Page 8

CASSIE

“...And you can set the litter box up in here if you’d like. I never owned a cat before, but I heard they don’t like their food anywhere near where they use the bathroom. Which to me makes sense. So I put Leo’s bowls next to the window so he could have a dinner with a view.”

A soft chuckle fell from Manon’s lips, but she stilled when she looked up to find me frozen in disbelief.

“Are you alright?”

My eyes did a quick scan of my surroundings. Washed-out red brick walls lined every inch of her industrial style apartment. We were high up. So high up in the sky that the clouds had blocked the view of the streets below. I didn’t get the chance to hear her say what floor we were on. But when an actual doorman greeted us and entered the code to the private elevator... I knew wherever we were, was well out of my tax bracket.

It had only been a few days since our huge break through, but Manon had insisted I get a tour of her place and move in before anything drastic happened with my apartment. I fought and pleaded. Swearing I could be blowing the whole situation out of proportion. What if Blue Wheels really wasn’t gunning for me?

But after thirty seconds of staring at each other, we both knew that wasn’t true.

The facts had become crystal clear, and there was no denying what we were going up against. We were already the underdogs. Anything that could knock us off our feet from this point on, would just plummet us. Something critical as me losing my home could cause us to fall off due to emotional stress. And there you go—Blue Wheels wins.

This is what they wanted. They needed to see me fail. As crazy or drastic as it sounded, they were clearly willing to do whatever it took. If we were basing it off the proof we had, then we needed to stay ten steps ahead.

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. I needed to protect myself, but that started with being vulnerable. I had to put aside my own childhood trauma that Manon had no business being affected by, so that we could both win this.

After I had snapped at her we had come to a reasonable conclusion, and that was the first time that’s ever happened. I was speechless, because no one that I had ever blown up on reacted the way she had. Instead of freaking out or kicking me out of her office like she probably should have–she listened. She sat back with open ears and listened to me read her to filth.

Then she had the audacity to tell me I was right?

I was right?

I hadn’t heard those words a day in my life. It been years of me apologizing and taking the blame for every argument in my life. I had forgotten what it was like to be heard.

It was a weird, warm and fuzzy feeling that I liked. I enjoyed hearing Manon agree and tell me every single lingering thought or feeling of mine was valid. She didn’t care how embarrassing or rude it made her look. She was willing to accept her rights, and her wrongs.

I was enamored, and maybe even a little turned on.

Okay, maybe a lot.

Manon looked at me like she needed me to understand how she felt. Like her life depended on making sure that in that moment, I was okay. Or that I knew nothing was my fault. She ensured me that there was nothing wrong with me or my strange quirks. Our worlds were just different, and something about that made a tingle shoot up my spine.

I was so used to being with women that came from the same world as mine; that speaking to someone who actually had their shit together was… so fucking hot.

Who knew being self-aware and not emotionally unstable was such a turn on for me? Just hearing her speak in a calm and collected tone rather than matching my high octaves, made my thighs twitch.

Was the bar for me in hell or was I just severely touch deprived?

I couldn’t decide because neither seemed accurate. Manon was proving to be better than most people our age. We were only four years apart, but it felt like an entire lifespan worth of maturity levels had separated us.

She knew what she desired in life and was adamant on getting it. That was obvious from our first meeting. I could tell she was a know-it-all workaholic and somehow that enticed me rather than scared me away. She was different from anyone I had ever met before, and I wanted to understand every bit about her. From the way she broke down each case to how her eyes fluttered when she came.

I secretly wanted to know everything.

So, it wasn’t hard for me to say yes, if I’m honest. I argued and acted like I didn't need the help, but my stomach was doing backflips with how excited I was about spending more time together.

It was like I was forgetting about what had brought us together in the first place. But that was exactly what I needed, a break from my reality.

I needed to sink deep into something that made sense. The only thing that seemed to feel right, was Manon. Even throughout our short rollercoaster of emotions, I felt closer to her and more mentally understood by her, than most people in my life.

I couldn’t comprehend how someone could care so much about a complete stranger. Taking me as a client without a cent to my name was insane. But letting me stay in her place was concerning.

I had just dragged her through the dirt just a few days ago, and now she was clearing out space for my 6-month-old rescue.

The thought made me chew on my bottom lip, as my face clouded with uneasiness.

I awkwardly cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m just a little bit overwhelmed, sorry.”

My admission was raw and unfiltered, and I could tell by her expression that Manon respected that. Her face softened at my words. She swiftly dropped the handful of white sheets she was carrying, before sitting across from me on the large cloud-style couch that filled her space.

We were feet apart but I could feel her concern like she was right next to me.

“I know. It’s a lot. I'm sorry.”

I could see the concern sitting between her brows. She looked at me like this half of the time we spoke. Like she wasn't sure about anything but wanted to read the room before reacting. It was a small sense of respect that almost made me uncomfortable.

“You have no reason to be sorry. This is beyond what most people would do to help someone out, let alone a stranger.”

When I saw the corner of her mouth curve upward, I let my eyes roam the room. It was big, not unreasonably or ridiculously big, it was the perfect size for her. This was exactly what I pictured when I thought of where Manon would live.

The space was warm and cozy, with most of it filled with stacks of papers just like her office. It was right on brand. The way that framed artwork leaned against the baseboards of her walls, as if she had spent too much time overthinking the placement before just giving up. Or how every light fixture had warm bulbs to prevent from having the cold and empty aesthetic or a doctor’s office. Her place reminded me of the opposite. Don’t get me wrong, it was clean it just wasn't spotless.

It was real. She didn’t have cleaners or people to do her laundry. She was living like most of us, just with a huge salary.

Manon’s voice broke through the silence, clearly watching my eyes. “Sorry, I know it isn’t the cleanest right now but–”

“—It’s perfect.” I cut her off, not letting the idea that I didn't like her place even enter her mind.

“It’s about 20 times the size of my place, so I'm just in awe.” I slowly rose from the fluffy white cushions with Leo tucked into the side of my arm. He hasn’t made a peep the entire drive over until now.

“Meooooww,” Leo dragged on, his mouth going wide as his head whipped around. Maybe I was biased, but he looked like the cats they used in commercials—energetic, loving, and a bit mischievous.

“Put him down, he wants to roam and explore the place,” Manon spoke up, causing me to stop in the middle of the room. My head snapped to her, but she was focused on the tiny black ball of fur struggling to get out of my grip.

I looked back down to see two solid rings of yellow staring back at my wide and apprehensive eyes. “Uhm, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. He can be kind of cra—”

“Put him down, Cassie.” Her tone was so demanding it came out as an instruction, but she didn’t return my gaze.

Leo responded with another sharp and abrupt meow, this time, sounding pitiful.

Oh, god. I was being outnumbered.

I let my eyes roll back as I watched him dramatically try to separate himself from my body. But before he could sink his claws into my side, I released him. Letting the ball of fur slip away like a snake.

He was fast and already on the move. My gaze quickly snapped to see Manon watching him too.

The corner of her eyes crinkled as her smile grew. She was admiring my son like he was a precious jewel. She looked amazed by every move he made. She watched intently as his outstretched arms elongated his small frame like a rubber band and his whiskers twitched with interest. Mannon was just as curious as he was.

“Did you say you never had a cat before?” I questioned, curiosity finally getting the best of me.

Her gaze lifted to me as I began to roam around. Her apartment may not have been the biggest in the city, but it was the prettiest. It was the epitome of quality over quantity, because every inch of it spoke volumes for her character.

The walls weren’t covered in posters or art prints. Most of the walls were bare, and the ones that weren't were filled with frames of family portraits, diplomas, and vacations.

These were real, perfectly printed, and framed pictures.

In the dining area, a wall was lined with black and white prints of the city. It looked like one of them may have been Perian Law. For a second it made me reflect on the fact that no one our age romanticized their own lives anymore. Or at least the ones they lived. Most people desired the get-rich-quick lifestyle. Hoping to make it to the top before their thirties. It was like an endless race against time, that somehow Manon had no interest in being part of.

She was coasting while everyone else was at hyper-speed, struggling to get their lives together. Even if, in some other world, there were people on her level; her desires were different. She didn’t seem like she cared for the white picket fence, “let's get married and have kids” kind of life.

Manon was already living the dream without even humoring the path that most people expect women to be on. She had it all. The rich and grown lifestyle with no detrimental responsibilities.

“Well, technically. I’ve never owned any pet in general, so yes.” She gave me a short nod before looking back at Leo who was already making his way toward her. The lower part of his back arched and the base of his tail shook as he started to get closer.

Oh my god, he didn’t want to roam Manon’s space, he wanted to get to her.

I watched as Leo’s tiny black paws scurried across her rug, stopping at her feet. When she didn’t immediately pick him up or reach out to pet him—I'm guessing because she didn’t know she was supposed to—he nudged her leg with his head and let out another low meow.

He sounded desperate, and she looked like a mixture of petrified and confused. Her palms were still glued to her lap as if she was trying to stay as still as possible.

My lips tightened, not wanting to interrupt their first interaction. This was a first for both, Manon with a cat, and Leo with a rich and responsible human.

Leo pawed at her knees for another five seconds before taking the full leap and landing directly on her leg.

The quick gasp that left her lips made my lips loosen as I burst into laughter.

Her face was priceless. I guess she really hadn’t owned a pet before.

“Is he always like this?” Manon’s uneasy tone told me she was unsure of what his affection even meant. He chooses that moment to stretch out his neck to nuzzle his face under her chin.

Holy shit, that was the move he did with me.

“Uhh… not with everyone,” I said with pinched brows, my voice raised slightly as I was hit with comical disbelief.

It was true, he wasn’t. When I first rescued Leo, he was in a dumpster behind my apartment building. If it wasn’t for the sound of his feral kitten cries, he would have been crushed by my weeks’ worth of trash. He hissed, bit, and scratched me until he finally gave up. He must have realized the relentless fight was pointless when he didn't have to struggle to find shelter or food anymore.

Still, that never changed his distrust with most humans. Even Oliver had to fight to for his life whenever he came over. Eventually, he refused to come inside altogether, telling me my “demon baby” was out for blood.

So, this…. was weird to say the least.

“He’s not going to hurt me, is he?”

Manon’s voice was soft and gentle, afraid to make any sudden moves. She looked scared but also intrigued by him. I’m sure from afar it must’ve been way less frightening than now.

I shook my head before continuing our conversation. “No pets? Not even a goldfish?”

Leo lowered his head until it hit her thigh, rubbing his face into her wide-leg slacks; just before flopping onto her lap and rolling himself up into the shape of a cinnamon roll. Manon instantly relaxes.

Her gaze fixates back on mine, and quickly I turn on the heels of my feet to continue snooping around. It was starting to get hard to return her gaze.

I heard a small chuckle in the distance behind me, but I forced myself to not turn around. “Pets would have been too much of a distraction for me.”

My face scrunched up but instantly softened when I walked up to a shelf filled with childhood photos of Manon and her family. From what I could gather, Manon was an only child, which made sense. But I still felt like I had so many unanswered questions.

“Was that something you decided?”

The question left my mouth without thinking, and instantly I felt the air go thick.

But I turned around to face her before I let it drag on any further,

“Sorry, that was a little personal. I was just wonder—”

“—Wondering about how I turned out this way?” Manon completed my sentence like she’d already heard it before.

“I don’t mean it offensively, I’m just cu—”

“—Curious? Cassie don’t apologize for wanting to know a little bit about me. I think we’re a little far past those boundaries. Don’t you?”

Manon cuts me off again as I’m left dumbfounded.

She didn’t look upset or angry, so slowly I nodded my head in agreement. Here we go again. I’m getting that tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Of course. The second I feel like I messed up, here she is, ready to correct my rapidly conflicting thoughts.

I bit my bottom lip to pull me away from my drifting mind. I was suddenly feeling more confident and reassured by her words. My defenses began to subside, and an expression of satisfaction showed in my eyes.

I felt no fear when I opened my mouth to speak again. “Do you want to play a game?”

Manon’s eyes narrowed as she studied me. I expected her to protest and tell me how childish or ridiculous I sounded. But it looked like she was thinking, contemplating what her next words should be.

I waited patiently as I watched her hand repeatedly pet the same spot between Leo’s ears for the 50th time. Leo wasn’t complaining. Instead, his eyes were squeezed shut as if he was finally at peace.

Ugh, what a traitor.

“Depends,” Manon says, forcing me to meet her gaze.

Her face held a small smirk, as her eyes raked me boldly. I knew she wasn't trying to be, but the way her eyes slid downward was so…sensual. I tried to throttle the dizzying current racing throughout me.

“On?” I spoke in a suffocated whisper. Fortunately, she didn't notice the tremor in my voice as she leaned forward—her face splitting into a wide grin.

“If we get to drink?”

***

“Okay, the game is called Truth or Sip, and the rules are pretty simple.”

Manon’s head tilted, she looked like she was already prepared to protest or complain. Her pointer finger shot up, but I didn’t give her the chance to start.

“We both start with a glass full of wine and then we ask each other questions, and each one you don’t want to answer you have to take a sip. The last one to still have something in their glass wins.”

A flash of humor washed across her face. “Do I even want to know what age you were playing this at?”

My mouth twitched, but I refused to give in to her antics. “I was a senior. Now come on, this isn’t time for judging. You're up first!”

Our legs were crossed as we sat in the middle of the rug with only two glasses of red wine placed between us. I told Manon to grab the cheapest bottle she had, but when I saw her walk into an all-glass wine cellar, I knew that wasn’t possible.

My eyes scanned the room, and suddenly the dumb drinking game that I used to play with my friends in my room was completely different. The room was almost pitch black, only a single amber flame being lit between us. The old meaningless rules we made up when I was younger seemed anything but silly right now.

The tiny flickers of golden light that surrounded Manon were beautiful. When I told her we had to turn everything off and light a candle she thought I was crazy, just like many other times. But I refused to play it without us having the full experience. It had been years, but rules were still rules.

Of course, I didn't expect that one day I’d be playing it with my lawyer, but I guess there was a first time for everything. Manon’s skin glowed flashes of yellow and orange, as her stark black hair gleamed in the light.

As the tall white candle began to melt, so did my skin. I was beginning to glisten under the pressure of Manon’s gaze. It was lethal yet calm. It was something about the slightly mischievous look that came into them that made me start to regret my decision to play this game.

“Okay, then let me think.” The corner of her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, as she started to consider her options. I could tell she was taking it seriously, as her eyes roamed the room while she was deep in thought.

I didn't know if I should be impressed or terrified with the fact that she was able to last this long in a pair of slacks, as if they were sweatpants. At least her blazer was off, but that didn’t help me. Because now I had the perfect view of the subtle peach sized curves that sat high on her chest. It was as if the candle was casting a shadow on everything else but the hardened peaks staring back at me.

“Okay, got one!” Manon exclaimed, thankfully drawing my eyes back to hers.

I raised my brows for her to continue, “How did you start rideshare driving?”

You could hear crickets. For a moment I had to remind myself to fix my face, because for some reason that was the last thing I expected to hear.

Over the many years I played this game, no one has ever asked anyone about their jobs. It was like an unspoken rule that we were all drinking to run away from those problems. But I forgot Manon didn’t have that, so this was just a normal conversation to her.

My hand hesitated on reaching for the stem of my glass, but I knew I couldn't be the first one to take a sip—I never was.

“Uhh, well I definitely didn't expect to get into this, this early on…”

Her space between her brows wrinkled and quickly I dropped my gaze to continue.

"But when my mom passed away, I was eighteen, and my father was in and out of the hospital for kidney disease. I was the only one able to work, but the crazy visiting hours didn’t match up with any schedule I could manage at a regular corporate job. The second I found out about doing rideshare I jumped on it, and it helped. It wasn't enough to cover the hospital bills, but I guess I just couldn't emotionally let go of it after he passed. My friend Oliver says it's some type of post-trauma attachment issue that I have. Which I don't necessarily understand, but he’s studying to be a therapist, so I let him say whatever.”

When I finish speaking, I don’t even realize I was rambling until I finally take a breath. My eyes slowly trailed back up to Manon’s, not expecting to see her gaze turn distraught and almost heartbroken.

She looked like she was going to cry.

“Oh my god—.” She sucked in a short breath.

“—Cassie, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes never broke mine, even when a small teardrop hesitated to drop at the brim of her eyes. She still never looked away.

For the first time in the seven years, I’ve experienced this type of grief, someone was giving me a sincere apology. Not that she owed me anything, or that anyone ever did, but it was nice to hear someone mean it. It wasn’t another half-ass, empty, emotionless comment that most people made when they found out I was parentless.

The tears behind her eyes dripped in pain and empathy.

I cleared my throat of the unwelcoming emotions starting to unfold. “Yeah, I guess I could have taken a sip to that one. Sorry, I know it’s a vibe killer.”

“Cassie, your trauma is not a vibe killer , it’s your backstory. I’m sorry anyone has ever made you feel differently.”

Again, Manon’s words struck something within me, causing me to choke on my breath. How could she keep doing this?

Say something so life-altering that it changes something within my brain chemistry. She couldn’t continue getting away with this.

“Why are you so wise?” I blurted out, as the energy immediately shifted. It wasn’t the exact question I wanted to start with; but this game was already being played differently than ever before, so at this point, I was just falling into it.

This was the type of game my friends and I would end up running around naked before skinny dipping in a stranger’s pool. What we were doing was polar opposite, but I liked it. There were no sloppy drunk moments, or messy one-night stands that I would regret tomorrow. We were just enjoying each other’s company and getting to know one another without needing alcohol to have fun.

“Is that your first question?” Manon chuckled, but I stayed completely serious, only nodding my head in response.

Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath.

“Well, I guess you could thank my parents for that. They taught me everything I know, from law school to housework. I owe everything to them...”

Manon’s voice dragged on as my mouth held a small smile. But it refused to grow as my brows began to furrow in confusion.

“Then why do you look sad, talking about them?”

Manon didn’t seem to expect that question, because her breath stalled. She didn’t smile nor frown. She went completely still, eyes blank as she drifted away into thought. I made no move to interfere, only wanting her to speak when she was ready, as she did for me.

After a few seconds, she came back, eyelids blinking rapidly while her remembrance of our conversation began to flood back to her. When her eyes fell back onto mine, she seemed taken aback, but quickly she forced a small fake smile onto her face.

“Last I checked, it wasn't your turn anymore.”

With a tilt of her head, she broke into a small fit of laughter, but even that was forced.

I tried my best to let go of the feeling that there was something more to the story about her parents. I wasn’t going to push her boundaries too far on a topic that was clearly delicate.

She took her time with me and now it’s time I do the same. That still doesn’t stop the number of unanswered questions from flooding my brain. I was still allowed to worry and dissect every bit of that conversation, but it just had to stay in my head.

For the rest of the night, our glasses stayed mostly full, with neither of us winning. We only sipped when we started sharing our most embarrassing childhood moments. Maybe that’s why we ended up pulling an all-nighter.

The issue was that my last question to Manon had been about her celebrity crush. At first, she refused to admit she even had one, but after a few more sips, we were fifteen minutes deep into Stick It. I’d told her I’d never seen it before, but there was no way I was missing out on what Manon found attractive. I was pleasantly surprised when I realized it was about a woman.

Even after Manon was knocked out with her head buried in Leo's fur like a pillow, I still stayed up to watch every minute of it. Because only 2 minutes into it I realized Manon’s type was pretty much the opposite of herself.

She didn’t romanticize anyone else in the cast other than the main character. The rebel, the black sheep, the underdog. She was interested in someone like me.

The thought alone had me up all night until randomly I knocked out before sunrise.

We sipped and rambled and then sipped some more before we both fast asleep in the pile of blankets that we had piled on the floor.

***

The faintest feeling of a paw brushing across my face is what jolted me awake. My hands fly up when I try to crack open my eyes as a beam of yellow light almost blinds me.

I let out a silent groan, but confusion starts to overwhelm my senses when my arms spread out and I don’t feel the end of the bed.

I quickly shot up and onto my elbows. My vision was blurry, but I was still able to make out the 12 foot floor to ceiling windows.

“Oh.” I mutter out, completely forgetting about last night.

My head whips around until I spot Leo tucked into the side of Manon. The image was heartwarming. I hadn't realized how close we all had slept near each other. Even with how big her living room floor was, still, we were all huddled together like one little unit.

I tried to fight my smile from growing as I watched Leo start to lick Manon’s chin, he was starting to do his morning routine. If I didn't stop him soon, he’d probably start nibbling. Clearly, he liked the new space and the company that came with it.

My hand reached out to rub his tiny pouch, “So do I, Leo.” I whispered, hoping my voice didn't carry enough to wake her.

When she didn't move an inch, I knew I was in the clear. Before Leo could even open his mouth, I quickly scooped him up. Tossing him under my armpit before standing up and heading to Manon’s kitchen.

I didn’t take the time to discover it last night, but the warm-toned wooden cabinets and jade-colored island fit the space perfectly. Her style wasn’t flashy, but the few custom pieces she had were breathtaking and blended seamlessly with everything else, like they’d been there for years. What stood out to me most, though, were the five different brands of unopened boxes of paté cans.

If this woman was trying to make me fall apart, she was definitely getting close.

Holy shit, Manon had ordered Leo some cat food. I had plenty with me, she probably didn’t want to just assume, and she had gone above and beyond. They weren’t just five of the cheapest or most random brands of cat food, these were expensive .

I only recognized the brands because they were always the ones I couldn’t afford. I slowly approached the counter with Leo still in hand but it was as if he could smell it through the boxes because he was already squirming.

A small neon sticky note stuck to the side of one of the boxes and in one swift motion I ripped it off to read.

I didn’t know which brand to get, so I just searched up the best ones for cats under six months old.

I hope one of these will work!

The tiny note wrinkled under my grip; I thought I was going to explode from the number of emotions I was feeling at once. The only thing I could think to do was quickly rush to make Leo’s plate before he started screaming. Then I immediately started snooping in her fridge.

If she was going to go out of her way to make sure Leo had breakfast, then I could do the same for her.