Page 23 of Stealing His Kitten

“Okay.”

“If you need privacy, you can use exam room two,” Violet offers. Thanks a whole lot, Violet. The last thing I want to be is alone with my father.

My father motions to the open door with the number two on it, and I go. I don’t have much of a choice.

“Why are you here? This is my place of work,” I ask the second the door closes behind us. If we’re in public, he’ll pretend to be a caring father, but it’s all bullshit. I was a mistake, according to him. One he’d gotten stuck with.

“Always so dramatic. This isn’t your work. You volunteer here.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I put my hands on my hips, but then quickly remember my ring and slip that hand behind my back.

“I wouldn’t be here if you answered your phone.”

“I left it in my Jeep.”

“Which isn’t parked outside,” he points out.

“Did you need something?”

“I was checking on you. I know that you clean for the Hoover family, and there has been an incident.” I try to keep my face neutral.

“What kind of incident?”

“Mr. Richard Hoover is dead.”

I gasp, pretending to be shocked. I did take one semester of theater in high school. You needed one liberal arts credit, and I couldn’t sing to save my life, so theater it was. “His wife also reported that she’d noticed a few expensive items missing from their home.”

“That sucks.”

“That sucks?” my father repeats.

“What? I didn’t know them well. I cleaned their house, that’s all.”

“Mrs. Hoover said that Richard had a bit of a fascination with you.”

I scrunch my nose. What am I? Rich people catnip? “I don’t know anything about that. Besides, I'm seeing someone.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep,” I chirp.

“Who?”

“I plead the fifth.”

My father closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t a courtroom, Marigold.”

“You’re right. It’s the shelter, and I need to get back to it.” I go to step past him to make my escape, but he grabs my arm.

“Where were you last night?”

“With my man.”

“Name.”

“Fifth,” I say again.

“Is he married?” His hand tightens on my arm.

“No,” I answer honestly. Not yet at least.

“This isn’t over,” he says but releases his hold on me.

I think he’s right. This is far from over.


Tags: Mink Romance