I watched his expression as I said, “We thought somewhere more upscale. Encourage the folks with money to chip in.”
Nash wrinkled his nose. “There’s pros and cons to that. You’d want to avoid Willis Cove, of course. No strays allowed beyond the gates.”
Shane snorted. “I’d love to see them telling a stray cat it can’t go where it wants to.” He scratched Mimsy’s cheek, and she purred.
“True enough.” Nash laughed.
I said, “It’s a bit about property availability, right? Any tips if wedidwant to go somewhere like Riverside or Marina Park?”
Nash thought a moment. “Sneak approach, maybe? Post about needing a new shelter on the local neighborhood apps, in all the neighborhoods, without saying where it’ll be. Get people to chime in about what a great idea it is. The not-in-my-back-yard folks will be happy to sound pro-pets on the assumption it’ll be far away. Then when you come back later, you can use their own words against them.”
“Fuck,” Shane said. “That’s smart.”
“I read a lot.” Nash grinned.
“And he’s just naturally brilliant.” A slim man with long, sandy hair came over and slung an arm across Nash’s shoulders. From the fond look Nash turned on him, this had to be his husband. The man said, “Hon, there’s a problem with the latest delivery from Copeworth Press. Mrs. Vincent’s here for her book, and it wasn’t in the shipment.”
Nash told Shane, “Let me know when you’re into the serious fundraising stage. Our bookstore might be up for some kind of sponsorship.”
“Will do.” Shane watched as the two men headed over to a customer service desk where an austere, older woman stood tapping her fingers. When they were out of earshot, he turned to me. “You know I’m busking for myself today, right?”
“Yeah. I just thought…”
“That I would be embarrassed to say so? Or that it was embarrassing for you to have a boyfriend who’s asking for handouts.”
Both?The pleasure of hearing him say “boyfriend” was erased by the new hurdle in finding the right tone to take. “Your neck went red.”
“Probably from Mimsy’s fur.” He looked away. “No, you were right. It’s different when I’m in here with you, acting like I have money to spend on stuff like books, and then I’m gonna go out there and panhandle. It doesn’t feel as honest.”
“Not wanting to live off my money is super-honest,” I pointed out.Even though I hate it.
“I need a job,” Shane muttered.
“I’ll help you look.” I turned to the shelf of bargain books, eager to change the mood. “Hey, look, they have some of theTemerairedragon books marked down.”
“I’ve only read the first one.” Shane knelt gracefully, not dislodging Mimsy, to check the selection.
“They’re awesome. Book two is down to three bucks.” I made an effort and didn’t say I’d buy it for him.
“I can afford three bucks.” Shane slid the paperback out of the shelf and stood. “We should look for your favorites. What author were you reading yesterday?”
We moved on to the new releases, and in discussing favorite authors and tropes, we found some kind of balance again. I grabbed the fifth in a series I enjoyed, for the companionable feeling of going to the register and paying side by side, Shane with cash he counted carefully, me with a card. Then we wandered back out into the sunshine.
“I kind of want to read this right away.” Shane held his bag out to me, though. “Hold it for me.”
We could go home. You could busk some other time.I tried to decide why I felt uncomfortable. I’d stood watching the last time he was here, and his patter and self-reliance had impressed me then. Why did I feel differently now?
Because him having to ask for money reflects on me? I’m not providing for my man.But how old-fashioned was that? Shane was his own man, and his independence was as admirable as it was frustrating.
I clutched a bookstore bag in each hand and stepped back.
Shane had Mimsy jump down, which she followed with some long, luxurious stretching. A few people paused, just to watch the cat. More paused when she stood up on her hind legs and meowed at Shane, waving her front paws.
“What?” Shane asked her, nonchalantly pulling a soft cap from his pocket and tossing it to the ground. “You want to have fun?” Another meow from Mimsy. “You want to dance?”
Mimsy shook her head, still on her hind legs.
“You want to play ball?”
