He sighed. “Yeah. Me too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Levi?”
“You mean that night in the hospital? He was a patient. HIPAA and all that . . .”
She nodded. “And after?”
He looked at her. “Until right this very minute, I didn’t realize there was anything to talk about.”
Crap. “There isn’t.”
He laughed. “Uh-huh. You do realize you’re about as forthcoming with your emotions as Charlotte, right?”
“Pretty sure I’m worse,” she admitted.
“Yeah, well, knowing it is half the battle.” He paused. “Levi seem okay?”
She met his eyes and saw genuine concern. “He says his headaches and dizziness are mostly gone.”
“I didn’t mean that. I mean . . . shit.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m not as bad at this as you and Charlotte are, but I’m not good at it either.”
“You’re worried about him.”
“He cut himself off from friends and family, like maybe he thought he didn’t deserve that kind of connection. Which is bullshit, of course. I’m glad he’s back, but he’s still here only because of the gondola accident.”
“You think he’s going to vanish again?”
“Well, not until you go anyway.”
“So you do know something.” She shook her head. “It’s not like that.”
“I hope you’re wrong.”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “But I’m just pretending to be his girlfriend for some family dinner.”
Mateo stared at her and then grinned. “Oh, man. You’re so in over your head.”
“Why? Is his family awful?”
“No. They’re amazing.”
Her phone pinged an incoming voice mail. It was from the local humane society, offering free shots for rescue animals. The email went on to stress the importance of keeping the immunizations of rescue pets current so they remained healthy, and offered a phone number to call for a free appointment. She looked over at Mateo. “Should I get Cat his shots even though he’s not mine?”
“Yes, and yes he is.”
She hit the number and was surprised to get an opening for five o’clock. “I don’t have a cat carrier,” she realized when she’d disconnected.
“Charlotte has one in her garage. I don’t know why. I think a previous renter had a cat.”
So that’s how Jane found herself after work wrestling Cat into the carrier she did indeed find in Charlotte’s garage. He went into it willingly enough, but narrowed his eyes at her when she shut the crate’s door.
Then proceeded to howl his displeasure all the way to the animal shelter.
“Free,” Jane told him via the rearview window. “And it’s important to your health that you get your shots.”
He had a lot to say about this, but she carried him into the shelter anyway, still yowling his displeasure.
The woman at the front desk looked up and smiled. “Oh my,” she said. “He’s got quite a voice.”
“Sorry, and yes, he does. My name’s Jane, and I have an appointment.”
The woman’s smile widened, her eyes friendly behind a pair of bright blue glasses. “Hello, Jane, how lovely to meet you. I’m Shirl. We didn’t actually get the name of your lovely cat.”