Part 70 (1/2)
Cute. Zach couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a woman blush. That probably had a lot to do with the kind of women he hung out with.
”I always buy the top of the line and alternate it with canned cat food.”
”Top of the line, huh?” Well, he supposed he could do that for old Tom. ”Which brand do you buy?”
She showed him, and then she led him straight to what she said was her favorite (and, naturally, most expensive) brand of canned food.
”Thanks,” he said. ”You're a real expert. Are you a vet or something?”
The blush returned. She shook her head, making the curls bounce. ”No. I work at Pet Palace.”
His girlfriend's family owned Pet Palace. Zach almost shared this information. Almost.
”Cats are my specialty,” the elfette added.
”I'll remember that if I need some expert advice,” Zach said. They were starting to get pretty friendly here in the pet food aisle. It was time for him to get back to Ray and pizza and the safety of his own home. ”Uh, thanks.”
”My pleasure,” she said.
Pleasure. The word conjured some naughty images of himself and the elfette that were bound to earn Zach a lump of coal in his stocking. If you're going to think pleasure, d.i.c.khead, think about Blair. Good old Blair, who always preferred being naughty to being nice. She'd done the marriage thing and gotten it out of her system, which made her and Zach a perfect match.
With his thoughts properly realigned, he gave the girl next door a pleasant nod and then got out of there. Nice girls were a heartbreak waiting to happen. He knew from personal experience.
”Hey, about time you got back,” Ray greeted him as he walked in the door with a giant sized sack of cat food slung over his shoulder. ”The pizza got here five minutes ago. Let's break open the beer.”
Beer? s.h.i.+t. ”Oh, man, I forgot the beer.”
”Well, if that don't beat all. We come over and bust our chops all afternoon and who does he remember?” Ray asked Tacky, who was camped out on his lap. ”The d.a.m.ned cat. Never send a boy to do a man's job.” He stuffed the last of a pizza slice in his mouth, set Tacky aside and started to get up.
Zach propped the bag by the door, along with the plastic sack full of canned cat food. ”I'm on it. Don't get your Jockeys in a knot. And don't eat all the pizza before I get back,” he added before shutting the door.
He'd run over to the Gas 'N Go and pick up some overpriced cheap beer. No way was he going back to the grocery store. If he saw the elfette again he might just suffer a moment of insanity and get her name and number.
Merilee White stood in line at the checkout flipping through a copy of People and trying to find her holiday spirit. Darn. For a moment there she thought she'd connected with that gorgeous man on the pet food aisle. He'd looked like a modern-day Viking, blond and big. His face had been almost perfect, the only flaw a slightly crooked nose that looked like it might have gotten broken at some point. And those eyes! Blue as a fjord. He'd seemed so nice, and he was an animal lover, too, which, as far as Merilee was concerned, made him a perfect man.
From the way he'd looked at her she could have sworn he was interested. But then he'd gotten skittish and bolted. What the heck had she said? What had gone wrong?
She sighed. So much for the grocery store being a great place to meet men. Where had she heard that, anyway?
Oh, yes, her sisters. It seemed they were always meeting men in the grocery store. They also met men at the gym, at the mall, the coffee shop, business conventions, the women's lingerie department. Sheesh. Why couldn't she have been a s.e.xy fas.h.i.+on diva like her successful older sister or a bubbly blonde like her baby sister?
She sighed. Her sisters always told her she didn't send out the right vibes.
What did they expect? Her pheromone broadcast tower was broken. She frowned at her down coat, which was now way too big for her, and could almost hear her older sister's scolding voice.
”Advertise,” said Gloria (nickname Glorious). ”Who can even find you buried under those ugly clothes? Men are lazy. You have to make it easy for them.”
Gloria's idea of advertising was wearing low-cut tops and b.u.t.t-hugging jeans, but outfits like that weren't for Merilee. She'd never worn clothes like that. Of course, she'd never had the figure for clothes like that. Maybe now she did, but she sure didn't have the confidence for them.
”What exactly would I be advertising?” she'd muttered. ”In those kind of clothes men are going to ask me how much I charge.” Even as she'd said it she'd thought, You should be so lucky.
She'd turned down Gloria's offer to take her shopping and Gloria had given up in disgust.
”Guys don't like to take risks,” said Merliee's younger sister, Liz. ”You've got to send out a clear signal that you're interested so they know they've got a green light.”
So far very few men had seen the green light. (It worked about as well as the old pheromone broadcast tower.) She was now twenty-six and she'd had only a handful of relations.h.i.+ps-a very small handful at that. Okay, it was more like two fingers' worth, and neither had been a keeper. Of course, the prime time for finding keepers was in college. In college, just as in high school, she hadn't been the kind of girl who keepers looked at. Even now, although she'd lost fifty-two pounds in the last three years, the insecurity that had ridden her since middle school, right along with the extra weight, refused to budge.
”You've just got to put yourself out there a little more,” Liz insisted.
Easier said than done. Merilee had always been quiet. Her embarra.s.sment over her weight had made her painfully shy around guys. On top of that she'd gotten lost in the giant shadow of her overachieving siblings. Not only were her sisters magnificent, her younger brother was a star. Literally, on a television soap. Then there was her older brother who had his successful business, his perfect wife, and his two gorgeous children. Well, so what? She had ...
She slapped the magazine shut and put it back in the rack. The last thing she needed was to read about beautiful people.
You are not a failure, she told herself firmly. Dropping out of veterinary college didn't make a girl a failure. It simply made her broke. She'd go back and finish when she got more money. And meanwhile there was nothing wrong with working in a pet supply store and volunteering at the local animal shelter. Animals needed love, too. And animals appreciated a girl no matter what she looked like. Animals saw into a person's soul.
Merilee paid for her groceries-cottage cheese, salad makings, and a candy cane (a girl needed to live it up once in a while)-and left the store with a stoical smile. But as soon as she was in her car she let out a sigh.
”Oh, stop already,” she scolded herself. ”Your life is not so bad.” And to prove it she flipped on the radio to a station that was playing Christmas music and began to sing along. 'Tis the season to be jolly. Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-LA!
There. She felt better already. Life was good. She had food and shelter and people in her life who loved her. Christmas was right around the corner, which meant lots of family fun and time-honored traditions. So what if she didn't have a man. Did a woman need a man to be happy?
Some little voice at the back of her mind whispered: No, but it sure helps.
THREE.
The cat stayed hidden the entire time Ray and Taquito were over. ”Just as well,” said Ray.
”Oh, that's right,” sneered Zach. ”Killer there would have hurt him.”
”Dogs hurt cats,” said Ray, scowling.
”Big dogs, yeah, but I've seen rats bigger than that mutt of yours,” Zach teased, making Ray frown. ”And, judging from the looks of him, old Tom's survived a few fights.”
”A real beauty, huh?” Ray shook his head and took a swig of beer as the action movie they were watching boomed its way across Zach's TV screen. ”That seals the deal. You won't be finding anyone who wants him. Looks like you've got yourself a cat.”
”Oh, no. I'll find a home for him.” Somewhere, someplace, somehow.
There had to be someone he knew who'd want a mangy orange tomcat with a torn ear. ”Anyway, what was I supposed to do, let the little guy get the needle?”
Ray shook his head. ”Man, you are a pushover.”
”The h.e.l.l I am,” Zach retorted. ”I'm just not a cat killer.”
”You don't know that they'd have killed him,” Ray observed.