A Tale of Two Cousins

Chapter One-2

“Damn,” she said, pausing to fret. “I hate to just walk up to it. Look at all those limos and expensive tiny sports cars. What sort of a princess arrives on foot to a hotel like that?”

“One who is flat broke.” I glanced down a cross street and noticed a smaller, less busy entrance. “Let’s go in the side entrance. That way we will be in the hotel before you make your grand entrance.”

“All right, but I really wish we could have gotten a car. Appearances matter so much.”

I managed to not comment on that, but it was a near thing. Just as I passed the dark entrance of an obviously closed shop, a girl of about ten or eleven popped out, holding a large cardboard box in her arms.

“I hear you talking. You are English lady?” she asked me, her eyes red as if she had been crying.

“Oh, hello. I live there, yes.” I hoped Maggie would stop with me to help the distraught child, but she proceeded on, obviously unaware of the girl.

“You like cats?”

I looked at her box. “Uh ... sure, but—”

“I give you cat. Papa say Valentino has to go, but he will die if he is in the street. English like animals, I saw this in TV we watch at school. You take him. I love him. Maybe you love him, too?” Her dark eyes filled with tears that spilled over, making my own eyes prick painfully.

“Wait, I can’t take a cat—”

“He is very good cat. You look like nice lady. You will love him, and treat him well, and then he will have a better life than with me, just like on the English TV shows,” she said, and, with a heart-wrenching sob, turned and dashed down the street.

“Hey, I can’t—I’m not the best person—well, hell.”

No one else was around on that side of the street, certainly no one who looked like a suitable home for an unwanted cat. I flipped open the lid of the box to find an orange cat curled up on a ratty Bugs Bunny blanket. His head tilted back to give me a long, assessing look. There was a black splotch that completely covered one ear and dribbled down the back of his head a little bit. He was wearing a harness, and included in the box were a plastic bag filled with dried cat food, two small cans of what looked like tuna, and a couple of beat-up toys.

“Oh, God,” I told the cat, my heart breaking at the thought of a young girl driven by desperation to find her beloved kitty a home. Then I thought of what it would take to care for a cat properly, and my heart broke a little more, because I knew I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have the time or situation or money. “I can’t, Valentino. I just can’t. Tell me you understand.”

The cat stood up, stretched, then sniffed where my fingers were curled through the cutout handle of the box before giving them a head bonk.

My heart melted at the gesture. I’d always wanted a cat, but never could afford one ... and with one rub of this odd cat’s head, I was a goner, and we both knew it.

Still, how was I going to afford a cat? There was food, and litter, and vet visits, and toys. ... I spent a moment imagining me turning the cat over to the local animal shelter, and almost flinched at the look in Valentino’s eyes.

“You have no idea how much you’ve just complicated my life, kitty. Oh, stop looking at me like I’m a miser. I guess I’ll eat ramen noodles for a month, but you have to do your part. You have to remain healthy, and not demand expensive food,” I told him. “I hope that harness means you don’t mind walking, because I can’t carry a cardboard box with me into a cocktail party, and I’m certainly not going to leave you anywhere. Not since you’re probably traumatized at being parted from your little girl.”

The cat just gave me another long, considering look, his eyes blinking slowly.

“What are you doing?” Maggie called, her hands on her hips, when I hurried up to her. Her expression went from impatience to disbelief when she saw what was in the box I held. “A cat? Where on earth did you find that?”

“A little girl gave him to me. She said her dad was going to dump him on the street, and you’ve seen how people drive here. The kitty wouldn’t last five minutes.”

Maggie gawked at me. “Are you kidding? According to that Web site you read me, there’s a whole neighborhood filled with cats in Athens.”

“Yes, but that’s not here.” I clutched the box tighter, all my hitherto-unknown protective instincts rushing to the fore. I’d be damned before I did anything so callous as to abandon this poor, heartbroken cat.

“You can’t keep a cat!” Maggie insisted.

I met Valentino’s gaze, and once again melted under the effect of it. “Why not? Lots of people have them.”

“How are you going to explain him to your flatmates?” she countered, and I had to admit she had me there.

“I don’t know what I’ll say, but I can’t leave him here. It’s inhuman.” I could be just as stubborn as her.

“He looks healthy. He’ll be fine on his own.” She turned and walked quickly into the entrance of the hotel.

I looked again at the cat, who was curled up, his front feet folded under his chest. “She’s right in that I don’t know what I’ll do with you when I get home. I don’t suppose if I set you down, you’d find someone here to live with?”

He blinked at me again. I sighed. There was no further argument, and we both knew it. “Fine, but if you give me any grief, I will find the nearest Greek SPCA and hand you over.” I took him out of the box and set him on the ground. His tail went up as he sniffed first my feet, then the mat outside the entrance of the hotel, then looked back up at me, clearly waiting for me to open the door.

“You sure? All right, but no peeing on anything.” With the box in one hand, and the cat’s leash handle looped around the other, I opened the door and he strolled in, just as calm as if he’d done that every day of his life.

Maggie stood just inside the door, clearly scanning the surroundings to make sure no one saw her arriving on foot. She turned to say, “It’s all clear—oh, for the love of God! You’re not keeping that!”

“You want me to fit in with the elite rich people of Athens,” I told her, lifting my chin and pushing my glasses farther up the bridge of my nose. “They all have Chihuahuas and pugs and other little dogs they carry around in purses.”

“That’s in Los Angeles, and that is not a teacup Chihuahua. ...Oh, never mind. If anyone complains, you’re going to have to get rid of it.”

I frowned, not appreciating the high-handed tone she’d adopted. I knew she wasn’t overly fond of cats, but there was no reason to be so heartless about a poor homeless kitty. I dumped the cat’s box of things at the concierge (who looked at it like it was filled with feces) and hurried after my cousin.

“Now remember,” Maggie said in an undertone at the same time she slid into a hip-slinky walk down a hallway that led to various rooms used to hold events. “These people are the überest of the über. Don’t mention anything about money.”

“Or lack thereof,” I said sotto voce to Valentino. His tail had a little curl at the end, so it looked like a shepherd’s crook. My heart melted even more as he walked so nicely next to me.

“Don’t forget to tell anyone who asks that you’re my PA, and that I’m working for Noblesse International magazine. If they ask what I’m here to write about, say that you’ve been sworn to secrecy. That ought to pique their interests, and maybe we’ll get invited to other parties.”

“We’re only going to be here for a few days,” I reminded her. She stopped outside a door that had a sign in Greek and English that read georgio foundation of the arts.

“Yes, and I expect to use every minute we’re here to make valuable connections. OK, showtime! Oh, and remember to refer to me as Her Serene Highness.”

I came close to rolling my eyes for a third time. “I know, Mags.”

With a deep breath, she jerked the door open, and did a slow, exaggerated hip-action stroll into the room.

I looked at Valentino. He looked at me. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it with style,” I said, and hoisted him up, tucking him between my side and arm. I gave him a minute to protest, but he just curled his tail underneath my arm and adopted a regal expression.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” I nodded at him, and tried to move with something other than my usual shamble, striving for the sophistication and elegance that always seemed to fail me.

The room was full of the sorts of tables you see at wine bars, tall, with no chairs, dotted with candles and elegant floral arrangements. Mingling amongst the tables, chatting, laughing, calling to one another, and generally doing the cocktail party dance, were about a hundred and twenty people. They came in all shapes, sizes, and colors, but every single one of the men wore a suit, with the ladies in elegant short cocktail dresses that showed off long, tanned legs, or in the case of older women who obviously didn’t wish to bare that much skin, silky garments that fluttered around them via the breeze coming in from an open patio.

Ahead of me, Maggie paused, posing. For a moment, I had a sense of her being a stranger. “Really,” I whispered to the cat, “I had no idea she’s such a good actress.”

Valentino looked unimpressed. Maggie lifted a hand to wave at someone across the room all the while trilling light laughter.

“Do you see someone you know?” I hissed behind her, panic hitting me in the stomach. She’d sworn that she had no acquaintances who hung out in this set, but my worst fear was that someone would expose our subterfuge.

“No, silly. I’m just letting everyone think I do. Darling!” She laughed again, and started forward, bumping into a woman who appeared to be in her sixties, and who was chatting with two men. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was just waving to an old friend when my PA jostled me. Did I hurt you? No? I’m so glad. I couldn’t forgive myself if her clumsiness resulted in you being hurt. But you look familiar. Did we meet at Bunny’s party last year?”

“I don’t know anyone named Bunny,” the woman said with some suspicion, eyeing first Maggie, then me, and finally the cat. Her lips pursed. “And I don’t know you.”

“Of course you don’t, and here my PA had me almost running you down. Thyra.” Maggie gestured toward the two men and the obviously disapproving woman, waiting for me to do my thing.

My stomach tightened, and for a moment, I thought of refusing to go through with the charade, but the weight of the cat on my arm reminded me that I badly needed the money that had been promised for the article. I’d be able to pay my flatmates all the back rent I owed, and put a little into my nonexistent savings account. I’d be able to afford food and litter for the cat. I might even be able to shop somewhere other than thrift stores. And most of all, I might be able to present my case to Beck. “Good evening. May I present Her Serene Highness Princess Juliane of Sonderburg-Beck,” I murmured, and, with a glance that I hoped told Maggie a good deal, backed away. The two men—one of whom was older, the other probably in his early fifties—murmured politely and kissed her hand.