Page 48 of Men or Paws

I shook my head. “You don’t waste time with the flirting, do you?”

She glared at me. “I was talking to Houdini.”

“Yeah, sure you were.”

Beth ignored me and reached down to pet Houdini on the head. “Look at you, all fresh and clean.”

Okay, maybe it bugged me a little that she wasn’t talking to me.

How could Beth not notice that I was also fresh and clean?

Houdini walked by Beth toward the kitchen, sniffing around the floor for scraps and crumbs.

For some reason, seeing Beth barefoot caught me by surprise.

She had the cutest toes, her nails painted a medium shade of pink. I didn’t have a foot fetish at all, but why did I have the sudden urge to give her a foot massage while she ate grapes and sipped champagne?

She followed my gaze, then furrowed her brows. “You’ve never seen feet before?”

“I’ve never seen feet that cute before. How long have you had them?” I chuckled, then jerked my head up after I realized what I was doing and the stupid question that came out of my mouth.

How long have you had them?

Who am I? I was trying to be funny, but why?

Beth was going to give me crap for flirting, I was sure of it.

“Go ahead,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “Spit it out.”

I cocked my head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. You’re going to tell me that having cute feet is a fact, not a flirt. Go ahead, let’s get this over with. You’re so predictable.”

Why did she say it like it was a bad thing?

Predictability isn’t boring. I loved my routines and my habits, because they gave me a sense of control, which gave me less stress. Being predictable didn’t mean I had a dull and boring life. That being said, I could be spontaneous when the time was right. In fact, this was exactly one of those circumstances where I needed to pivot, to keep her on her toes, and to entertain myself in the process. The best way to accomplish that was to give Beth the opposite of what she was expecting. The truth.

“It was a flirt,” I said.

“What a bunch of bull. You think you can just—” Beth froze, then blinked in quick succession, as if the rapid eye fluttering would work like a windmill to help generate sufficient energy to clear up her confusion.

“Wait . . .” She studied me for a moment. “What did you say?”

“I was flirting with you,” I said.

She continued to stare at me.

It worked! I stumped her!

At first, I thought it was genius to admit to the flirting.

Beth clearly had no clue what to do with my confession.

Then I thought about it a little more.

Would my honesty backfire on me?

She was certainly smart enough to know that my admitting to the breach of our agreement meant she had the right to terminate the contract and walk away.