“Who are you talking to?”
“The man that’s in the cab with me.”
“The cab driver stole your Kindle? What’s his ID number?” Caroline demands, ready to go to battle for me.
“Not the cab driver. The man I’m sharing a cab with.” It’s then I realize I don’t know his name. “What’s your name?” I whisper, knowing Caroline is going to ask me.
“Renato,” he responds.
“That’s a nice name,” Caroline says. “What’s he look like? Take a picture.” The man shakes his head no. Damn, he’s hot. There is no way I’ll ever be able to describe him to Caroline later and do the man justice.
“Let me call you after I meet Rodger.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “I might be in rehearsal, but I’ll call you back when I’m done.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too,” she chirps before ending the call.
“What kind of interview are you going on?” Renato asks.
“Cat sitter.” I start, dropping all my crap back into my bag and out of his lap.
“Cat sitter?” He gives me that perplexed expression again. My eyes roam over Renato's fancy suit and shiny Rolex. He’s a bit mysterious and not someone I’d expect to be catching a cab. He looks as though he should have one of those fancy cars with a private driver.
“Yeah. I can’t have one at my place so why not get paid to play with other people’s cats? How about you?”
“No cats.” He smirks.
“I was asking what do you do for a living?” I playfully roll my eyes.
“I work in my family’s business,” he responds vaguely.
“That’s really cool. I grew up in the system, so I don’t have a family, but I have Caroline.”
“The best friend?”
“Yeah, we’ve been together since we were twelve. Well, that was until she left a few months ago. I’m solo now.” My heart grows heavy, but I smile still. I’ve been doing that since Caroline landed the starring role in her show. If she knew how heartbroken I was that she wasn’t here, she might not have left.
Fake it till you make it. That’s my motto. More so lately, it seems.
“You shouldn’t be telling random men you’re solo.”
“I have a roommate. Two, in fact,” I lie. His eyes narrow on me like he knows I just lied to him.
“Okay, one, but he has a dog. Hence why I can’t have a cat.”
“He?”
“Yeah, the dog is a boy. He barks all the time.” Growls too. He doesn’t like me.
“The roommate.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s a he too. You know when I responded to the roommate ad, his name was Aubrey, and it said must love animals because Leo lived there too. Leo! That’s a cat name. I was totally duped.”
“We’re here,” the cabbie says, and I realize we’re parked out front of the building.
“You remember the apartment number I said?” I ask Renato, peeking back into my bag where I dropped my phone. I saved the full address on there, but I don’t feel like digging for it again.
“Yes,” he responds, pulling out his wallet and handing the cabbie a hundred before opening the door and stepping out. I follow after him. What a gentleman.
“You didn’t have to pay. Let me get my wallet.” I start to search for it. Renato snags my elbow and pulls me away from the cab, shutting the door. It takes off. “Wait!” I call after his cab. “He stole your money. That was a hundred bucks!”
“This is near my office,” he responds, still holding my elbow as he leads me toward the building. I drop my head back to stare up at him. I mean, I knew the man looked big in the back of the cab, but seeing him standing up, towering over me is a whole other story. I barely make it to the center of his broad chest. I bet he had to have his fancy suit custom made. My breath catches as I take in every inch of him. He really is handsome. Actually too handsome, if that’s even a thing.
“Oh, well, thank you. That was sweet of you.”
“Sweet of me,” he repeats. “I wouldn't be so sure about that, little bird.”
3
Renato
She looks up at me as the rain lets up, the drizzle returning in place of the downpour. “Well, I should go in.”
“Let’s go.” I walk her to the front of the building where a rough-looking doorman waits.
“You’re coming with me?” She doesn’t sound perturbed. Her tone is curious as she looks over at me.
Yes, I’m going with her. The girl is walking right into an apartment of some man named Rodger who she’s never even met. This is probably some sort of ambush that will leave her with even more damage than the Band-Aid on her chin. No, she absolutely will not be walking into this trap alone.
“Apartment number?” the doorman asks, his eyes scanning up and down the girl in my grip.