poured some kibble onto it. The sound made Red vanish entirely into the powder room, and Sass sighed as she set it down next to the wet food and a stainless steel bowl of water. She understood Red. Shuffled from her home into a strange place she didn’t know, with a person she didn’t know would have made her hide too. In fact, she had hidden many times in the past, even when she’d gotten to the Panuzzis. It had taken a lot of patience for them to get her to come out of her Nowhere Place.
But they’d done it, because they hadn’t given up on her.
So she wasn’t going to give up on Red The Skittish.
Once Red’s meal was taken care of, Sass dug out the makings for her favorite orange-ginger stir fry. As she brought the wok over to the stove her phone rang and the downstairs buzzer sounded almost simultaneously. Glancing at the phone she’d left on the counter, she plucked it up when she saw it was Scout, thumbing the screen as she headed for the intercom’s panel by the front door. “I have someone downstairs buzzing to be let in,” she announced by way of greeting. “What time is it there? Shouldn’t you be asleep by now, Mrs. Fournier?”
“Ivar and his magical penis powers don’t know the meaning of sleep,” came the static-laden response, but Sass could still hear the happiness ringing in her former foster sister’s voice. “It’s about one in the morning here in the Riviera, and we’re just now thinking about dinner.”
“Sounds like you’ve already had each other for dinner, so maybe you should just skip right to dessert.”
“He is my dessert, babe, trust me on this.” The buzzer sounded again. “Go ahead, see who it is. I’ll wait. Ivar’s downstairs arranging some kind of ride for us. If it’s a limo, I’m totally going to jump his bones in the backseat.”
“Good plan.” Pulling the phone slightly away from her face so she wouldn’t create feedback, she hit the intercom. “Yes?”
“Sassy, it’s Rude. Have you eaten dinner yet?”
Just like the first time he’d shown up on her doorstep, Sass’s brain came to a crashing halt, and all she could do was stare at the intercom liked it had just spewed gibberish.
“Answer him, dummy!”
With a jolt, she glanced at the phone she still held and took Scout’s sound—if vaguely insulting—advice. “Uh, Rude? No, I was going to make stir fry.” Great answer. Really witty. Next she’d wow him with her after-dinner plans of painting her nails.
The intercom engaged once more. “Great minds. Let me in and put the wok away. I’ve already got stir fry, veggie and shrimp, sweet and sour pork, fried rice and my favorite, Kung Pao Chicken.”
Her growling stomach had her pressing the door-release button before her brain could tell her that she was a moron. “So,” she said into the phone she belatedly remembered she still held, “that was Rude.”
“Yeah, I heard every freaking word.”
“I guess we’re not done tempting fate. World War III might still be on the horizon.”
“This is unprecedented. I mean, you and Rude sharing two meals in the same day? If I didn’t know better—and seriously, I do —I would say you two were kind-of dating.”
“Bite your tongue. Better yet, have Ivar bite it.”
“I like it when he uses his teeth, but not there.”
Sass snorted. “TMI.”
“Are you opening the door yet? I want to hear how he greets you.”
“I’m thinking of hanging up on you, actually.” But she did as Scout suggested and hauled the door open, braced her free hand on the doorjamb, and stuck her head out into the hallway.
No Rude… yet.
Footsteps echoed hollowly in the lobby below. Masculine. Determined.
Coming closer.
For no reason at all, a swarm of butterflies attacked her stomach.
Weird.
“Sass.” She heard Scout’s infuriated intake of air. “Don’t you dare hang up on me when things are about to get interesting.”
“How could anything possibly be interesting between Rude and me? We
But they’d done it, because they hadn’t given up on her.
So she wasn’t going to give up on Red The Skittish.
Once Red’s meal was taken care of, Sass dug out the makings for her favorite orange-ginger stir fry. As she brought the wok over to the stove her phone rang and the downstairs buzzer sounded almost simultaneously. Glancing at the phone she’d left on the counter, she plucked it up when she saw it was Scout, thumbing the screen as she headed for the intercom’s panel by the front door. “I have someone downstairs buzzing to be let in,” she announced by way of greeting. “What time is it there? Shouldn’t you be asleep by now, Mrs. Fournier?”
“Ivar and his magical penis powers don’t know the meaning of sleep,” came the static-laden response, but Sass could still hear the happiness ringing in her former foster sister’s voice. “It’s about one in the morning here in the Riviera, and we’re just now thinking about dinner.”
“Sounds like you’ve already had each other for dinner, so maybe you should just skip right to dessert.”
“He is my dessert, babe, trust me on this.” The buzzer sounded again. “Go ahead, see who it is. I’ll wait. Ivar’s downstairs arranging some kind of ride for us. If it’s a limo, I’m totally going to jump his bones in the backseat.”
“Good plan.” Pulling the phone slightly away from her face so she wouldn’t create feedback, she hit the intercom. “Yes?”
“Sassy, it’s Rude. Have you eaten dinner yet?”
Just like the first time he’d shown up on her doorstep, Sass’s brain came to a crashing halt, and all she could do was stare at the intercom liked it had just spewed gibberish.
“Answer him, dummy!”
With a jolt, she glanced at the phone she still held and took Scout’s sound—if vaguely insulting—advice. “Uh, Rude? No, I was going to make stir fry.” Great answer. Really witty. Next she’d wow him with her after-dinner plans of painting her nails.
The intercom engaged once more. “Great minds. Let me in and put the wok away. I’ve already got stir fry, veggie and shrimp, sweet and sour pork, fried rice and my favorite, Kung Pao Chicken.”
Her growling stomach had her pressing the door-release button before her brain could tell her that she was a moron. “So,” she said into the phone she belatedly remembered she still held, “that was Rude.”
“Yeah, I heard every freaking word.”
“I guess we’re not done tempting fate. World War III might still be on the horizon.”
“This is unprecedented. I mean, you and Rude sharing two meals in the same day? If I didn’t know better—and seriously, I do —I would say you two were kind-of dating.”
“Bite your tongue. Better yet, have Ivar bite it.”
“I like it when he uses his teeth, but not there.”
Sass snorted. “TMI.”
“Are you opening the door yet? I want to hear how he greets you.”
“I’m thinking of hanging up on you, actually.” But she did as Scout suggested and hauled the door open, braced her free hand on the doorjamb, and stuck her head out into the hallway.
No Rude… yet.
Footsteps echoed hollowly in the lobby below. Masculine. Determined.
Coming closer.
For no reason at all, a swarm of butterflies attacked her stomach.
Weird.
“Sass.” She heard Scout’s infuriated intake of air. “Don’t you dare hang up on me when things are about to get interesting.”
“How could anything possibly be interesting between Rude and me? We
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