Page 98 of The Muse
“Did you happen to see any bottles like he got into someone’s medication? Cleaning supplies? Anything like that?”
Again, I shake my head.
Loki lies on his side and starts to purr. Great. He’s probably fine, and this guy thinks we’re wasting his time.
“Did the Rawlings mention if he’s had any recent change in diet?”
“I’ve seen her give him the same food since she adopted him. Some food that says ‘human grade’ on the outside. He seems to enjoy it. So if she changed his food, she did so since his first meal today. I can text her to ask.”
Dr. Schreiber slowly shakes his head, focusing on Loki. “I’ll draw some blood just to rule out anything serious. Then he can have water, but no food for twelve hours. Have Mrs. Rawlings call me with an update or if there are any changes. When she starts him back on food, make sure it’s something bland like small amounts of boiled chicken. If anything changes, he’ll need to come back in for imaging to check for obstructions or tumors. But after examining him, I don’t see any cause for concern. So let’s monitor him.” He continues to pet Loki. “And make sure he doesn’t get into anything. Okay?”
Okay? He’s not my cat. Does this guy really think I’m going to sternly warn Callie about keeping a close eye on him?
“Thank you,” June says while I have a stare-off with the doctor.
He won’t even look at June. If this guy doesn’t giveherattention, not so much as a smile or nod of acknowledgment, then he’s whacked. That’s all there is to it.
Thirty minutes later, we leave with a purring cat. Normal blood work. And the look on Dr. Schreiber’s face is less than friendly, like we made everything up.
“Entitled son of a bitch,” I mumble, when we get into the car, and I text Callie.
Flynn: On our way back to the house. Loki is fine
“I’m sure he wasn’t happy about an after-hours call,” June says, fastening her seat belt. “That doesn’t necessarily make him entitled.”
“All rich people feel entitled.”
Callie replies with a thumbs-up before I back out of the parking spot.
“That’s a little harsh. I think Callie and Rupert are very nice people.”
“I’m not saying entitled people can’t be nice. But they hired me asa muse. That’s a big, fucking privilege money buys you.”
As I pull onto the street, I feel June’s gaze on me, so I give her a quick glance. Then I sigh. “Tell me I’m wrong. Name one person you know who has money, but you’d never know they had money? They live like us. Drive an old beater. I mean, I got my first paycheck from the Rawlings, and my head spun with possibilities. It was like a drug. Do you know what I mean?”
She twists her lips and nods several times. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “I do. I just don’t want you to ever feel like Callie and Rupert aren’t good people. We’re all human. We’re all flawed. Everyone deals with temptation at some point. Focusing on the things we have in common more than our differences just feels like a better, more peaceful, way to live.”
I squeeze her hand. “I like them. I just don’t want to be them.”
“I love you, Flynn,” she says, in a sad tone, looking out her window.
When we arrive at the house, Callie comes out the front door before I even get the crate from the back seat. She’s barefoot in a fancy silver sequin dress.
“Someone’s a little anxious,” I say to June.
She closes the door after I have the crate, then she rests her hand on my back. “Don’t forget why you were hired. She’s still grieving the loss of her grandson. I’m sure the idea of her kitten dying is unsettling.”
As we reach the end of the driveway, Callie opens the crate and takes Loki out. “Hey, buddy.” She kisses his head. “Thankyou. I owe you two so much,” she says, leading the way back to the house. Her hair is pulled back, and she’s wearing makeup. I’ve never seen Callie in makeup.
“You don’t owe us anything,” I say.
June hugs my arm, looking up at me with an approving smile. She must be like Callie, or maybe all women love manners. I’ve always thought they were overrated. Acting a part. Not always genuine. Yet, I’ve come to like the little smiles both of these women give me when I do something polite.
“Kids,” Rupert says slowly, sauntering into the foyer from the kitchen, a drink in one hand, a sandwich cookie in his other. He’s in a tux with the bowtie undone. “Oh, thank goodness,” he says to Callie. “I’m so glad that cat didn’t die.”
She rolls her eyes at him before focusing on us while sitting on the stairs with Loki hugged to her chest. “I called Lenny to thank him for meeting you there. He got me up to speed on everything.”
“What did you think ofDr. Schreiber?” Rupert asks.
