Ellie’s jaw dropped, and her gaze darted around the room. “Oh. Oh my gosh. Sadie was right. …Is this supposed to be a date? I didn’t think?—”
“No,” I cut in sharply. “Absolutely not.”
Her mouth snapped shut, and a soft snort escaped. “Okay, the ‘absolutely not’ wasn’t really necessary. But yes, I’m single.”
“Good. And have you always cuddled for a living?”
Ellie’s eyes narrowed.
“Not quite. I used to work here at Kitty’s,” she said. “I live in the small rental space above the café, so the commute was unbeatable.”
I tried to wrap my mind around living above a cat café, but nothing about it sounded appealing.
“How did you first get involved with the cuddling app?” I asked.
She hesitated, cocking her head. “Not that this isn’t fun, but are you a journalist or something? What’s with the twenty questions?”
“My offer depends on your answers.”
The curiosity in her gaze brightened, and she settled back in her chair.
“Okay. Well, I wasn’t making enough working here, so I looked for other ways to earn money during my off-hours. I tried selling my plasma, but they blacklisted me after the second time I fainted,” she explained with a wince. “Before my second appointment, a girl in the waiting room told me about gig apps and how there’s one for basically everything. You just need to find something you’re good at. Lucky for me, I’m really good at cuddling. Plus, it’s not as big of a deal if I pass out during those appointments.”
While I tried and failed to think of a response to that, a giant silver robotic cat on wheels whirred into the room and saved me from answering.
The machine was at least three feet tall and resembled a cartoon cat sitting on its haunches with a tray balanced in its front paws. Two mugs and a chocolate muffin sat on the tray.
It rolled up next to our table, barely stopping in time before it could crash into it.
Mac made it halfway over, but I held up a hand to stop him.
The thing was harmless.
“Thanks, Otis.” Ellie nodded to the robot. She set the black coffee in front of me, then grabbed the muffin and other mug for herself. “Mmm, mocha.”
I eyed the machine’s awkwardly long torso. “Otis?”
“Otis is our new server. Kitty thought a robot would attract more customers, but he’s mostly just been an insurance nightmare.” Ellie frowned. She’d barely finished speaking before Whiskey pounced on the robot and swiped at it with his paw. “Whiskey, no! Leave Otis alone.”
The cat backed off, but his eyes didn’t leave the motionless machine. His back arched, hair standing up, and he let out a low hiss.
“No,” Ellie repeated, but her attempt to sound commanding came out more like a harmless squeak.
The cat glanced up at her, unamused, then turned his back to us and sauntered away. His tail flicked the air with each silent step.
“Whiskey’s not the biggest fan of robots,” Ellie murmured. Her frown deepened. “Or vacuums.”
I cocked a brow. “Vacuums?”
“Yeah. My friend gave me a robot vacuum for Christmas last year to help with all the cat hair, and Whiskey thought it was Armageddon in our apartment.” She shook her head somberly, then added under her breath, “It’s really unfortunate that warranties don’t cover pet panic attacks.”
We were officially off-topic.
When the robot jerked backward and zoomed off in the opposite direction, I glanced at my watch. “Back to my questions. You mentioned roleplaying yesterday. Is acting something you have much experience in?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed. “Well, I’m not classically trained, if that’s what you mean. But, yes, I can handle roleplay.” She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling my attention down. “Where are you going with this, Cade?”
I carefully rolled my sleeves up, searching for the right way to word this and hoping I wouldn’t regret it.