Page 4 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

“Double-dare you,” Mary said.

“Double-dare? Are you nuts? We’re not kids anymore. I don’t have to accept a double-dare.”

“Bock...bo-bo-bo-bock,” Mary clucked. Tucking her thumbs under her armpits, she began to flap her elbows.

Annie could feel the stares of nearby customers and felt her already warm face grow hot with embarrassment. “Mary, you’re making a scene.”

“Bock...bo-bock,” Mary squawked louder and began to bob her head.

Annie started laughing. She couldn’t help it. Her sophisticated sister looked ridiculous.

“All right. All right. I give.” Annie raised her hands in surrender.

Mary picked up her coffee cup and took a delicate sip. “Good for you. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? He says no? Big deal.”

“Yeah, big deal.” Annie rolled her eyes.

Fisher heard the footsteps on the stairs long before they reached the landing. Judging from the pace – quick but light – it had to be his landlord Annie. He’d noticed when he leased the apartment that she moved with a speed that made him dizzy. She never walked. She ran.

Sure enough, her mane of fiery red hair peeked around his doorway accompanied by a cursory knock.

“Fisher?”

“In here,” he invited her into his living room.

She took a hurried step forward, but then leapt back with a shriek. Fisher felt the hair on his neck stand on end, but then he relaxed. Harpy, his pet cockatiel, had swung down from her perch on top of the door frame and was hanging upside down in Annie’s face.

“Hello,” Harpy said. “Hello.”

Fisher glanced out the door to see Annie leaning against the rail her hand pressed against her rib cage as if trying to keep her heart where it belonged. One long, curling strand of hair fell across her face. She pursed her lips and blew it aside. She looked thoroughly exasperated. Fisher swallowed a laugh.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Harpy’s just getting used to her new digs.”

“Harpy, huh?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“Come here, Harpy.” Fisher held out his finger, and Harpy gripped it with her beak and swung down to perch on his hand. “Meet our new landlady.”

“Hello,” Harpy said.

“Hello, Harpy,” Annie said. “Can I pet her?”

“Sure. She loves to have her pinfeathers scratched.”

“Hi, Harpy.” Annie’s voice dropped an octave as she rubbed the back of Harpy’s head between her index finger and her thumb. Harpy sagged forward, her head bent, giving Annie full access. “Oh, who’s a pretty bird?” Annie cooed and Fisher felt her voice skitter over his skin, making the hair on his arms rise.

When he’d signed the lease, he’d been struck by her resemblance to Orphan Annie. With her curly red hair and freckles, the similarity was close enough to warrant the name. He was pretty sure, however, that Orphan Annie didn’t have a voice that could bring a grown man to his knees.

A waft of scent, faintly floral and very sexy, drifted by his nose. She sure didn’t smell like a cartoon, either. He looked away and tried to envision a curly-topped kid in a red dress with a white collar, standing next to a dog. What was the dog’s name? It had shaggy hair and it was sort of brown...

“Fisher, are you all right?”

He glanced back, hoping that the image in his mind would be standing before him. No such luck. Dark sapphire-blue eyes met his, and he felt himself swallow. Damn. With those eyes, that voice and that scent, she bore no resemblance to the fictional character in his mind.

“Are you okay?” she asked again.

“Just fine,” he lied. So she was attractive. So what? There were plenty of attractive women in the world. He was a professional. He never let his personal feelings get in the way of a job. And this was a job, nothing more. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I...” she stammered. “I...was just wondering how you were settling in?”