Hush

On the other hand, a panic attack would be better than what she was feeling now.

The valet stood at a respectful distance, sharp in his uniform, waiting attentively, but not obtrusively. Which was excellent, but it made her very aware that she was running away. That she’d let Trace get to her. Again.

She thought about going back inside, walking into the meeting as if nothing at all was wrong, but found herself wanting to head over to Fifth Avenue. Halfway to the limo, she heard something that stopped her. It wasn’t a voice, but a sound. A rather pitiful meow that cut straight through her roiling craziness.

It was dark in the garage and it wasn’t easy to discern the direction of the noise. A cat. A little one, she thought, but maybe it was just ill.

She hated that. Animals were her weakness, and although she donated a ton of money to shelters around the country, she still wanted to pick up every stray she saw. If she wasn’t careful, she’d turn into one of those cat ladies whose houses smelled like a litter box.

So she had three cats. No biggie. Her place was really large, and there was always someone around to take care of them.

The kitty cried again, and Piper got a bead on it behind the Dumpsters. She inched her way closer to the sad, sad sound, her heart aching. “Here, baby. Don’t be scared.”

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