Call Me Cat (Call Me Cat Trilogy #1)(21)

She nodded. "I prefer the bad boy. They say girls want a bad boy who'll be good just for them and boys want a good girl who'll be bad just for them. If that's true, you two would be perfect for each other."

I rolled onto my side and leaned my head against my hand. "I have a confession."

She sat up and crossed her legs. "Oh, tell! Tell!"

"Ash has been calling me."

Her expectant face fell. "That's good, but hardly newsworthy. Are you going to go out with him?"

I sat up to face her. "No, not calling me. Calling,calling me."

Her face lit up again. "O.M.G. For real? Like, for phone sex?"

"We haven't actually had phone sex, but yes, that's the line he calls."

"If you're not doing it with words, then what are you doing?" She raised an eyebrow.

I pulled one of her overstuffed pink pillows onto my lap. "We just, I don't know, talk."

"About what?"

"Stuff. Life. He's much less annoying on the phone than he is in person."

She laughed. "I think you are the only female in the world who's annoyed by Ashton Davenport."

"Maybe. He's just so arrogant and dismissive of everything I believe in."

"But he's sexy. Like, god-status sexy." She fanned herself.

"I know you know that there are more important things than looks, Miss Genius IQ, so quit playing dumb. Yes, he's sexy, and there's a certain appeal to him being a self-made man, but I don't think things would work between us. Besides, how am I supposed to explain that I'm Cat, his phone sex operator?"

She threw a pillow at me. "You make things so complicated. You always have! Just have fun. Live a little. Maybe tell him as Cat that you want to meet and when you show up as Catelyn he'll realize that the two women in his life are one and the same. He might be relieved."

"I don't know. This is a bad time to get involved with someone."

"Girl, there's never a good time to be involved with a man. So you might as well feast while there's an all-you-can-eat buffet available."

I threw the pillow back at her. "Okay, enough about me. Who's Mr. 'My car is overcompensating for something'?"

"If he's overcompensating, it's not his cock that's lacking, that's for sure. He's an awesome lay. Not very bright, but he doesn't need to be." She stood and yawned. "Let's change into our pajamas, get some ice cream and watch movies all night in my room. We can pretend we're still undergrads with nothing to worry about but our next test."

That sounded like a perfect night. We spent the evening pigging out on junk food and talking about boys, avoiding any serious discussions until later. But my worries didn't vanish, and I couldn't be the college girl she imagined, because even in undergrad, I hadn't been carefree, not like her. I'd always had concerns that stretched beyond finals and boys, which is why I'd never been in a serious relationship.

Bridgette may be my best friend, but she could never understand the darkness in my past. No one could.

Expect maybe Ash.





Chapter Eighteen


Life Goes On


FOR THE NEXT two weeks, life settled into a rhythm at the Beaumont house. Snow blanketed the mountains outside. Inside we laughed, watched movies, and studied when we cared to. At night, I took calls and made what money I could.

Ash called every evening and used up most of my shift talking about, well, everything. We still hadn't had phone sex, but it didn't seem to matter. The more I got to know him, the harder it became to stay 'Cat' and not reveal myself as Catelyn. I didn't run into him again in person, mostly because we stayed home. A big storm hit our area and made driving almost impossible, so we enjoyed our winter wonderland and pretended the rest of the world didn't exist.

The Pleasure Palace had called the police, told them about the guy who locked his daughter in a closet, but phone sex operators weren't high on the trusted sources list, so nothing was done. My heart broke at the news, but after that night I'd only received mild calls from regulars, though I often didn't have time for anyone but Ash. I shuddered to think how much he spent to talk to me and was half tempted to give him my phone number to save him the cash, but then I'd out myself and have to take real client calls.

The police didn't have any new information, but were still working on the fingerprints. I had the uncharitable thought that if they did their jobs half as well as the actors who portrayed them in television and movies, we'd already have caught the guy.

But then, life isn't like the movies, is it?

Still, I enjoyed the calm before the storm.

And the storm arrived the night of the annual Beaumont Christmas party.





Chapter Nineteen


Like Christmas


I REMEMBERED CHRISTMAS as a child. Before my parents' murder. Before life changed into something I no longer recognized. Before I became a Charles Dickens character.

It was a small affair, with my dad taking us to pick out a tree at the local tree farm a month before other families were picking out theirs. He'd buy me hot chocolate and let me walk the whole lot, boots crunching on the snow, as I studied each tree carefully before making my choice.

We were chilled to the bone by the time we got home, but Mom would light a fire in the fireplace and turn on Christmas music and we would sing and dance and laugh and hang all the ornaments one by one, each special in its own way. I had one picture left of that time. In it, I was fourteen years old, and my dad was handing me the angel to place on top of the tree. We both wore Santa hats, and our tree had lights and tinsel and handmade ornaments that I'd made in school over the years. We looked so happy in the picture, and I could still see my mother smiling as she took it, never imagining it would be the last Christmas tree she would ever decorate.