“I know,” Edie said, trying to keep her voice patient. Mrs. Silvestri was at least ninety and as frail as a leaf. “But trust me when I say it’s best if cats use a litterbox.”
“I’m too old to bend over and clean up a little box,” Mrs. Silvestri said, determined. “He will just have to learn to potty in the potty. That’s what I hired you to do.”
Edie kept the polite smile on her face, watching as Bianca slid out of the room, likely retreating to the car so Edie could deal with the cranky woman herself. Which was fine—it was easier to work without Bianca’s hovering. “I’m sure we can come up with a setup that works for both you and Skittles,” she said to Mrs. Silvestri. “Let’s see what we can do.”
Some time later, Edie emerged from the old woman’s tiny townhouse, satisfied. She’d shown Mrs. Silvestri a few ways to keep Skittles from climbing the drapes, and she’d managed to talk her into putting the litter in a box in a corner of the laundry room that had steps going up to it. That way the cat could reach the litter without too much effort, and Mrs. Silvestri wouldn’t have to bend over to clean it. It was a solution that worked for everyone.
Except Bianca, of course. Edie got into the passenger seat and shut the door. “I didn’t charge her.”
“Why not?” Bianca frowned. “She took up two hours of your time.”
“She also hired me just to show her cat how to use the toilet, and I’m not going to do that,” Edie said tightly. “Plus, you saw her place. I doubt she had two nickels to rub together to pay for a cat behaviorist. Let her keep the money for cat litter.”
“We barely have two nickels to rub together,” Bianca said bluntly, swiping her finger over her phone’s screen. A bell chimed, the tinkling sound of a game.
“What are you doing?”
“Playing Warrior Shop ,” Bianca said. She put her phone down and smiled at Edie. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.” Edie glanced down at Bianca’s now-locked phone. “I didn’t think you were into games like that.”
“I’m really not,” Bianca said, a mysterious smile on her mouth. “But I’m intrigued by that one.” She shrugged. “Besides, there’s not a lot to do when you go on calls.”
“You know, you don’t have to go with me,” Edie said, tentatively broaching the subject. She knew Bianca hated house calls and it made Edie uncomfortable to have her sister hovering, waiting. “I can always call you for a ride or take public transportation or—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bianca said, giving Edie a hurt look. “You need my help.”
“Of course I do,” Edie said, and that was the end of that. If Bianca needed to feel useful by driving Edie around, then who was Edie to complain? Bianca selflessly devoted her time to Edie’s business, and she wasn’t paid nearly as well as a real assistant, so Edie should have felt lucky that she had her sister’s assistance.
Emphasis on “should have.”
Two additional client visits later, they headed home for the day. As they did, they stopped to get the mail. Mixed among the bills was a decorative invitation addressed to Edie. She opened it and read it, trying to ignore Bianca’s nosy interest. “There’s a costume engagement party at Buchanan Manor this weekend. Masks must be worn or will be provided to guests. Please show up in costume. A donation to charity is requested in lieu of gifts. Open bar. Yadda yadda.” Edie sighed. “I guess I can’t bail out if I’m in the bridal party, huh?”
Bianca looked at the invitation longingly. “Does it say if you can bring a guest?”
Edie looked over the invite again. “Says Edie and one guest,” she lied, and was happy to see Bianca’s face immediately brighten. “You should be the one in the bridal party,” Edie commented. “You’re the one who actually likes this stuff.”
“Yes, but you’re her friend,” Bianca said. “She doesn’t like me.”
“Of course she does,” Edie lied, not wanting to hurt Bianca’s feelings. “Anyhow, maybe I can call and cancel. I’m not sure we have the extra money for costumes. Sneezy needs his asthma inhaler this month, and you know how expensive that is.”
Bianca gave her an exasperated look as they headed for the door to their apartment. “Don’t you call and cancel. I’m sure I can get us costumes between now and then.”
“Oh?”
“I have a connection at a costume shop,” Bianca told her.
“Too bad you don’t have a connection at a pharmacy,” Edie muttered. But it was fine, really. She could dress up as something benign that hopefully wouldn’t require too much walking.
And maybe . . . maybe Magnus would be there. Edie blushed at the thought, then hated herself for it. She really had no business mooning over him. None whatsoever.
But she still retreated to her room, gave her cats their obligatory attention and petting, and then curled up on the couch. Immediately one went for her shoulders and another for her lap. She pulled out her phone and texted Gretchen.
Edie: Thanks for the invite to the party. What are you going as so we don’t wear the same thing?
Ha! came the reply almost immediately. I am going as Ursula the Sea Witch. Don’t steal my costume, whore.
Edie: Pfft, won’t be a problem. I’ll come as a crab.
Gretchen: Don’t come as a crab! That’s not sexy! Unless it’s a sexy crab.
Edie: No such thing. PS—I’m bringing Bianca, okay?