Hot Stuff

Chapter THREE

At ten minutes to five, Cate rushed out of the condo and ran into Pugg, still waiting in the hall.

“What the heck?” Cate said.

“Pugg got off work at four, so Pugg came back.”

Marty was long gone, but an hour ago Cate had gotten another hang up, so she thought running into Pugg might be an okay thing. Truth is, she was feeling a little freaked out by Marty and the phone calls, and she wouldn’t mind having someone walk out of the building with her.

“Here’s the deal,” Cate said. “The boyfriend-girlfriend thing isn’t going to work for us, but we could be friends.”

“Pugg was in the market for a girlfriend.”

Cate checked her watch. She was going to be late. “Pugg’s going to have to settle,” Cate said.

“If we’re just friends, does Pugg get any?”

“Any what?”

“You know… whoopee do. Does Pugg get to hide the salami? Pugg has needs.”

“Pugg’s going to have to take care of his own needs,” Cate said, heading for the elevator.

“Will you watch?”

“No!”

Seconds later, Cate was on the street, head down, power walking to Evian’s.

“Cate has long legs,” Pugg said, trotting beside Cate and breathing heavily, trying to keep up. “Pugg likes that in a woman.”

Cate stopped outside the bar and looked at Pugg. He was an obnoxious little bugger, but she had to give him points for persistence and a positive attitude.

“Thanks for walking me to the bar,” Cate said.

“Pugg will stay here and walk you home.”

“No walking home,” Cate said. “None. Nada. No way.”

“Pugg doesn’t understand no.”

Cate blew out a sigh and went into the building.

Thirty minutes before closing, Kellen McBride walked in and claimed a bar stool. Cate’s heart involuntarily skipped a beat, and she mentally scolded herself about getting a grip. Okay, so he was a great-looking guy. And he was charming. And he was a flirt. All fun things, but no reason to get unhinged.

“Pick your poison,” Cate said to him.

“Surprise me.”

Cate drew a draft and started a tab.

“Not a lot going on tonight,” Kellen said.

“Marty isn’t singing. Customers always drop off when Marty isn’t here.”

“Are you friendly with Marty?”

“Moderately. Why, do you want an introduction?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m just making conversation. Don’t want you to nod off on your shift.”

Cate looked down the bar. Less than half the stools were in use. And no one required her attention. Everyone was nursing a drink and watching the overhead television.

“So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” Kellen asked.

“I’m putting myself through college,” Cate said. “It’s perfect. I work nights and go to school days. It’s between semesters right now so I’m kind of lost during the day. I’m not used to having free time.”

“I could help with the free time,” Kellen said.

“Spoken like my brother’s banker.”

“I occasionally work for a bank, but I’m not a banker. And I don’t know your brother.”

“Swear on the blood of your ancestors?”

“That sounds a little grim, even for an Irish girl, but yeah, I swear. What’s the deal with the banker?”

“My family is working hard to find me a husband. They mean well, but I don’t want a husband right now.”

Oh great, Kellen thought, doing a mental grimace. The woman had principles, worthy goals, and determination. Not only did she have those big, beautiful brown eyes, she had some intelligence behind them. Just what he didn’t need.

“You have other priorities… like school.”

“Exactly.”

Cate caught movement in her peripheral vision and turned to catch Pugg motoring over to the bar.

“What’s this?” Pugg asked, pulling up next to Kellen. “Pugg senses someone moving in on his squeeze.”

Kellen looked down at Pugg and smiled. “Kellen McBride,” he said, extending his hand.

“Patrick Pugg.”

“I’m not your squeeze,” Cate said to Pugg, her voice low, hoping to avoid a scene.

“Pugg has plans.”

“Pugg is a nut,” Cate said, just slightly louder.

“Many people have said this to Pugg, but Pugg is not deterred so easily. Pugg will be waiting outside to walk you home.”

“No!” Cate said. “And if you tell me Pugg doesn’t understand no, I’ll have you bodily evicted from the bar.”

“Then Pugg’s lips are sealed, but you know what Pugg is thinking.”

“I’m walking Cate home,” Kellen said to Pugg.

“Pugg doesn’t believe this.”

“It’s true,” Cate said. “He’s my… boyfriend.”

“Pugg was told you were available. Pugg was told you were desperate for a roll in the hay. Maybe not in so many words, but Pugg felt it was implied.”

“Kellen and I roll in the hay a lot,” Cate said.

“Cate’s mother didn’t tell any of this to Pugg.”

“She doesn’t know,” Cate said. “Kellen is a secret. I didn’t think my mother would approve.”

“Why wouldn’t your mother approve?” Pugg asked.

“It’s my job,” Kellen said. “I kill people. It pays well, but it’s not universally socially acceptable.”

“Pugg thinks you might be pulling Pugg’s leg, but then Pugg isn’t entirely sure. You could look like a killer. Pugg will wait outside and watch from a respectful distance.”

“Do I really look like a killer?” Kellen asked Cate.

Cate studied him. He had laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, but there was something else there, too. Grit, Cate thought. He was older than she was, and had seen more of life. And she suspected not all of what he’d seen had been good. “You don’t look like a killer,” Cate said, “but you look like you could kill if you had to.”

There was no change in Kellen’s expression. His eyes were steady and noncommittal, and his mouth remained soft with a hint of a smile at the corners. And Cate knew she was frighteningly close to the truth.

“I’ll wait and walk you out,” Kellen said. “Don’t want you to look like a big fibber.”

“Thanks,” Cate said, wondering if she might not have been safer with Pugg.

Evian’s closed at eleven on Mondays. Gerald Evian, owner in residence, dimmed the lights at 10:50, and the few remaining customers silently left their stools and wandered out. By five after eleven the registers were empty, the bottles were capped, and all the glasses were clean. Evian unlocked the door for Cate and Kellen, and they stepped out of the cool bar air into the warm night.

Pugg was waiting on the sidewalk. “Pugg decided there was something fishy going on, so Pugg is waiting to be convinced,” Pugg said.

Kellen pulled Cate to him and kissed her. It was gentle and lingering, and there was just a touch of tongue. Not so much that Cate felt he deserved a knee in the groin, but enough to give her an unexpected rush.

“Okay,” Pugg said. “Pugg is temporarily convinced. Cate didn’t drop-kick Kellen when Kellen kissed her, but Pugg still thinks there’s something rotten in Denmark. Are you sure you don’t want Pugg to walk you home, too?” he asked Cate.

“I’ll be fine,” Cate said, “but thank you for offering.”

“Pugg would put himself at personal risk for you. Pugg would carry you over mud puddles and walk on burning coals. Pugg would fly you to the moon.”

“Gotta go now,” Cate said, inching away.

“Pugg would climb the highest mountain. Pugg would rush into a burning building. Pugg would share his dessert.”

Cate and Kellen were half a block away, but they could still hear Pugg.

“Pugg would kill spiders and snakes and slugs and yucky things. Pugg would let you spank him.”

Kellen burst out laughing, and Cate clapped her hands over her ears and sprinted across the street.

Four blocks later, Cate stopped in front of Marty’s condo building. “I’m sorry about Pugg.”

“He’s okay,” Kellen said. “He’s just trying too hard. He needs to chill a little.” Kellen glanced at the building. “Is this where you live?”

“Yes. I sublet a room from someone.”

“I don’t suppose you’d want to invite me up.”

“No, but I appreciate the rescue from Pugg.”

“Another kiss?”

Cate smiled and key-fobbed the secure door open. “One was enough.”

“Not for me,” Kellen said. And it occurred to him that he might be in over his head on this one. He was liking Cate Madigan way too much.

The morning had been quiet so far. No threatening phone calls. No impromptu visits from Patrick Pugg. Marty was gone, and he hadn’t been specific about his return. It was a little after nine, and in the silent condo, with little to distract her, Cate was having a hard time forgetting Kellen McBride and the kiss. Truth was, it had been a fantastic, spectacular kiss.

Cate’s intercom buzzed, and her first reaction was to mutter a small prayer that it wasn’t Pugg.

“Yes?” she said into the intercom.

“Delivery for Martin Longfellow.”

Cate pushed the button to open the downstairs door. “Come on up.”

Minutes later, when the doorbell chimed, Cate opened the door with her coffee in hand and gaped at the man and dog standing in the hall. The man was average height and weight, wearing a shirt that said Rudy’s Security. The dog was a huge, slobbering beast.

“Dog delivery,” the man said.

“You have the wrong apartment.”

“It says here on the form that I gotta take him to 4A, and this here’s 4A.”

“Yes, but I didn’t order a dog.”

“Well, sweetheart, someone did.” He ripped the top sheet off the form and handed it to Cate. “Looks like the dog was bought by a guy named Marty Longfellow. I got a packet for you too. All the papers are in the packet.”

“No way.”

“Your lucky day, huh?”

“He’s going to have to go back.”

“Sorry, no returns. It says right on the bottom of the form, Rudy isn’t responsible for family disagreements. You bought him, and you got him.”

“But I didn’t buy him!”

“Does Marty Longfellow live here?”

“Yes.”

“End of argument.” He handed the leash to Cate. “Have a nice day, lady. I got a bag of food here in the hall. It comes with the dog. Rudy likes to see his dogs get off to a good start. Don’t want him getting hungry and eating the dining room table, right?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Sort of.” He threw the bag of food into the condo foyer and the dog took off for the bag. “Look at that,” the man said. “He’s making himself right at home.” And he backed up and closed the door.

Cate wrenched the door open and caught a glimpse of Rudy’s dog deliverer running down the hall. He punched the elevator button, the doors opened, and he jumped in. Cate blew out a sigh, closed and locked her door, and turned to the dog. The dog was sniffing around the bag of food, pawing it with his foot, and wagging his tail.

Cate opened the packet of information and shuffled through the papers. “It says here you’re a Bullmastiff, and your name is Beast. That figures.”

The dog’s hair was short, and a mixture of brown and black. His nose was smushed in like a bulldog’s. His ears were droopy. His neck was thick. His eyes were brown and soulful. He had a slight overbite and bags under his eyes. The top of his head was almost at Cate’s hip, and Cate guessed he weighed maybe 120 pounds.

“This is bad,” Cate said to Beast. “I know nothing about dogs. I’ve never had a dog. And don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a dog and a half.”

Also in the packet was a note-sized envelope addressed to Cate. She recognized Marty’s scrawl, opened the envelope, and read the note.

Dear Cate,

I had to take off in such a rush, and then was so worried that you were alone in my condo fielding all those dreadful phone calls, that I took matters into my own hands and asked my friend Rudy to deliver one of his wonderful, specially trained guard dogs to keep you company. Not that I think anyone calling my number would actually be dangerous, but goodness, one can never be too careful these days. I know you’ll get along famously with Rudy’s dog and take good care of him until I return. Give him hugs for me and tell him daddy will be home soon.

Marty

Cate turned to the wall and rapped her forehead against it. Bang, bang, bang. “I don’t need this,” Cate said. “School starts in two weeks. What will I do if Marty isn’t home by then? What will I do now? I don’t think I like dogs. I’ve never had a dog relationship. And this dog is so big. And he’s not even attractive. And listen to me… I’m talking to myself.”

Cate dialed Marty’s cell phone and got his message service.

“Marty,” Cate said, “I know you meant well, but I don’t want a dog. I don’t know what to do with a dog. And this dog is huge. You have to get Rudy to take him back.”

Cate looked at Beast. “Sorry you had to hear that, but you’ve probably been there before. I bet you’ve been rejected a lot, what with being so big and… you know, not cute.”

Beast stopped clawing at the dog food bag and looked at Cate. He shook his head, and slobber escaped from his floppy lips and flew in all directions. He tried to scratch his ear with his back foot and fell over.

Holy cow, Cate thought. This dog is beyond not cute. This is a dog disaster.

Cate called Sharon. “I have a problem. Marty bought a dog, and I’ve got him here, and I don’t know what to do with him. Do you know anything about dogs?”

“I know that the food goes in and then the food goes out, and you have to scoop it up in a plastic sandwich bag or you get a ticket. And that’s why I don’t have a dog. What kind of dog is it?”

“Bullmastiff.”

“Forget the sandwich bag. You want to go with the gallon size. I’m in the middle of something here. I’ll stop over when I get home.”