Текст книги "The Taming of the Billionaire"
Автор книги: Jessica Clare
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Chapter Three
They drove the puttering car the hours it took to get into New York City proper, and then it seemed to take another hour to find a parking space. By the time they got out of the car, Edie’s knee was throbbing and she was starving. Bianca fixed her lipstick before they got out of the car, which made Edie curious. Then again, it was a rich guy, and Bianca was all about trying to snag herself a wealthy boyfriend. She’d harassed Edie about dressing up, and Edie’s only concession had been to take her hair out of her braids and throw an old blazer over her T-shirt, and the blazer was simply to hide the cat hair. Most clients didn’t care what she looked like as long as she could help them. They kept a box of work stuff in the back of the car, and Edie picked through it. Then, she stuffed toys, catnip, treats, and a few other items into a backpack and slung the pack over her shoulder. They walked down the side street, looking for the correct building. Edie limped behind Bianca as her sister consulted her phone’s GPS.
“Here we go,” Bianca said sunnily.
“Oh jeez,” said Edie, staring up at the townhouse. “It’s kind of swanky.” The building was on the corner of a rather elite-looking street, and that made Edie wonder if she should have changed out of a cat-hair-covered shirt after all. Hearing someone had oodles of money was different than seeing it.
“Told ya,” Bianca said smugly, and hopped up the steps to the front door. Edie leaned heavily on the railing and followed her up.
The door opened a moment later and a man appeared in the doorway. “Oh good,” said a familiar, smooth baritone voice. “You’re here.”
Edie stared at the man in the doorway. It was that Magnus guy from the party. One of the jerks. The one who had made comments about cat ladies. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Hi, Edie,” he said, extending his hand out. He gave her a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his face. “I’m glad you and your assistant could make it out today.”
“I’m not staying here,” Edie began.
“Yes, you are,” Bianca said, taking Edie by the arm and pulling her close despite her protests. Bianca gave Magnus a tiny little smile. “May we come inside?”
Edie looked at her sister in horror, planting her feet. “Wait. You knew it was this guy? Why didn’t you fucking tell me? This is a setup, isn’t it?”
Bianca gave Edie a hurt look, her lower lip quivering. “Of course not.”
“Bullshit.” Edie glared at Magnus. “What the fuck is this game?”
“This game,” he said in a cool voice, “is that I have a new cat and it is a nightmare. I can return it to the shelter and have them put it down, or I can call a cat behaviorist for help. Someone suggested you were the best in the area, and I thought I’d give it a try despite our past. Or shall I just take the animal back to the shelter right now?”
Edie’s gut churned. He was hitting her right in her soft spot. Somewhere in there was a shelter cat who’d just been taken out of one scary environment and into another. If she turned and walked away, he might find another cat behaviorist . . . or he might just take it back to the shelter.
She bit her lip, undecided. Then, scowling, she glared at Magnus. “If you’re a dick, I’m leaving.”
“I won’t be a dick,” he told her, putting his hands in the air in the universal “I surrender” gesture. “I promise. I just want to help my cat, all right?”
“All right,” she grumped, and ignored the happy look Bianca flashed Magnus.
Edie stepped over the threshold into the house. Inside, she immediately began to assess it how a scared cat would, and she frowned at the sight. The floors were a chilly painted cement, the walls bare and hung with a few pieces of modern art. The furniture was minimalist and strange, with a beaded (beaded!) throw rug in front of a glass fireplace. A shattered vase was in one corner of the open room, next to a few hanging twiglike things that she assumed were more modern art. She rubbed her scarf hard against her neck as she walked in, trying to cover it in her scent.
“Hey,” that annoying baritone voice said. “You okay? You’re limping.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m fine.”
“Do you need to sit down? I—”
“Do I look as if I need to sit down?” She bit out the words, glaring at him. Then she turned and glanced around. “Where did my sister go?”
He shrugged. “She went to go discuss payment with my brother, I imagine.” Big arms crossed his chest. “You want to see Cujo?”
“Cujo? Really?”
“What’s wrong with Cujo?”
“You’re setting up the cat to fail, that’s what. Giving him a undesirable moniker just reinforces the negativity in your eyes.” She tugged at her scarf again and limped into the kitchen. At least, she assumed it was the kitchen. It was set up more like an old-fashioned diner, with the long counter and barstools, and the fridge and appliances behind the bar.
“Annnd for the millionth time, he’s a damn cat, so who cares what I call him?” Magnus said, following her. “He’s in my bedroom, by the way.”
Well, that was a start at least. “Show me where that is.”
“Right this way, your majesty,” Magnus said, doing a mocking little bow as he moved in front of her. He headed to the back of the building and then up a twisting staircase.
Of course it was upstairs. There were always damn stairs. Edie ignored the throb of her knee and followed him as quickly as she could, not wanting to seem as if she needed help or was lagging behind. She didn’t want to be seen as “less” in his eyes, damn it. Not when he was so smirky and judgy already.
Upstairs, the barren motif continued, and Edie wondered why someone would get such a big house to put hardly anything in it. Magnus strode down the hall toward a closed door, and then turned and gestured at it. “This is my room. Last chance now to back out.”
“Why? Am I going to be bombarded with blow-up dolls or something?”
“No, just one super pissed-off cat,” he said, his tone as sarcastic as hers. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Magnus opened the door and Edie stepped inside. It . . . wasn’t what she expected his room to look like. She knew he was into computers and his big shoulders and muscular build spoke of an athletic lifestyle. But again, he had the minimal room set up with hardly any furniture. There was a treadmill desk in one corner of the room, a big brass bed off to one side and some strange-looking scarves covering the window that trailed onto the floor. One was slightly destroyed, and the other puffed out at the bottom, a tail flicking underneath.
That would be her charge.
Edie slid off her shoes since the floor here was wood and they’d make a lot of unnecessary noise. Her stockinged feet wiggled and she stepped forward, eyeing the room. “This is a rather unfriendly place for a cat.”
“Why’s that?” Magnus’s deep voice made her jump. She didn’t realize he was so close behind her.
She gestured at all the empty air. “There’s no place for him to hide. Did you just move in or something? There’s no furniture.”
“It’s called a minimalist look,” Magnus said, and he sounded as if she’d insulted his decorating. “The last owner of this place was an artist. We paid a lot of money to buy the place.”
“I’d have paid more for some furniture,” Edie commented, studying the bed. “I would have thought he’d go under the bed, but—”
“There’s storage under there. No room.”
“Cats like having a secure place to hide, you know. He’s probably terrified.”
“He’s a demon,” Magnus said in that grumpy voice. “You know he bit me?”
“Were you trying to pick him up?”
“How do you think I got him in here?”
Her heart softened. Poor cat. “He’s scared. Don’t make any sudden movements, okay? I’m going to go say hello.” She slung her backpack off of her shoulder and set it next to her shoes, and then padded forward. Her bad knee throbbed as she knelt next to the curtain, but she ignored it. She sat down and crossed her legs, then tugged her scarf off and folded it neatly, then placed it near the curtain.
A paw swiped out, and the low growl started.
That was okay. She’d be patient and wait. Edie settled her back against the wall a few feet away and stretched her bad knee out, rubbing it.
“You want a chair or something?” Magnus said, clearly uncomfortable standing around. He had his arms crossed over his chest again.
“No, on the floor is good,” she said, her gaze on that huddled form behind the curtain. “It makes me less frightening. Where’s his litterbox?”
Magnus was silent.
She looked over at him again. “Well?”
“Uh, I haven’t gotten one yet.”
Seriously? What kind of cat owner was he? She looked around at the room again, and then her lips twitched. “That might explain why he took a shit on your bed, then.”
“What?” Magnus barked, striding toward his bed and the white coverlet with a brown stain on the end.
“Don’t raise your voice,” Edie said, keeping hers low and soothing. She set her hand on the floor and stretched her fingers between her scarf and the wall. “Dumbass.”
“He crapped on my bed,” Magnus whispered. “That’s disgusting!”
“He’s an animal,” she said, keeping her voice soft and sweet—kind of like Bianca’s fake tones. “That’s what he does when no outlet is provided for him.” The cat wasn’t moving, so she decided to keep waiting. She’d give him more time. Sometimes cats needed a lot of time, especially when the new environment was frightening. And hell, this one wasn’t even welcoming to people. “You might as well take a seat,” she murmured. “It might take him a bit to come out.”
A clattering sound made her grit her teeth, and she looked over to see Magnus removing his shoes and then taking a seat on the floor across the room, mimicking her pose as she leaned against the wall. He looked . . . annoyed. Not concerned for his cat like any good pet owner. Strange man.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the curtain move a little, saw a nose stick out to sniff her scarf. Well, that was promising. Daring greatly, she kept her movements slow and peeled the curtain back, revealing the hissing occupant.
The cat was utterly terrified, which broke Edie’s heart. Drool leaked from its mouth and it panted, a sure sign of anxiety and stress. The warning rumble continued in his throat, so Edie didn’t reach for him. She did, however, study the cat’s markings, the tufted ears, the size of him, and looked over at Magnus, frowning. “What made you pick this cat out of the shelter?”
He shrugged. “Felt like having a cat.”
Her brows drew together. “No, I mean, why this cat?”
He shrugged again. “Why?”
“Because it’s a Savannah cat.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“You, sir, have picked out a breed that is half wildcat.” Her mouth curved into an amused smile. “Good luck with that.”
***
Magnus couldn’t stop watching Edie. When she wasn’t sniping at him or lashing out with that forked tongue of hers, she was . . . interesting. He wanted to know more about why she limped. It was natural curiosity, being an athlete himself once upon a time. He’d had dozens of injuries when he’d played football, from a torn ligament to a sprained ankle to whatever his opponents could dish out. A knee that injured . . . something bad had happened to it or she’d been born that way. Either way, it was a curiosity, and he wanted to know what had happened. Maybe it was why she was so damn cranky all the damn time.
That overarching crankiness was what made her so fascinating to watch right now. Her fingers were gentle as the cat reluctantly pushed its head out, and she extended them toward the cat. Not moving more than that. Just waiting. And he leaned back to watch her, because it was more riveting than anything he’d seen in a long time. Minutes passed as the cat sniffed her fingertips, sniffed her scarf again, and then moved forward a tiny bit. It crept forward, shoulders hunched, and kept slowly moving until it was near Edie’s leg. She gave it a cautious head skritch, and when the cat decided it liked that, it moved forward a bit more. Within the space of about twenty minutes, she had the cat resting on her lap and relaxing as she rubbed and petted it.
“I think this is a young cat,” she said in a slow, sweet voice that was like liquid honey on the senses. He knew the voice was for the cat’s benefit, but his dick still responded to it. “She’s frightened, but she also wants love and attention.”
“Isn’t that what we all want?” He joked back, and his voice must have been too loud, because the cat jolted, earning him an ugly look from Edie.
“This sort of thing takes time, you know,” she murmured again, her hands gently stroking the alert ears, smoothing over striped fur. “You’re free to leave at any time.”
“I’ll stick around,” he said, modulating his voice to match her sweetness. “It’s my cat, remember?” That, and he’d told Levi he’d keep Edie occupied for at least two hours so Levi could nail Bianca or at the very least, get her out of his system. “So what’s a Savannah cat?”
“They’re a cat that’s part serval and part house cat. Yours looks like it’s probably an F2.” She touched the large ears and the stripes crossing them, then gestured at the ones on the cat’s muzzle. “The markings aren’t as crisp.”
“And what’s an F2?”
“Second generation, basically. Your cat probably has a granddaddy wildcat somewhere.”
“Huh,” he said, since it all seemed a little technical for what looked like a stripey little cat to him. “So . . . do I feed her different things? Like gazelle?”
Edie’s look was withering again, and he bit back a grin of amusement. He liked getting that rise out of her. Seeing that scorn quickly fly to her face. She was easy to tease. “You can feed the cat normal food,” she said. “Find out if Cujo here”—again with the withering look—“likes hard food or wet food. If she favors her teeth or seems picky or afraid to eat, try to get wet food into her so she doesn’t get dehydrated.”
“I’ll send my assistant out for some,” he agreed. “And litter.”
She shook her head, just a bit. “You’re not very prepared to have a new member of your home.”
Yeah, that was probably because he hadn’t been anticipating having a damn cat. Fucking Levi and his schemes, all so he could bang the blonde with the tiny mouth. “I’ll be better prepared next time,” Magnus said. “So, what made you decide to become a cat expert?”
Her long fingers stroked over an ear, and for some reason, Magnus found that small movement . . . arousing. Maybe it was how the cat responded, or the fact that she seemed to know just where to touch the cat to make it purr. Maybe it’d been too long since he’d had sex, because it was fucking sad if he was getting turned on watching Edie pet a cat. But the sight of those expert hands had him shifting in his seat and resisting the urge to adjust his crotch.
“Why do you care?” she murmured in that dulcet voice, and he had to adjust his seating again.
“Maybe I’m just passing the time with you. Trying to shoot the shit and all.”
“You don’t have to shoot anything with me.” The cat leaned into her hand, much like his dick wanted to. Christ, his dick especially wanted to when that made Edie’s mouth curl into a soft, pleased little smile. How had he not noticed that her lips were full and plump, her upper lip slightly larger than her lower one? Her mouth was perfection, what so many women injected to try and get theirs to look like. Edie didn’t seem like the type to fuss over her appearance, which meant that those pillowy lips were probably all natural . . . and would feel amazing around his dick.
And why he was suddenly thinking about his dick when she was around, he had no fucking idea, but now he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. He shifted in his seat again, drawing up a knee to hide the fact that he was getting an erection.
At his small movement, Cujo hissed and darted back under the curtain again, and Edie shot him an irritated look.
“Sorry.”
She gave her head a little shake, as if to say Whatever, and slowly, painfully got to her feet. When she was standing again, she leaned over and gave her knee a little rub, and as she did, her collar swung low, exposing her impressive cleavage to his gaze.
Aw, damn. She had a rocking bod under all those clothes. Maybe Levi was trying to nail the wrong sister after all.
But a moment later she straightened, and fixed an imperious look on him. “All right. I have a to-do list for you to handle over the next few days.”
“What? A to-do list? Why?”
She looked surprised. “Because it’s your cat, of course.” She gestured at his room. “This isn’t going to work at all, just so you know.”
Forget his stupid dick. Now he was just getting annoyed. “What do you mean, ‘this’ isn’t going to work?” He mimicked her gesture, flinging his hand in the air.
Edie gave him another one of those quelling looks. “He’s frightened—”
“So now it’s a he?”
“I don’t know what it is until I get a chance to lift his or her tail to see—”
“I just find it a little ironic that when you get pissy, the cat’s a ‘he’ but when you’re all lovey-dovey on it, it’s a ‘she.’”
He watched her small nostrils flare with irritation and he was fascinated despite himself. “Fine, we’ll go with ‘it’ then. I want it to stay in this room for the time being. Your house is enormous—”
“Why thank you. I love it when ladies admire the size of my . . . house.”
“Would you fucking shut up for two seconds?”
He was getting under Miss Prickly’s skin, was he? Funny how entertaining that was. Magnus grinned and gestured that she continue.
“As I was saying, dickface, don’t let it out into the rest of the house. Cats need a small area to become accustomed to before you expand their territory. Keep your door shut and keep Cujo in this room. Also,” she said, and gestured at his furniture. “You need to add some places for Cujo to hide. Get rid of the storage under the bed. Put a few cat trees in here with hiding spots. Even a few deep cardboard boxes placed in strategic areas will help. Right now Cujo has no place to hide and is feeling vulnerable. You need to give it safe places to retreat to.”
“I don’t want all that shit in here. I like my room the way it is,” he told her, his irritation rising at her high-handed comments. “It’s minimalist.”
“It’s ugly,” she said bluntly. “And it’s unwelcoming.”
“I’m not trying to make you welcome,” he lashed back.
“For the cat, you fool. And get that litterbox unless you want the cat to stake out your bed as the place to go to the bathroom.” Her bitter little smile at him became wicked. “Though I’m sure your bed is used to seeing pieces of shit.”
Talking to her was like petting a scorpion. “Are you done here?”
“That’s my consultation,” she said, voice cloyingly sweet. “Also, try to spend a few hours a day with Cujo. No sudden movements. Let the cat come to you. Pet only when Cujo seems to want it. Don’t reach for the face when you do, reach around the cat’s side because some cats get nervous when you go for the face.”
“Anything else?” he asked sarcastically.
“Yes. I’d like to be paid now.”
***
A short time later, the check was handed to Bianca, who left with grumpy Edie. By that time, Magnus was grumpy as fuck, too, and his irritation was directed at his brother, Levi, who seemed to be over the moon at the moment. Levi had a blissful look on his face, and his hair was a mess, as if someone had been running her hands through it.
Once the women were out of the house, Magnus turned to his brother. “Did you nail her? Can we be done with this shit now?”
Levi linked his fingers behind his head and just gave his brother a happy smile. “She’s wonderful, isn’t she?”
“Actually, she’s kind of a beat down,” Magnus said. “Edie, that is. Which is why I want to be done with this.”
“We can’t,” Levi said. He yawned and padded to the kitchen and opened the door to the fridge. “I’ve barely gotten to know Bianca. Two hours wasn’t enough time with her.”
“It was enough time to fuck her.”
Levi gave his brother a tight-lipped stare. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
Jesus. Not this again. “So . . . you didn’t fuck her.”
“She’s not that kind of girl. We talked. I got to know her a bit more.” Levi picked up the milk and began to drink straight from the carton.
Magnus stormed up to his brother and swiped the milk out of his hand. “First of all, don’t do that, because it’s disgusting. Second of all, this wasn’t about getting to know the girl. This was about getting her out of your system.”
Levi didn’t even look hurt at Magnus’s pissy mood. He just gave his brother a beatific smile. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to get Bianca out of my system. She’s special.”
“You say that about every girl you fall for.”
“This one’s different.”
“You also say that about every girl you fall for.” Magnus closed the milk carton and reached past his brother to put it back into the fridge. “Except instead of just getting this one out of your system, you’ve decided to be her friend, and meanwhile, I get stuck with a wildcat and a pissy cat whisperer.”
“You should woo her,” Levi said.
“The cat?”
“The cat lady.”
Magnus gritted his teeth through his smile. “I don’t want to woo anyone. I want to push forward on our goddamn project. You know, the one you promised to work on with me?”
“And once Bianca and I are settled, I will.”
Settled? What the fuck did that mean? Magnus fought his anger, since it was useless when it came to Levi. His younger brother had selective amnesia when it came to anything that didn’t pertain to his current interests. “How long do you think that’s going to be?”
“I don’t know,” Levi said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I need to see her again outside of the house. Away from her sister.” He looked over at Magnus. “You should ask Edie out on a date.”
“On a date,” Magnus repeated flatly. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you want to work on The World and you can’t without me?”
Magnus gritted his teeth. It wasn’t that he couldn’t work without Levi—it was that out of the two of them, Levi was the creative thinker. Magnus was the doer, the details man. He could get a lot done on his own, but without Levi’s ideas, he was rudderless. “You’re fucking killing me here, man.”
Levi turned to his brother and put his hands on Magnus’s shoulders, his expression contrite. “I know. And I really am sorry. I promise once we get Bianca out from under Edie’s control, we’ll get back to working on the game. But for now . . . I really do think you need to ask Edie out on a date. Take her out for several hours so that’ll give me alone time with Bianca.”
“She’s not twelve, you know. She can go out on her own without her sister being involved.”
But Levi shook his head and patted Magnus on the shoulder as if he were a child. “Bianca’s very devoted. She won’t leave Edie if she thinks Edie needs help.”
“Edie seems pretty capable, if you ask me. She’s got a limp. That’s it. It’s not as if she’s missing her arms and legs.” Even if she was, he was pretty sure Edie would still find a way to cut him down to size. “I’ve never met anyone more capable than her.”
“Did you want that IP or not?”
Magnus threw his hands up. “I give up. Fine. Fuck. Whatever. I’ll ask the cat lady out for a goddamn date. Just shut the hell up about Bianca, all right?” He stormed up the stairs, because if he saw Levi’s smug little smile, he was going to punch someone out. He automatically headed up to the fourth floor for the office, and then paused at the door. He couldn’t work—he was stuck until Levi sat down and worked out some of the basic kinks of the program with him. Damn it. Swearing, he jogged back down the stairs to his own room. Might as well run on his treadmill for a bit.
When he opened the door to his room, though, he saw the cat taking another shit on his bed. It looked over at him and hissed furiously.
Magnus hissed back at it. Damn cat. Damn brother. Damn Edie. Why was everyone determined to make him lose his mind? Why was he the only sane person in this circle? Why was it that he was the only one who wanted to work?
Scratch that. Edie worked, too. At least they had that in common.
He dragged his jeans off and tossed them into a corner, then pulled on workout shorts. As he climbed onto his treadmill and began to jog, he picked up his phone and voice-texted Jenna, the assistant. “I need several cardboard boxes, two cat trees, some wet cat food, and a litterbox. Tonight.” He looked over at his bed, now with two piles of shit on it, and added, “And a blanket.”
At least five hundred million could buy a lot of damn blankets. He began to run, pumping up the treadmill to a breakneck speed. Maybe he’d buy one and smother Levi’s smug face with it.
***
“What’s your day look like today?” Bianca said, frowning as a cat nudged her hand over breakfast two days later. “Can’t you make these cats behave?”
“That is behaving,” Edie said, reaching out to pet Sleepy before pulling him down off the table. “I’m actually pretty impressed he’s so spry considering he’s missing a leg and has arthritis. Besides, you know downstairs is cat territory.” Their shared apartment was split into two territories—Bianca had the entire upstairs, and Edie claimed the downstairs. It suited them both just fine most of the time, because Bianca got the deluxe bathroom with the tub and Edie only had the guest bathroom with the teeny tiny shower. The kitchen was downstairs, though, and meals were always a bit contentious, because Edie’s seven cats tended to be underfoot.
“I’d prefer for him to be less spry around meals,” Bianca said, tossing her hair. “It’s unsanitary.”
No more unsanitary than Bianca constantly flinging her hair everywhere. “Cats are clean. It’s because you have cereal. He smells the milk.”
“Forget the cat. We’ve been asked to go back to New York for another round of coaching with Cujo.” Bianca gave Edie her prettiest smile. “Get ready to make more money!”
Edie blinked. “Really? Back to New York already? Magnus has barely had time to get the things I suggested.” She thought of his stark room and frowned. “Actually, I’d almost bet he didn’t get that stuff. He didn’t seem to care much. That’s so weird.”
Bianca gave her a coy little smile. “I don’t think it’s so weird.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s clear the man was flirting with you.”
Edie paused, spoon midway to her mouth. “You’re . . . kidding, right?”
“Not kidding.”
“He can’t stand me!”
“Mmhmm.” Bianca gave her a knowing look.
“I—no! Seriously. He hated every suggestion I gave him. Didn’t want to listen to any of it. I can assure you, the man does not like me.” It was weird to even think about it.
“Oh, Edie, you’re so blind to these sorts of things,” Bianca said in a pitying voice. She arched an eyebrow at her sister. “Let’s analyze this, shall we? Here we have a man who you met at a party and sat next to all night—”
“Neither of us speaking to the other, I should point out.”
“—and a few days later, this man acquires a random cat he knows nothing about.” Bianca extended a finger, counting off. “This man immediately contacts you to come and work with his cat, even offering to pay extra so you’ll come despite the long drive.”
“Oh, but—”
“Did he leave the room while you were there?”
“No, but—”
“Did you notice that I disappeared? His brother kept me busy with questions about the business and our billing. You don’t think he was seriously that interested in it, do you?”
This time, Edie had no excuse. She had wondered where her sister had run off to.
“Did he ask about you when you two were alone? Things like what made you who you are? Personal things?”
“Of course not,” Edie said, flustered. It was ridiculous to think about—
So what made you decide to become a cat expert? Her brain reminded her using Magnus’s voice.
Edie’s eyes widened. Surely not. “I . . . Uh, are you sure, Bianca?”
“I think I know what it looks like when a man is trying to let a woman know he’s interested. And I’m pretty sure he was interested in you.” Her smile became encouraging. “It’s obvious he got the cat as a means to get closer to you.”
That was so . . . strange. Edie thought back to the party at Gretchen’s house. She’d overheard their boorish male conversation in the kitchens, and both she and Magnus had been dismayed to see they were sitting together. They’d taken a seemingly instant dislike to each other, one that had carried through all night.
And yet . . . everything Bianca pointed out had a grain of truth in it. Pieced together like that, Bianca’s suggestion made sense. It was a weird situation and there was no logical explanation for it, unless it was that Magnus really was trying to get Edie’s attention.
But . . . why go for Edie when Bianca was right there? Edie knew she wasn’t the pretty sister. She wasn’t dog-ugly, of course, but she wasn’t as into hair and makeup as Bianca was. She wore jeans and T-shirts when Bianca wore skirts and blouses. Edie’s brown wavy hair was chopped at the shoulders and usually kept in two short braids tucked out of the way behind her ears. Bianca had perfect, smooth hair the color of champagne and cut in a heavy fringe across her forehead that made her big brown eyes look even bigger. They had the same heart-shaped face, but Bianca had a tiny, sweet mouth, whereas Edie just had a normal-sized one that was never sweet.
And Bianca didn’t limp. She was graceful and delicate, unlike Edie.
And Bianca wasn’t a raging bitch to everyone, unlike Edie.
“I . . . Are you sure he doesn’t like you instead of me?” Edie asked, completely puzzled. She’d called the man dickface. She’d insulted his house, his looks, and shot down every friendly word he sent in her direction.
“Please,” Bianca said daintily. “He barely spent two seconds in my presence. He was too busy focused on someone else.” Her mouth curved into another tiny, knowing smile. “And he asked you back today.”
Edie squirmed in her seat. “We should tell him we’re busy.”
“We”—Bianca emphasized the word—“should say nothing of the sort. I can drop you off at his house and—”
“Wait, what?”
“—and run a few errands in the city. Take some extra supplies to the cat shelters. Look for special-project cats you might need to save.” Bianca blinked wide, guileless eyes at her sister. “It’ll give you some time alone.”
“Bianca, no,” Edie said. “If we go over there again, I—we—he’ll—”
