over his back. “Okay. Go play with your friends, Whiskey.”
Instead of running off, the cat sat on his haunches and stared right at me, his tail flicking behind him.
I could feel his bright blue eyes judging me.
Ellie rubbed the fur between his ears, and her gaze strayed to the corner. “What’s Mac doing here?”
“He goes where I go,” I said, looking away from the cat and taking a seat at the table.
She gave Whiskey one more head rub before settling in across from me, just as the grey-haired cat lady returned.
“Hey there, Ellie Belly. Didn’t know you’d be part of this ‘meeting.’” She leaned against Ellie’s chair, smiling down at her, while my brows rose at her use of air quotes. “Want the usual?”
“Yes, please. With extra chocolate sprinkles on the mocha, please.” Ellie beamed, adjusting her braid to rest over her shoulder. “Thanks, Kitty.”
“Anytime, hun.” Kitty turned her hawklike gaze to me. “And have you decided if you’d like a drink, Mister… ?”
“Coffee. Black,” I answered, ignoring her fishing for a name. Ellie’s manners compelled me to add a quick “Please.”
“Coming right up, Mr. Coffee Black,” she quipped, making Ellie laugh as Kitty turned on her heel.
I lowered my voice. “Her name is really Kitty?”
Ellie smiled. “Yep.”
“… And she owns a cat café?”
“Pretty cool, right?” Still smiling, Ellie propped her elbows on the table and watched me expectantly. “So, what’s this business proposal you mentioned?”
“Before we get to that,” I said, stalling because this place was giving me second thoughts, “I have a few questions.”
Ellie’s smile only widened. “Ask away.”
Her constant cheerfulness only amplified my doubts.
I should’ve uninstalled the app the second I’d accidentally sent that virtual unicorn.
Hiring an actress was the smarter choice.
They were actual professionals, and I’d know what to expect from them.
But something had made me wait to see if Ellie would respond, then I couldn’t stop myself from setting up this meet.
I blamed that damn nap.
“You said there’s no boyfriend in the picture?” I asked, needing to be sure.
It wasn’t a dealbreaker if there was, but this would be a lot less complicated if she was unattached.
Ellie’s jaw dropped, and her gaze darted around the room. “Oh. Oh my gosh. Sadie was right. … Is this supposed to be a date? I didn’t think—”
“No,” I cut in sharply. “Absolutely not.”
Her mouth snapped shut, and a soft snort escaped. “Okay, the ‘absolutely not’ wasn’t really necessary. But yes, I’m single.”
“Good. And have you always cuddled for a living?”
Ellie’s eyes narrowed.
“Not quite. I used to work here at Kitty’s,” she said. “I live in the small rental space above the café, so the commute was unbeatable.”
I tried to wrap my mind around living above a cat café, but nothing about it sounded appealing.
“How did you first get involved with the cuddling app?” I asked.
She hesitated, cocking her head. “Not that this isn’t fun, but are you a journalist or something? What’s with the twenty questions?”
“My offer depends on your answers.”
The curiosity in her gaze brightened, and she settled back in her chair.
“Okay. Well, I wasn’t making enough working here, so I looked for other ways to earn money during my off-hours.
I tried selling my plasma, but they blacklisted me after the second time I fainted,” she explained with a wince.
“Before my second appointment, a girl in the waiting room told me about gig apps and how there’s one for basically everything.
You just need to find something you’re good at.
Lucky for me, I’m really good at cuddling.
Plus, it’s not as big of a deal if I pass out during those appointments. ”
While I tried and failed to think of a response to that, a giant silver robotic cat on wheels whirred into the room and saved me from answering.
The machine was at least three feet tall and resembled a cartoon cat sitting on its haunches with a tray balanced in its front paws. Two mugs and a chocolate muffin sat on the tray.
It rolled up next to our table, barely stopping in time before it could crash into it.
Mac made it halfway over, but I held up a hand to stop him.
The thing was harmless.
“Thanks, Otis.” Ellie nodded to the robot. She set the black coffee in front of me, then grabbed the muffin and other mug for herself. “Mmm, mocha.”
I eyed the machine’s awkwardly long torso. “Otis?”
“Otis is our new server. Kitty thought a robot would attract more customers, but he’s mostly just been an insurance nightmare.” Ellie frowned. She’d barely finished speaking before Whiskey pounced on the robot and swiped at it with his paw. “Whiskey, no! Leave Otis alone.”
The cat backed off, but his eyes didn’t leave the motionless machine. His back arched, hair standing up, and he let out a low hiss.
“No,” Ellie repeated, but her attempt to sound commanding came out more like a harmless squeak.
The cat glanced up at her, unamused, then turned his back to us and sauntered away. His tail flicked the air with each silent step.
“Whiskey’s not the biggest fan of robots,” Ellie murmured. Her frown deepened. “Or vacuums.”
I cocked a brow. “Vacuums?”
“Yeah. My friend gave me a robot vacuum for Christmas last year to help with all the cat hair, and Whiskey thought it was Armageddon in our apartment.” She shook her head somberly, then added under her breath, “It’s really unfortunate that warranties don’t cover pet panic attacks.”
We were officially off-topic.
When the robot jerked backward and zoomed off in the opposite direction, I glanced at my watch. “Back to my questions. You mentioned roleplaying yesterday. Is acting something you have much experience in?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed. “Well, I’m not classically trained, if that’s what you mean. But, yes, I can handle roleplay.” She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling my attention down. “Where are you going with this, Cade?”
I carefully rolled my sleeves up, searching for the right way to word this and hoping I wouldn’t regret it.
“I’d like to hire you for a weeklong commitment that involves some travel, and I’m willing to pay a premium for the short notice,” I explained. “But what I’m requesting is somewhat unorthodox, even for your industry.”
Ellie hummed, bringing the mug to her lips. “Okay, I’m officially intrigued. What would I need to do?”
I paused while she drank, giving myself one last chance to back out of this. But my grandfather’s parting words played through my mind:
Show me you can have a work-life balance, and the position’s yours.
Maybe my plan was a tad overkill, but I’d never been one to half-ass things. It was all or nothing.
So, I chose the direct approach. “Be my fiancée.”
The comical widening of Ellie’s blue eyes was all the warning I had before a mouthful of mocha sprayed me in the face.