Free A Purrfect Romance by J.M. Bronston Page B

more. Just when I thought everything was going so well. But what does he care? Just so he can have some huge space to play around in. He’d probably get rid of all that beautiful furniture, all those antiques. Paint everything battleship gray, I bet. I can just see it: he’ll turn the living room into a gym. For a family he doesn’t even have. Just him and his big dog!
    And what about the cats? What about those two sweet, beautiful animals? What would happen to Silk and Satin?
    She imagined them tossed out into the street like a couple of strays. A tiny laugh broke through her tears.
    Silk might get a kick out of that, she thought ruefully, remembering Silk’s adventure at the fish market.
    The thought of Silk slinking around in dark alleys, having the time of her life, restored Bridey’s perspective. Silk wouldn’t go weeping into the ladies’ room just because life tossed a hurdle or two in her path.
    Get over it, Bridey, she told herself sharply. She went to the washstand and dabbed cold water at her eyes and pulled herself together.
    “Some sexy !” she whispered to her reflection. “He wouldn’t have cared if I’d worn a brown paper bag. Mack Brewster’s only interest is the apartment. He’s got his own plans, and he’s not concerned with anyone else’s.” She sniffled once. “It’s a good thing I didn’t waste time getting my nails done.”
    She realized the attendant had peeked around the corner to see if it was safe to return.
    She dried her face.
    “Let’s just get back there,” she ordered her reflection in the mirror, “and finish up this dinner. Then let’s get out of here as fast as possible.”
     
    Mack rose from his seat as she returned to the table and reached for her chair to hold it as she sat down. He opened his mouth, but she spoke first.
    “What about Silk and Satin?” she asked, totally composed, totally chilly.
    “The cats?”
    “Yes, of course, the cats.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure some provision could be made for them. They’re nice cats; someone would want to take them. If not, they could go to the ASPCA. Or Bideawee, or some such organization.”
    “Nice cats? They’re not just nice cats. They’re wonderful cats. They’re special cats. They’re beautiful and sensitive cats. And 12A is their home, the only home they’ve ever known, the home they’re entitled to remain in. That’s what Henrietta Willey wanted for them, and she made very clear and specific arrangements for them. They can’t just be tossed out on the street. Don’t you have a heart?”
    “Of course I have a heart, Bridey.” He looked befuddled. “And I love all animals, great and small. But I already have Scout, and I’m not going to ask him to share his space with a couple of felines. He might object.”
    By now she was getting mad. And madder still, every moment. Her own stubbornness had been aroused by Mack’s air of unqualified self-assurance.
    “Well, it’s not his space yet. And it’s not your space either. And you know what? This space is getting too small for me.” She glanced around the quiet room. “I would like to go home now.”
    “But you haven’t had your dessert.” He looked dismayed. “At least have some coffee.”
    “I don’t want any coffee.” She stood up. “And I don’t want any dessert.” She had her bag in her hand and was already headed for the door.
    Mack practically knocked over his chair, digging in his pocket for some cash and signaling the waiter to bring the check. She was out of the door by the time he’d tossed some bills onto the table. By the time he’d retrieved their coats and his umbrella from the checkroom, he had to run to catch up with her.
    “Now, dammit, Bridey,” he said, reaching her side as she strode down Hudson Street, looking for a cab. He was trying to assert the control he was so accustomed to. “Now, dammit, I won’t allow you to go off mad.”
    “You won’t allow me?”
    She turned to flash an outraged glance