Page 49 of Booked for Murder

To complicate matters, I had some other unexpected guests, which included Mickey, my boss, and Meridian.

I really needed a nap to cope with my life being turned upside down on me.

“It seems you were not exaggerating on her status as lively,” my mother stated, looking me over from head to toe. “You weren’t joking about those glasses, either.”

“Have you been teaching my mother bad habits, Mrs. Hampton?”

“I’ve taught her to speak her mind, to stand up more for herself, and how to handle her investments better. I may have slipped in a few bad habits, although you deserve everything she decides to throw at you.”

Damn. When I’d started my new life as Bradley’s for life bodyguard, my parents had been wary of adepts. That they relaxed on my couch with no sign of discomfort warned me every facet of my old life had changed. An unsettled feeling grew within, but I did my best to ignore it. All I could do was apologize and brace for the worst. “I’m sorry.”

My mother kept giving me a dose of the evil eye, and my father set his coffee down, rose from my couch, and walked to me. Tensing, I held my ground, not that there was a whole lot I could do, beyond flee for the general safety of my bedroom.

He kissed my forehead. “How can someone so damned smart be so damned dumb? I should make you pick your own switch, but I’ll let you off the hook since you’d have to hobble around to fetch one. Seems to me like you’ve been punished enough.”

I needed more hours in the day than I had to process reality versus my expectations. I deserved being called dumb.

Disappearing without a trace did, through others’ eyes, count as dumb, especially when I could’ve gone crawling home and hid in my old room, which they’d kept for me throughout the years, right up until the accident. “Can I blame head trauma?”

“You sure can, little lady. Willamina told us about your glasses and your foot. Now, what’s this nonsense about a 17.2% aptitude rating?”

“Nobody looks at people that low. Too low but too high. It let me become a librarian with little fuss. Just ask Beatrice or my boss.”

Mr. Tawnlen shot me a look promising I’d have trouble on my hands later. “Public services have quotas, and it’s hard to find people in that rating bracket who have the right skillsets. She needed some training, but she caught on quickly. Truth be told, bringing her freshly rescued cat to the interview did more for getting her hired than her skills. Librarians are there to help, and the kind of person who takes a half-dead kitten to a job interview is someone who is naturally inclined to help others. That was the trait I hired her for. The rest is just knowledge and training, although she came to the library ahead of the curve for those with lower ratings.”

“Finally got yourself a kitten?” my mother asked, her tone amused. “You were barely able to walk the first time you saw a kitten and wanted one.”

Back then, my parents hadn’t been able to afford to have me let alone a kitten, but they’d managed. I retreated to my bedroom, scooped up my cat, and carried her out to introduce her to my parents. “This is Ajani. I brushed her a few minutes ago, so she’ll tolerate more attention than usual right now. I found her during a storm, and she would’ve died if I’d left her. But I had a job interview, so I took her with me before taking her to the vet.”

My father scratched Ajani behind her ear, and when my fluffy goddess didn’t complain, he scooped her out of my arms and walked to the couch with her.

“You just stole my cat.”

“While she’s not a human, I’m accepting your offering of a grandchild,” my father announced, taking his seat on my couch and settling Ajani on his lap. While she cocked back an ear, she sniffed my father, cast a doubtful look my way, but tolerated his attention.

I sighed, aware the reality of my household would slate me as whipped by my cat. “You have to earn the attention with the brush.” Since I had no hope of maintaining my dignity, I pointed at the end table. “Use the one with the softest bristles, or I might have a bald cat from all the brushing she’s getting today.”

Bradley retrieved the horrendously pink brush and gave it to my father, thus preventing my cat from going on a rampage. “She’s not joking. She gave me permission to check the brushes, and there have been incidents where she would be attacked if she did not attend to her feline’s needs promptly. The attacks were most vicious.”

“Don’t listen to him. She’s usually gentle.”

Bradley got up, took hold of my hand, lifted my arm, and pointed at the pale lines of scar along my forearm. “That’s gentle?”

“Absolutely.” I eyed the scars, one set of many I’d earned caring for my fluffy goddess. “She was still really young and learning her manners. She was a stray, and she was separated from her mother too early. Because of that, she wasn’t clear on how to behave.” When honest, she still wasn’t all that clear on how to behave, but I’d learned how to avoid being mauled, and she’d become a great deal more tolerant of being handled after staying in the library. The signs warning people to please brush the cat before petting helped, as did the mass collection of brushes available for patrons to use. “She’s never gone after anyone at the branch.”

My boss snickered. “I remember when you got those scars. You needed stitches. Don’t bother trying to convince anyone she’s not a furry demon. But she’s a charming furry demon, so I look the other way when she’s at work.”

“You say that despite buying her several scratching posts, a cat tree for the library, and a carrier for every floor in case of fire.” I laughed over how Ajani had wormed her way into everyone’s affections. “I’ve almost taught her how to be gentle. We’re getting there. It’s because she was separated from her momma too early, and I’m not a very good cat momma. It’s just a few scars.”

Bradley huffed. “A few?” He held my arm up higher and pointed at another set of scars closer to my elbow. “And those?”

“When you fail to feed your fluffy goddess promptly, expect punishment.” I grinned and pointed on yet another set of scars on the same arm. “This one wasn’t her fault. We were playing with one of her toys, and we got a little overenthusiastic.”

“Are you finished with all of your work now, Janette?” Bradley’s mother asked.

“For today. I’ve done sufficient work to fool my boss into thinking I’ve been handling that matter rather than conspiring in my living room.”

Raising a brow, my boss replied, “For the record, we could hear you through that paper-thin door, so yes, you were working, I’m disturbed over your general negotiation abilities, and I’m concerned about what you’ll be doing to my library.”