Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,52

some financial aid, but…” I opted for a shrug rather than finish the thought.

Her face was sad and open but without pity. Only compassion. “What did you do?”

“Got a job as a bartender. I’ve always loved to read—not like you, but you’re superhuman.” I gestured to the stacks.

She chuckled.

“And…I don’t know. I came up with the idea for Jack of all Hades on the subway one day and came home to write longhand on a yellow legal pad. Took me three months to save up to buy a laptop. First agent I queried picked me up and got me a deal. And the rest is history.”

“You’ve achieved so much,” she said earnestly. “You’ve done so much.”

I snorted a laugh and brought my hands up in display of the room. “A regular old Cinderfella. Wanna know another secret?”

She smiled and nodded. Claudius’s tail flicked and curled around her waist.

I cleared my throat and unleashed the Bronx. “I’ve been hidin’ my accent for comin’ on ten yeahs.” I stuck my hand in her direction. “Niceta meetcha. Name’s Tahmmy Banowski, straight outta da Bronx. Mount Eden, which is lessa paradise den you’d think.”

Her eyes widened and lips parted in an O, though the edges curled just a touch. “Oh my God. That’s amazing.”

“Glad you’re impressed, sweethaht,” I said with a smirk, packing it away again. “I didn’t want anybody to know where I came from. Didn’t want anybody to know my past.”

“Is it…did something bad happen to you?”

I shook my head. “Nah, nothing that interesting. I just worked hard to get out of that life that it was easy to create a new identity. That, and I didn’t want to sell out my ma. I didn’t want to sell my story. I’d rather make one up. It’s what I’m best at anyway. So, I get it. Not wanting to speak. Not wanting people to judge you for the way you sounded.”

She drew a breath, her eyes wide and sparkling. That gorgeous color rose in her cheeks, and I clenched my fingers to stop the tingling wish to touch her.

Before either of us could speak, Gus ambled in, shaggy tail wagging, tennis balls lodged in his mouth. He completely ignored me, pausing a few cautious feet away from Amelia.

He went still from snout to tail, his eyes locked on the feline in Amelia’s arms. The cat, in turn, stared back, the tip of his tail flicking wickedly. The air was thick with anticipation—I think everyone held their breath, except the cat. Clearly he was the emperor of us all—everything hinged on his response.

He leaped lazily from her arms, and Gus lowered his front half in a snap and a thump of his paws on the rug, ass in the air and ears perked.

Claudius pranced around Gus, his tail a question mark as he inspected the dog, whose tail had begun to wag tentatively. His tennis balls were all but forgotten, rolling across the room toward Amelia’s feet.

In Gus-speak, this was mammoth in meaning.

The dog’s nose was low, his eyes big and hopeful. His nostrils flared in pulses as he caught the scent of the pious cat. Claudius stopped, eyeing him with the aloofness of a duke for a protracted moment.

And then he walked away, completely uninterested, tail high as he strutted out the door to survey his new domain.

Gus sprang into motion, scrambling to grab his tennis balls before chasing after the cat, trying to get his attention. The balls slipped, and Gus panted around them, bouncing behind the most disinterested cat on the planet.

Amelia laughed. “I think Gus wants to play.”

“And I think Claudius doesn’t even know he exists.”

“Well, at least they’re not fighting. I don’t know if Gus would survive.”

“I assure you, he would not.”

Gus started barking, and we bolted out to save him from the cat. But instead of that kerfuffle, we found my mother kneeling down to pet Gus, who was attempting to lick her face off.

“That’s a good boy,” she cooed, stretching her neck in a vain attempt at avoiding the onslaught of his tongue. “You’re such a good boy.”

“Heya, Ma,” I said as I approached, bending to hold her arm with one hand cupping her elbow, the other waiting palm up for hers.

She took the offer, putting her weight on me as I helped her up.

“We were gonna come down,” I scolded.

“I know, but my son has a new wife, and I didn’t want to wait to meet her.” She smiled, shifting to look around me. “Hello, Amelia.