Joe. You’ve got a gorgeous date there. You’re a lucky guy.”
Joe’s jaw clenches and his eyebrow raises dangerously.
“Well, you two have a great time tonight. Enjoy the dinner.” Boyd slaps Joe on the back and saunters off.
“Thanks, Boyd,” Joe says after him.
I study my date’s bunched shoulders as he glares at him. I mean, Boyd was a tiny bit scornful, but why in the world is Joe so tense?
Chapter Sixteen
“I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire:
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.”
- Romeo and Juliet (Act 3, Scene 1)
Joe
Okay, if looks could kill, my cousin would be dead. Or at least disabled.
But then he couldn’t impersonate me. I need him to be me tonight and once Kathleen and Juliet win the award and the sponsorship, I’ll tell her the truth.
On the other hand, . . . I could wait a few more months to tell her. After Romeo and I move to Colorado to be with her and Juliet. By then, we’ll all be so deeply in love that she’ll forgive me for the small deception.
As we enter into the massive lobby behind Boyd, we’re met with a chorus of angry voices. I pull Kathleen behind me.
A group of people in all kinds of feline dress face each other, half on one side and half on the other. Given all the costumes, it’s hard not to describe it as, well, a cat fight. It even looks staged, but the emotions on their faces are real.
Kathleen stiffens as she peeks around me. “Oh no.”
“What?”
She points. “Viv and Jess.”
Some of the people on the women’s side of the argument carry signs. I see Juliet for Best Newcomer and Long live the house of Catulet. Another says, Romeo, Romeo, go away, Romeo, followed by #romeostinks.
I spot several familiar faces on the opposing side from their Instagram profiles, and there are more signs. Sorry, Juliet - a cat by any other name will win (Romeo!), Romeo is the Best Newcomer in fair Verona, and Meowtague for President. Not sure about that one.
One woman on Romeo’s side, @catsupkatie, comments on my posts almost every day. She’s about sixty years old and has said in her comments that she has a dozen cats. And currently, she has a fake cat claw pointed in another woman’s face. It’s clearly an argument, but it hasn’t come to blows or anything—yet.
“This is ridiculous. They’re taking it too far. I have to do something,” Kathleen says as their voices grow louder.
“Let me.” Before she can argue, I stride over to the group. “Hey, hey, break it up, folks. Dinner’s about to be served, and I hear there’s an open bar. Let’s all shake hands and make peace.”
“They started it!” A cat-mask wearing young Catulet says.
“How?” A whiskered Meowtague woman asks.
The Catulet sniffs as if her feelings are hurt. “Last night. You guys were pretty mean.”
I raise my hands. “Look, feel free to talk this out, but no shouting. Security’s coming, and you’re all going to get thrown out of here. See?” I point to a beefy guy in a yellow shirt and black pants with Security on his hat heading our way.
“Please, everyone, it doesn’t have to be like this,” Kathleen says from my side. “It’s just an award ceremony. Juliet is my cat. And of course, I’d love for her to win, but if Romeo does, that would be,” I see her swallow hard, “great, too. Thank you all for getting the cats this far, now let the voting take its course. And . . . let the best cat win.”
“Which is Romeo!” A Meowtague says.
“No, Juliet,” a Catulet yells.
“You’re Juliet’s owner?” the sniffling woman asks. Her expression behind her cat-eyed glasses is adoring. “I love her so much!”
“Thank you,” Kathleen says. “She . . . loves you, too?”
“Folks,” the security guard says with a sigh, “you either need to break it up and go enjoy the dinner or take it outside. Now.”
The group grumbles and glares at each other, but they disperse.
Kathleen puts a hand on my arm. “Oh my gosh. I can’t tell if they’re having fun with the feud or taking it way too seriously.”
“Hopefully they got the snarling out of their systems, at least.” I wrap her hand around my elbow and lean in so the stragglers can’t hear me. “And hopefully they won’t be sitting anywhere near us or each other at dinner.”
We head for the