Instead, I blocked his number.
He could go pay someone else to be his wife.
But I did get back to living my life.
Whiskey and I straightened up the attic, did a little yoga, and even ventured down to help Kitty in the café with her single customer. She didn’t make a huge deal out of me returning to the land of the living, but I knew she was tickled pink when she slid a mocha and chocolate muffin across the counter to me.
We chatted and counted inventory and played with the cats like I hadn’t just spent days wasting away in the attic. It was just a normal, quiet day at the café.
Until I caught Kitty glancing at the door for the hundredth time with a growing frown.
I followed her gaze, but it looked like the same old paint-chipped red door to me. “What are you looking at?”
She tore her gaze away, blinking twice. “Huh?”
“You keep staring at the door. Are you waiting for someone?”
“Sort of…” Her frown deepened, and she checked her watch. “He’s late. It’s just my luck that you finally come out of hiding, and now he doesn’t show up!”
My brow furrowed. “Who are you talking about, Kitty?”
She huffed. “Mr. Coffee Black has been posting up in the café for days now. Asking about you. Waiting to see you. He has his own table in the dark corner.”
My heart fluttered like the traitor it was.
That didn’t sound like something Cade would do.
“Andnowhe gives up?” Kitty scowled, shaking her head. “I was just starting to like him.”
I snorted. “Thanks for the support.”
Her face fell, and she reached for my arm. “Oh, Ellie Belly, no. No, no. I’m sorry. I tried to give him the cold shoulder at first, but then he sat in the corner there for three days like a sad puppy just waiting for you to come down. I guess he grew on me.”
I frowned. A sad puppy?
Thatdefinitelydidn’t sound like Cade.
Settled in a chair near the windows, I took my time sipping a mocha with Whiskey at my side. He’d been hesitant to venture more than a foot away from me at all times, but the second I finished my chocolate muffin, he took off to sit atop the highest cat tower in the café.
It was his favorite spot to judge everyone from.
The weight of looming bills and compounding debt finally helped me work up the nerve to reactivate my Sunshine Cuddle Services app profile. Since I’d broken my NDA with Cade, I doubted he’d pay me for the hours worked.
Guess I should’ve been a bit more thorough reading that contract.
When the app loaded, I stared at my schedule in stunned, open-mouth shock.
I was booked—fully booked—for the nextthree years.
And it was the same name staring me in the face from each booking, making my heart kick against my rib cage.
Cade Westbrook.
I rubbed my eyes and blinked to refocus, but I wasn’t seeing things. Cade had booked all my appointments through the next three years. All of them.
Every. Single. One.
Somehow, he’d even replaced my appointments with existing clients, which shouldn’t have been possible.