“Fine,” Bonnie said, still sounding a little prickly. “Can you get to the point you were going to make?”

  “Yes, of course.” Taryn took a sip of her coffee and set the mug back on the table, giving herself a moment to regain her composure and focus. The attempt was foiled somewhat by the little squeak of surprise she made when Sasha suddenly jumped onto her lap and curled into a tight ball, immediately falling asleep.

  Taryn smiled slightly. Ha. Take that, Laptop Woman. She glanced over and saw the customer packing her bag and getting ready to leave. Well, at least she was Sasha’s second choice. Okay, really her only other option in the nearly empty café, but still, Taryn’s lap had beat out a bunch of fluffy cat beds.

  “So, I know you aren’t interested in having a wedding here, or turning the café into a matchmaking service, but I had an idea about a way you could promote cat adoption by using the concept of speed dating. Not for people to find human partners, but to give them a chance to meet a bunch of cats.”

  Bonnie started to rise. “I really should get back to lunch prep—”

  “Just hear me out. Please,” Taryn said. Bonnie nodded shortly and settled back in her chair. Taryn continued, speaking faster since she knew she had limited time before Bonnie walked away.

  “In some ways, adopting an animal is similar to dating. You have to get past appearances and really understand what the other person or the cat is like, to know if you’d be compatible, right? Not just pick a pet because it’s cute or you like its color. Well, I was thinking you could have an event where you have the cats in different rooms based on personality or special needs, and people pay to come spend time with them. Maybe a room with older, quiet cats, and one for more active ones. One for kittens, or cats that need a lot of attention. The participants would start in one room and learn about the cats there, then after a certain amount of time, they’d move to the next and a new group would take their place. You could serve a different appetizer or dessert in each room, like a progressive dinner. Not only would the participants get to spend time with a lot of different cats, but they’d be educated about their unique needs and the lifestyles they’d suit.”

  Bonnie was silent for a moment, and Taryn couldn’t read her expression. She was either going to be thrown out and banned for life from the cat café, or she’d be moving one step closer to getting the café booked for the wedding.

  “Maybe a room for bonded pairs, too,” Bonnie said. “Some cats are too close to separate, which can make it harder to find them homes since we have to wait until we find someone who will take both.”

  “Yes,” Taryn said. She fought to keep her smile under control, making it merely a friendly one and not too celebratory. “That’s a great idea.”

  Bonnie shook her head. “It’s a clever idea, but not really practical for the café. We don’t have the space, for one thing—”

  “You wouldn’t have it here,” Taryn interrupted. “If you rented a larger place for the event, you could have space for more cats. I’m sure you know plenty of other rescuers who would love to be part of this. Instead of twenty-four cats and maybe fifty people, you could have hundreds of both. A charity event like this would draw a crowd. And just think how many cats would find new homes.”

  Somewhere during Taryn’s talk, Bonnie had uncoiled from her defensive position and now rested back in her seat with a weary looking curve in her back. Taryn was irrationally tempted to stand behind her and knead some of the visible stress from her shoulders.

  Luckily, Sasha was pinning her down and keeping her from trying to touch Bonnie again.

  “It’s a nice thought, but even less practical than having it here,” Bonnie said. “The cost, the time it would take to organize. I just don’t have enough of either to spare.”

  “I do,” Taryn said quietly. “I organize events for a living. I have connections that would help us get all the supplies at a discount. I also have an in with the mayor of Sumner, who would probably be thrilled to help us find a nice big place to rent that would be close to the café so the cats wouldn’t have to be transported far. The admission fees would more than cover the basic costs, and the rest of the profits would be split among the rescue groups involved.”

  Bonnie stared at her for a long moment, her face expressionless. “And your fee?”

  “Oh, I think you know my fee,” Taryn said with a grin.

  Bonnie shook her head with a rueful laugh. “You’re offering me a chance to not only find homes for possibly dozens of cats, but to also educate the public about what it means to choose an animal to adopt, while at the same time helping out my friends who have their own rescue groups. And you think that’s enough to get me to agree to have the wedding here?”

  “Oh, I think it’s more than enough,” Taryn said, popping the last bite of her strawberry muffin into her mouth. It was sweet and delicious, but victory tasted even sweeter.

  Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest again, but this time it seemed to Taryn to be more a gesture of semi-gracious defeat than anger. “I should say no just for spite, but I won’t. You’re quite devious, you know.”

  “Yes, but at least I’m using my powers for good. This time.” Taryn winked at her, then gestured at the orange cat that had somehow shifted another two ledges over until he was nearly sitting at the table with them. She hadn’t noticed him move at all. “Are you going to sic Ninja Cat on me because of this?”

  “I should,” Bonnie said, but she laughed, looking more relaxed now. “His name is Salmon, and he’s very gentle but aloof. He’s hovering because he loves Sasha, not because he wants to eviscerate you.”

  “Salmon?” Taryn repeated. She really needed to get back out of that habit.

  “Yes, well, salmon have a lot of significance in the Northwest. They’re an important part of our local ecosystems, just like he is in our café.”

  “You have a tell,” Taryn said when Bonnie faltered to a stop after her weak explanation. Taryn waggled her finger between her own eyes. “You squint when you’re lying. You did the same thing when you said you were certain there were no cats in the kitchen.”

  “I said cats weren’t allowed in the kitchen,” Bonnie clarified with an indignant look that only lasted a few seconds before she laughed. “Oh, all right. I had salmon for dinner the night before my friend brought him to the café, and his coloring kind of looks salmon-like. Go ahead and laugh, but you try naming up to ten cats a month. You run out of clever ideas and just start going with the first thing that comes to mind.”

  Taryn leaned forward conspiratorially, careful not to dislodge Sasha. “So, are there actually cats in the kitchen?”

  “No. Definitely not. Well, probably not, but it’s not an impossibility.” She scanned the room. “I’m eighty percent sure there aren’t, but if I could find Kip…Oh, there he is.” She pointed at a small black cat sunning himself on a windowsill. “Okay, I’ll go up to ninety percent sure.”

  Chapter Eight

  Bonnie finished the afternoon baking the next day, then wandered through the café picking up toys and rearranging empty tables until Isa finally told her to stop fussing and just go. She lingered a little longer, checking on the kittens and adding some items to her running grocery list, then finally took Isa’s advice and started the walk back to her house where her car was parked.

  She still had time before she had to be at Taryn’s office to sign the rental agreement and discuss wedding plans. Taryn had scheduled the meeting and left the café soon after Bonnie accepted her offer to plan an adoption event as a bonus for Bonnie agreeing to host Marty and Lex’s wedding, as if she expected Bonnie to change her mind and wanted to leave before it could happen.

  Taryn needn’t have worried, though. Bonnie wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to not only share information about the adoption process and find homes for some of her cats, but also to help her friends who had rescue groups and were always struggling to find fosters and adopters. She decided to wait until the date and details were finalized before telling Nancy. Otherwise she might show up at the café days ahead of time with a U-Haul stuffed to the roof with cats.

  The main reason Bonnie wasn’t going to back out of the deal, though, was because she had already decided to say yes the next time Taryn asked. As hard as she had tried to find a reasonable excuse for standing her ground and refusing to host the wedding, her only arguments were weak ones that skirted her real issue with the event.

  Such as her avoidance of things associated with marriages because they represented her family’s expectations for all its offspring.

  Or her reluctance to face the intensified familial badgering she’d receive if her café turned into a singles destination.

  While those reasons were perfectly valid for her and were far from exaggerations about her family’s likely response to the situation, they were insignificant to the cats or to her business, especially when compared to how both the cats and the business would benefit if she agreed to the wedding.

  And, truth be told, her younger self had been far more upset by her family’s badgering than she was now. Now she just felt mildly annoyed at the prospect.

  All she had to do was stay as far out of the picture as possible. Literally. She could stay in the kitchen while the press took photos and could hide out in the upstairs room if guests were being interviewed. The focus would be on Lex and Marty, and she’d make sure none of the attention strayed too close to her.

  She had come to terms with her eventual submission to Taryn’s request—though not delving too deeply into her inclination to submit to Taryn’s flirting, too, if it happened again. Still, she had been surprised to see Taryn back at the café so soon and had still been reluctant, if resigned, to let this highly publicized event happen in her café, so Taryn made her enticing offer before she had a chance to tell Taryn she’d changed her mind.

  Bonnie paused for a moment on a street corner, admiring the garden that was her favorite part of her daily walks to and from the café. The mingling scents from dozens of types of flowering plants made a gentle perfume in the air that always soothed her when she was feeling anxious.

  She thought back to the question she had asked Taryn yesterday, about whether she was there to argue for the wedding or to flirt with Bonnie again. It had turned out to be the former, despite Taryn’s protests to the contrary, but Bonnie would have found the latter even more enticing and hard to decline. Apparently the flirting had just been part of the attempt to get Bonnie’s signature on the rental contract. Which was a shame, since Taryn intrigued her with her unpredictable humor and clever mind. And her skin. When she had touched Bonnie’s arm, she had felt as if all her attention, all her blood and nerve endings, were straining toward that one small patch on her arm where Taryn’s hand rested.

  Bonnie started walking again, moving away from the romantic spring aroma that seemed to be messing with her mind and her common sense. It was fortunate that Taryn hadn’t been at the café for personal reasons, not a shame. It was a relief. Not exactly a flattering one, though…

  Bonnie pulled out her phone to call her brother. She had found that the best way to make any problem in her life seem less dire was to get in touch with a family member. Plus, she had been meaning to call him since the morning her mother had given her the news about the second wedding. She had intended to contact him that day, but then Taryn had walked into her life, bringing unwelcome weddings and romance onto Bonnie’s turf. To put it mildly, she hadn’t been in a suitable frame of mind for gushing over his impending nuptials. Or renuptials?

  “Hey, sis,” he said when he answered. Bonnie could hear the voices, bangs, and laughter in the background that always made up the drone from his chaotic home life.

  “Hey, Jonah,” she said. “Mom told me the good news. Congratulations. I was amazed you got Mayu to say yes once, let alone twice.”

  “Me, too!” he agreed with a laugh. “To tell you the truth, I was a little worried to ask again. Like maybe I just caught her on a good day the first time, and she’s been waiting for a chance to reconsider.”

  She laughed along with him. She could joke with him about managing to snare the sought-after former pageant queen and current local television star because she knew how much they loved each other. Mayu had lucked out in the deal, too. Jonah might be the quieter counterpoint to her public persona, but he had been more than content to support her and let her shine. When their parents weren’t around and Jonah wasn’t trying desperately to grasp at any approval crumbs they offered, he was not just a brother, but one of her closest friends. When their parents were around, she felt a little sorry for him and how hard he tried to keep their attention.

  “So, another elaborate wedding, hmm?” Bonnie asked as she got to her house and unlocked her car. She could have just driven to work instead of doing her usual walk, but she seemed to be desperately searching for ways to delay her trip to Taryn’s office. If she didn’t hurry now, though, she would be late.

  “Yes, although I forgot how exhausting the first one was to organize. Today is all about flowers and table settings. We’re heading to the wedding planner’s office in a little while.”

  Bonnie dropped her keys between her seat and the center console, and she fumbled for them as she half listened to Jonah talk. She didn’t feel sorry for him since he had voluntarily chosen to repeat his wedding. She fished her keys out of the narrow gap and spoke without thinking through her next words.

  “Funny. I’m doing the same thing today.”

  “You’re going to a…You’re getting married? Mayu, come here. Bonnie’s getting married!”

  “No, no, no, no,” Bonnie repeated even though no one was on the other end of the line to hear her. Damn it.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Jonah demanded when he came back. Bonnie could hear the excited murmur of Mayu asking questions of her own in the background. “Who is she? When can we meet her?”

  “I’m not getting married, Jonah, so please tell me you’re not texting Mom right now. I’m going to see a wedding planner because Sumner’s mayor is getting married in my café.”

  “You’re not getting married. She’s not getting married,” he repeated, in a more muffled voice, probably because he was aiming the comment at Mayu. “The mayor, sis? That’s a big deal.”

  “The mayor of Sumner,” she said, emphasizing her town’s name. He sounded genuinely impressed by her news, so she assumed he hadn’t registered the city in his excitement over her false wedding. “Martin Hannah. He met his partner Lex at the café, and they adopted two cats.”

  “Wow. That’s really…wow. Mayu interviewed him just a couple of months ago. She was really impressed by him.”

  Now she was going to be really late. She switched to speaker and clipped her phone into a holder on her dash. At least she didn’t have time to stew about this appointment on her way to Taryn’s since she spent the entire drive fielding questions from Mayu and Jonah. All she really knew about Marty and Lex was the names of their cats, so she didn’t have many satisfactory answers for them. When she pulled into the parking lot next to Taryn’s small office complex, she ended the call, promising Jonah she would keep him updated on the wedding plans. He and Mayu had seemed more excited about the wedding of a small-town mayor than their own.

  She put the call out of her mind—not easy to do since she knew Jonah was probably on the phone and spreading her news to the rest of the family. She would eagerly await the You’re having a wedding in your café? Too bad you’re not the one getting married calls she was sure to receive tonight.

  * * *

  Taryn’s office was just off Meridian, on the hill between the Puyallup fairgrounds and the South Hill Mall. The location was prime, and easy to find. Bonnie had worried about parking, but the lot attached to the strip of offices was nearly empty, and she was able to find a spot directly in front of Taryn’s door. She walked into an empty reception area, with a small desk in the center and several comfortable love seats and chairs lining the walls. A door on the far side of the room was marked by a burnished gold plate with Taryn’s name on it in black lettering, and Taryn herself came out to greet Bonnie as soon as she stepped inside.

  “Hello,” she said, remaining in her doorway. “Come on back.”

  Bonnie crossed the room and followed Taryn into her office. She was wearing a similar style of clothing as she had on her visits to the café and otherwise looked the same on the surface, but there was something different about her in this setting. Her smile was friendly enough, but she seemed every inch the professional in a borderline distant way. Bonnie wasn’t sure if this was her true self and the playful, outgoing Taryn she had met in the café was just an act, or vice versa.

  She walked through the doorway and paused, captivated by the hundreds of photos lining every wall. She slowly circled the room, looking at each picture in turn. Taryn stood patiently next to her desk as Bonnie walked around her, apparently accustomed to having everyone who entered the office do the same thing.

  Bonnie had been to dozens of weddings for family and friends, and had stood stiff and smiling in plenty of wedding photos. The couples and bridal parties, color schemes and floral arrangements had been different in each one, but there had been a thread of sameness running through them all.

  If Bonnie had been shown all the photos from weddings she had attended with the newlywed couples erased, she would only have been able to identify whose wedding it was based on the process of elimination, ruling out the ushers and bridesmaids.

  But each of Taryn’s pictures was one of a kind, reflecting the unique ceremonies they captured. Some details were traditional, like the brides who were wearing big white dresses, but instead of standing on church steps next to an arch of white roses, they were dangling from rock climbing walls or water skiing. One was riding a mechanical bull.