I shook it solemnly and offered her my celery stalk. Clive came sauntering in and began to pace by the front door, pawing under the crack.
“I bet our Thai is almost here. Let me get my money,” I said, pointing toward the door as I headed for my purse on the kitchen counter. Just as I spoke, I could hear steps in the hallway.
“Mimi, get the door, that’ll be the takeout guy,” I called, rummaging through my purse.
“Got it,” she yelled, and I heard the door open. “Oh, hey there, Simon!” she said, and then I heard the strangest sound.
I would swear, on a stack of Bibles in a court of actual law, that I heard my cat speak.
“Porrrrreeeennnnnya,” Clive said, and I whirled about.
In the span of five seconds, a thousand things happened: I saw Simon and Purina in the hallway, bags from Whole Foods in hands, key in front door. I saw Mimi at the door, barefoot and leaning (again with the leaning) in the doorway. I saw Clive rear back on his hind legs preparing to jump in a way that I’d only ever seen him do once when I hid the catnip on the top of the fridge. Babies were born, old people died, stocks were traded, and someone faked an orgasm. All in those five seconds.
I launched myself at the door in a slow-motion run reminiscent of every action movie ever made.
“Nooooooooo!” I cried as I saw a look of panic cross Purina’s face and a look of pure lust cross Clive’s as he prepared to woo. If I’d started for the door any earlier, maybe even a second earlier, I could’ve prevented the pandemonium that ensued.
Simon pushed his door open and smiled a confused smile at me as I caught his eye. No doubt he was wondering why I was charging the door and screaming noooooo. Just then Clive jumped. Leapt. Charged. Purina saw Clive jumping directly at her, and she did the worst thing she could’ve done. She ran. She ran into Simon’s apartment. Of course the girl who meows when she has an orgasm is afraid of cats.
Clive gave chase, and as I stood in the hallway with Simon and Mimi, we heard shrieking and meowing echoing back to us. It sounded oddly familiar, and I was reminded of Simon bringing it on home. I shook my head and took over.
“Caroline, what the hell was that? Your cat just—” Simon was saying, and I placed my hand over his mouth as I hurried past him.
“We don’t have time, Simon! We have to get Clive!”
Mimi followed me into his apartment, Ned Nickerson to my Nancy Drew. I followed the shrieks and meows to the back of the apartment, noticing that Simon’s place was an exact mirror image of mine. It was very single guy, with the flat screen TV and the amazing sound system. I didn’t really have time for a proper shakedown, but I did notice the mountain bike in the dining room, as well as beautiful framed photographs all over the walls lit by retro sconces. I couldn’t admire for long, as I could hear Clive getting worked up in the bedroom.
I paused by the door, listening to Purina scream. I looked back at Simon and Mimi, who wore twin expressions of fear and confusion—although Mimi’s also showed quite a bit of merriment.
“I’m going in,” I said in a low, brave voice. With a deep breath I pushed the door open, and saw the Bedroom of Sin for the first time. Desk in the corner. Dresser on one wall, with top covered in loose change. More photographs on the wall, black and whites. And there it was: his bed.
Cue trumpets.
Pushed up against the wall, my wall, was a giant California king, complete with a padded, leather headboard. Padded. It would have to be, now wouldn’t it? It was immense. And he had the power to move that thing with his h*ps alone? Once again Lower Caroline sat up straight and took notice.
I centered, I focused, and I pried my eyes away from Orgasm Central. I scanned and acquired the target: there at the leather club chair in front of the window. Purina perched on the back of this chair, hands in her hair, moaning and wailing and crying. Her skirt was shredded, and there were tiny claw marks in her stockings. She attempted with every fiber of her being to shrink away from the cat on the floor in front of her.
And Clive?
Clive was strutting. Strutting back and forth in front of her, giving it his all. He turned like he was on a runway, pacing along a line on the floor and glancing at her nonchalantly.
If Clive could wear a blazer, he would have taken it off, draped it casually over his kitty shoulder, and pointed at her. It was all I could do not to fall down laughing. I stepped toward him, and Purina shouted something at me in Russian. I ignored her and focused all my attention on my cat.
“Hey, Clive. Hey. Where’s my good boy?” I crooned, and he turned. He glanced at me, and then jerked his head in Purina’s direction as though he were making the first round of introductions. “Who’s your new friend?” I crooned again, shaking my head at Purina when she tried to say something. I held my finger up in front of my lips. This would require great finesse.
“Clive, come here!” Mimi yelled and barreled into the room. She always had trouble containing her excitement.
Clive made for the door as Mimi made for Clive. Purina made for the bed as I raced after Mimi, who collided with Simon just outside the bedroom door, who was still holding his damn Whole Foods bags. Thoughtfully chosen sustainable organic produce rained down on both of them as I pushed past, hurdling over limbs and a wheel of Brie on my way back to the front door. I caught Clive just as he made a break for the stairs and held him close.
“Clive, you know better than to run away from Mommy,” I chastised, as Simon and Mimi finally caught up to us.
“What the hell are you doing, cockblocker? Are you trying to kill me?” he shouted.
Mimi rounded on him. “Don’t you call her that, you…you…you wallbanger!” she fired back, smacking his chest.
“Oh, you two shut up!” I yelled. Here came Purina down the hallway toward us, wearing only one shoe and a furious look. She began to shout in Russian.
Mimi and Simon continued to yell, Purina screamed, Clive struggled to get loose and be reunited with his one and only, and I stood in the middle of the chaos, trying to figure out what the hell had happened in the last two minutes.
“Get control of your damn cat!” Simon yelled, as Clive tried to spring free.
“Don’t you yell at Caroline!” Mimi yelled, smacking him again.
“Look at my skirt!” Purina cried.
“Did someone order pad thai?” I heard above the chaos. I looked and saw a petrified delivery boy standing on the top step, reluctant to come any further.
Everyone stopped.
“Unbelievable,” Mimi muttered and walked into my apartment, motioning for the delivery boy to follow her. I set Clive just inside the door and pulled it shut, cutting off his cries. Simon ushered Purina into his place, telling her softly to find something in his room to put on.
“I’ll be there in just a minute,” he said and nodded again for her to go inside. She glared at me once more and turned in a huff, slamming the door.
He turned back to me and we stared at each other, both starting to laugh at the same time.
“Did that really just happen?” he asked through his chuckles.
“I’m afraid it did. Please tell Purina I am sooo sorry,” I answered, wiping tears from my eyes.
“I will, but she needs to cool off for a while before I will attempt that—wait, what did you just call her?” he asked.
“Umm, Purina?” I replied, still chortling.
“Why do you call her that?” he asked, no longer laughing.
“Seriously? Come on, you can’t figure it out?” I said.
“No, tell me,” he said, running his hands through his hair.
“Oh, man, you’re gonna make me say it? Purina…because she, God, because she meows!” I blurted, laughing again.
He blushed deep red and nodded. “Right, right, of course you would’ve heard that.” He laughed. “Purina,” he said under his breath and smiled. I could hear Mimi arguing with the delivery guy in my apartment, something about missing spring rolls.
“She’s a little scary, you know?” Simon said, gesturing toward my door.
“You have no idea,” I said. I could still hear Clive wailing behind the door. I pressed my face to the edge and opened it just an inch.
“Shut it, Clive,” I hissed. A paw came out through the crack, and I swear he flipped me off.
“I don’t know a lot about cats, but is that normal feline behavior?” Simon asked.
“He has a rather odd attachment to your girl there—ever since the second night I lived here. I think he’s in love.”
“I see. Well, I’ll make sure I convey his sentiments to Nadia,” he said. “When the time is right, of course.” He chuckled and prepared to go back inside.
“You better keep it down over there tonight, or I’ll send Clive back,” I warned.
“Jesus, no,” he said.
“Well, then turn some music on. You gotta give something,” I pleaded. “Or he’ll be climbing the walls again.”
“Music I can do. Any requests?” he asked, turning to face me from inside the doorway. I backed up to mine and put my hand on my door.
“Anything but big band, okay?” I answered softly. Heart moved down low in my tummy, flitting about.
A look of disappointment crossed his face. “You don’t like big band?” he inquired, his voice low.
I pressed my fingers to my collarbone, my skin feeling warm under his gaze. I watched as his eyes followed my hand, further heating me with the intensity of his gaze.
“I love it,” I whispered, and his eyes jerked back to mine in surprise. I smiled a shy smile and disappeared into my apartment, leaving him smiling back at me.
Mimi was still yelling at the delivery guy as I came inside to school Clive, a simpering look on both our faces. Five minutes later, with a mouthful of noodles, I heard Purina yelling something in indecipherable Russian on the landing and his door slammed. I tried to hide my grin, instead playing it off as a particularly spicy bite. No wallbanging tonight, I guess…Clive would be so depressed.
At around eleven thirty that night, as I was settling into bed, Simon played me some music through our shared wall. Wasn’t big band, but it was pretty good. Prince. “Pussy Control.”
I smiled in spite of myself, delighted at his wicked sense of humor.
Friends? Definitely. Maybe. Possibly.
“Pussy Control.” I thought of it again and snorted.
Well played, Simon. Well played.
Chapter Eight
THE NEXT EVENING I was headed out to yoga when I found myself face to face with Simon once again. He was coming up the stairs as I went down.
“If I said, ‘we have to stop meeting like this,’ would it sound as trite as it sounds in my head?” I offered.
He laughed. “Hard to say. Give it a try.”
“Okay. Wow, we have to stop meeting like this!” I exclaimed.
We both waited a beat and then laughed again.
“Yep, trite,” he said.
“Maybe we can work out some kind of schedule, share custody of the hallway or something.” I shifted my weight from one leg to another. Great, now it looks like you have to pee.
“Where are you off to tonight? I seem to always catch you when you’re leaving,” he said as he propped himself up on the wall.
“Well, clearly I am headed somewhere very fancy.” I gestured to my yoga pants and cami. I then showed him my water bottle and yoga mat.
He pretended to think very carefully, and then his eyes widened. “You’re going to pottery class!”
“Yes, that’s where I’m headed…ass.”
He grinned that grin at me. I smiled back.
“So you never gave me the scoop on what you heard at brunch the other day. What’s going on with our friends?” he asked, and I didn’t at all feel a flutter in my belly at the mention of the word our. Not at all…
“Well, I can tell you that my girls were quite taken with your boys. Did you know they’re all going to the symphony benefit next week?” I said, instantly horrified that I went there that quickly.
“I heard that. Neil gets tickets every year. Perks of the job, I suppose. Sportscasters always go to the symphony, right?”
“I would assume, especially when one is trying to cultivate a certain man-about-town persona,” I added with a wink.
“You caught that, huh?” He winked back, and we found ourselves smiling again. Friends? Definitely a stronger possibility.
“We’ll have to compare notes afterward, see how the Fantastic Four are doing. Did you know they’ve been going out on double dates all week?” I said. Sophia had confided that they’d been going out constantly, but always as a foursome. Hmm…
“I did hear something about that. They all seem to be getting along well. That’s good, right?”
“It’s good, yes. I’m actually going out with them next week. You should come along,” I tossed out casually. It’s all for the truce, just the truce…
“Oh, wow. I’d love to, but I’m heading overseas. Leaving tomorrow, actually,” he said.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost looked disappointed.
“Really? On a shoot?” I said, and realized my mistake. That knowing smirk came back with a vengeance.
“A shoot? Checking up on me?”
I felt my face go from pink to a lovely tomato red. “Jillian mentioned what you do for a living, yes. And I noticed the pictures in your apartment. When my pu**y was chasing your Russian? Ring any bells?”
He seemed to shift his weight a little at my choice of words. Hmmm, weak spot?
“You noticed my pictures?” he asked.