As Andrew knelt beside his mother’s dog, a streak of orange fur suddenly raced up his arm and settled on his shoulder. Startled, Andrew jerked.
Sharp claws pierced his suit jacket and through his shirt to find the vulnerable skin beneath. Andrew gave a strangled curse and tried to shrug the animal off, but it clung stubbornly.
There was a cat on his shoulder. Twisting his neck to study the creature, he noted that it was little more than a straggly orange kitten. It meowed pitifully and tried to hide beneath Andrew’s chin.
The dog stood on its hind legs, front paws braced on Andrew’s leg, and barked a challenge at the intrusive cat.
“What the—Nicole!”
Trying to peel the cat off his shoulder without ruining his suit, Andrew called Nicole’s name again. His housekeeper appeared instead.
“Oh, dear,” Martha said, making an obvious effort to look sympathetic while fighting an instinctive smile at her employer’s predicament. “Here, let me help you,” she said, reaching out to take the cat firmly in her hands.
“Let go, now,” she murmured, gently extricating tiny claws from the expensive fabric of Andrew’s jacket. “I’ve got you.”
“I would ask where it came from, but I suppose I already know,” Andrew said. “Nicole?”
Still subduing a smile, Martha nodded. “She found the poor little thing this morning. It looked to have been abandoned. She said she only brought it here until she finds it a good home.”
Andrew sighed. “Where is she?”
“She’s working this evening. But there’s someone waiting to meet you in your study.”
Andrew had a hard time deciding which comment to question first. “She’s working? Where? And who’s waiting for me?”
“She’s found a waitressing job in a restaurant in midtown. On Madison, I think. She said to tell you she gets off at eleven and will be home afterward. And the man who’s waiting for you is her cousin, Mr. Nathaniel Holiday. He said you’re expecting him.”
Andrew rubbed his temple over the earpiece of his glasses. “All right. I’ll go talk to him. Did Nicole tell you the name of the restaurant where she’s working?”
“She wrote it down. I have it in the kitchen.”
“I’d like to see it when I’m finished.”
“Yes, sir. Will you be wanting dinner here this evening, Mr. Andrew?”
“No. I’ll probably dine out.”
Martha’s mouth twitched again. “Yes, sir.”
Murmuring reassurances to the mewing cat, she carried it off, ordering Buffy to follow. Rather to Andrew’s surprise, the dog obeyed. Must be time for it to eat, he decided, then went in search of Nicole’s cousin.
The man was sitting at Andrew’s formerly pristine desk, which was now littered with portable computer equipment, stacks of disks and papers, and what appeared to be candy wrappers. Behind the mess sat Nathaniel Holiday.
He was young—no more than mid-twenties, Andrew guessed—and disheveled, to put it generously. He had a mop of curly, unruly black hair that reminded Andrew forcibly of Nicole’s dark curls, and a stubble of dark whiskers on his thin cheeks and stubborn-looking chin. There was a smudge of chocolate on his right cheek.
He looked up from his computer screen when Andrew entered the room, and his eyes were as dark as Nicole’s, his lashes perhaps a shade longer—unusually long for a male. He wore a black turtleneck with a yellow smear of what might have been mustard on the right shoulder, and a complex, multifunctional black watch that almost dwarfed his thin left wrist as his hands hovered above the keyboard.
Andrew suddenly recognized that keyboard—as well as the other equipment. It had all been neatly arranged on the credenza when he’d left that morning.
“That’s my equipment,” he felt compelled to state irritably.
Nate nodded. “You had a real mess on here. Don’t know how you navigated through it all. I’ve done some organizing and interfacing for you.” He paused, apparently waiting for Andrew to express his heartfelt gratitude.
“I have some important and confidential material in that computer,” Andrew said from between his teeth. “If you’ve messed it up—”
Nate’s dark eyebrows drew together. “I don’t ‘mess up,”’ he said testily. “And it couldn’t have been much more of a mess than it was, anyway. Come have a look.”
Still scowling, Andrew rounded the corner of his desk to find out how much damage Nicole’s cousin had done. “All right. Show me.”