Unexpected Gift – Chantel Rhondeau
Aspiring decorator Cali Johnson moves to New York Cityâlonely, afraid, and far from home during the holidays. When she finds a lost cat in her apartment building, she strikes up an odd friendship with his reclusive owner, Marcus Ritz. If only she knew what he was hiding.
Excerpt
Cali Johnson covered her nose, trying to block the putrid smell of rotting garbage and body odor as she navigated the dirty linoleum flooring in the hallway of her apartment building. Four more doors and sheâd reach her tiny place. Knowing she had a safe haven of cleanliness and cheer at the end of the hall was the only thing that kept her walking through it.
She couldnât believe the way her neighbors treated their home. In her small hometown of Idaho City, no one would ever think about leaving rotting trash in another personâs way. Her new fifth story apartment off Bedford Park in the Bronx was an entirely different matter. Cali usually tried to see the good in everyone, but her new neighbors left a lot to be desired. She wondered how many of them were drug dealers or killers.
âBut Iâm living my dream,â she muttered under her breath, gagging when she walked by a bag at the apartment next to hers with something stinky inside.
The doorway across from her apartment opened and a tall, muscular man stepped out. His well-built arms made Cali gulp with fear and the scowl on his face didnât invite friendly conversation.
She gripped the pepper spray canister attached to her key ring as she walked toward him, knowing she had to be ready if he came after her. Sheâd already learned that lesson on the subway last week. A thug overtook her while she rested and stole her purse, which would cause her aggravation for some time to come. People were different in New York than they were back home.
Just as the man was about to pass, a low hissing sound traveled through the hallway, making Cali jump and fumble her key chain protection to the floor.
âAgain?â the man roared and pounded his fist against the wall with a short jab. âIâm sick of this crap!â
Cali pressed herself flat against the opposite hallway wall, not daring to bend over for her keys and be more vulnerable to the stranger. She turned her head briefly toward the hissing, noting a large ginger and white cat emerging from a garbage bag. The cat was a minor threat, however, and Cali fixed her attention on her neighbor.
âDonât worry, miss,â the man said. âHe probably wonât hurt you. Itâs me he wants a piece of. I hate that cat.â
Swallowing quickly, Cali struggled to moisten her tight throat so she could speak. It seemed the man had misunderstood her fear. He must not be planning to attack if he assumed her fear wasnât directed toward his scowling face and bulging biceps. âI thought cats werenât allowed in this building,â she managed to say. âYouâve seen him before?â
The man rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated. âYeah. Thatâs Jasper. Heâs a service animal for the weirdo who lives in the apartment above yours.â He stuck his hand out. âIâm Clint, by the way. Been meaning to introduce myself since you moved in last week, but I work nights so itâs tough to sync up schedules with daytime folks.â
As he gave her a reassuring grin, Caliâs fear began to melt away. This was the first person in the building to offer her their name or a friendly word. Cali didnât know anyone in this city and was awfully lonesome. Maybe Clint wasnât so bad. She shook his hand. âIâm Cali. Just moved here to work as an assistant for an interior decorator down in Manhattan.â
Jasper stopped hissing and walked toward Cali and Clint. Even though the catâs eyes stayed trained on Clint, he came up to Cali and rubbed against her leg in a friendly enough fashion.
âOf course he would like you,â Clint grumped. âDamn thing bit me last time he got out and I tried to take him home. No one can control him, but the woman who lived in your apartment before you managed to handle him.â He glared down at the cat. âYouâre pure evil, Jasper.â
âDo you have a number for his owner?â Cali asked. âWe really should get him home.â She wrinkled her nose, thinking about what Jasper might be rubbing against her work slacks. âHeâs going to need a bath after digging through that garbage bag.â
âIf our neighbors gave a shââ He paused. âSorry, Cali, I meant a crap. If they gave a crap about where we lived, Jasper wouldnât have rotting garbage to dig through.â
She nodded her agreement. âItâs definitely a lot different than where I come from. Unfortunately, The Bronx is the only place in New York City I can afford. At least the subway ride down to my job in Manhattan isnât too bad.â If she didnât include getting robbed last week, of course.
âYeah, itâs cheap but weâre basically living in the slums. Our slumlord doesnât give a crap about this place. Iâve never seen the owner show his face around here, of course. All he cares about is our money. I used to try and clean up, but itâs pointless.â
She couldnât worry about that. The hallway wasnât her problem. Then again, she had a furry, orange problem still rubbing her leg. âSo, about the catâs owner…?â
âI donât know his number, but he lives upstairs right above you. Apartment seven.â Clint narrowed his eyes. âBe careful around him. I wasnât kidding when I called him a weirdo.â
Gulping, Cali twisted her hands together. âWhat do you mean? Is he dangerous?â Maybe sheâd just mind her own business and let Jasper roam the halls until his owner came to find him.
âNot dangerous,â Clint reassured her. âBut definitely not normal. Donât expect to see him. He never comes out of his apartment.â
âThen how can I give him the cat?â
Clintâs black bushy eyebrows scrunched down and then he shrugged. âThere used to be a cat carrier up there to put him in. This little jerk gets out at least a few times a month. I wish heâd get some bad garbage and we could get rid of him for good.â
Cali widened her eyes in shock. Maybe Clint wasnât the good guy she thought. Who could wish death on a poor cat?
She glanced down, finding that Jasper had sat next to her foot with his tail curled around the back of her high-heeled shoe. He purred loudly, licking whatever heâd gotten into off his paw.
âIâll take him home,â Cali decided. His owner had to be a good person if he liked animals. Weird was a relatively broad term in this strange town as far as Cali was concerned. The owner couldnât be any worse than some of the people sheâd already come across. âIt was nice to meet you, Clint. Iâm glad to know someone in the building finally.â After all, it wouldnât do her any good to be rude to him, even if he wasnât as kind as sheâd hoped.
Clint bent down, snagging her keys off the ground. Jasper hissed again and took a swipe at his face, but Clint was too fast. He handed them to her. âProbably wonât see much of me, due to the opposite schedules, but if you ever need anything, let me know. Pretty, young girl like you living all alone in a place like this?â He shook his head, expressing his disapproval. âDonât let any of the weirdos bug you, okay? Iâm gone from ten at night until ten in the morning, but Iâm normally here sleeping other than that. Holler if you need me.â
As Cali accepted her keys, she realized her over-simple method of judging good and bad might not work for her in such a diverse area of people. Clint might not be a saint, but he wasnât all bad. âThatâs very nice of you. Thank you so much.â
Grinning, Clint took off down the hallway, continuing to wherever heâd planned to go before running into her.
Cali looked down at the cat and sighed. Speaking of weirdos in the building, she needed to go meet one now. âCome on, Jasper. Letâs take you home.â
She bent down, holding her hand out for the cat to sniff. After heâd thoroughly inspected her hand and began purring again, she lifted him from the floor and cradled him to her chest.
The rotting smell became stronger with the cat so close to her nose, and Cali hoped she didnât have many problems returning him to his owner. She definitely needed a shower.
***
Stepping onto the top floor of the apartment building was like walking into a different world. The walls and linoleum flooring were spotless and not a single garbage bag graced the hallway. A crisp, clean scent of pine pervaded the area.
Cali scratched behind Jasperâs ears. âWhy would you ever run away from this place to dig through trash?â
Jasper only purred louder in response. For Clintâs claims of the cat being such a vicious beast, Jasper hadnât offered to bite her once on the way up the stairwell. He continued to be docile and sweet while they moved toward his home. If only he didnât stink so badly, Cali might enjoy holding him.
Sheâd never been allowed to have a cat growing up, though sheâd spent a lot of time trying to make friends with the feral cats that lived on nearby farms. Sheâd always wanted one, and Jasper was just the loving sort of furry friend she wished to have. She wondered what type of weirdo a person had to be in order to get a cat as a service animal. Sheâd love to have one if she qualifiedâafter all, no one could really claim to be ânormal.â
With growing trepidation, she reached apartment number seven. There wasnât a cat carrier by the door, so Cali hoped Clint had exaggerated when he said the person living inside never came out.
âHere goes nothing, Jasper.â Cali raised her hand and knocked, holding her breath as she waited for a response.
After several moments, her heart continued to hammer away with nerves but no one came to the door. She knocked again, longer and harder.
âGo away!â yelled a deep voice from inside.
âIâm sorry to bother you,â Cali yelled near the crack in the door. âI have Jasper. He was digging through garbage downstairs.â
âSo put him inside the door and leave.â
The man definitely wasnât friendly, but it seemed Cali could at least drop the cat off.
She tried the knob and it turned easily in her hand. A small part of her worried whether the man would be on the other side, ready to jump her and steal her new purse, but Clint said he wasnât dangerous, just weird.
What awaited her on the other side of the door was a surprise. It was a small room with another closed door. Logically, sheâd expected the apartment to be set up like hers. She never figured someone would have a pointless room inside their entryway.
More nervous than before, she walked into the room and tried the knob on the second door. That knob didnât turn in her grasp. âSir? The door is locked.â
âSet Jasper down out there and shut him in. Iâll get him after you leave.â
Something was certainly different about this situation, but at least Jasper could get home. Then again, Cali worried about the man living here. Clint said he never came out of his house. Why would that be? She knew how lonely she was living in this city and not knowing anyone. Purposely avoiding everyone was the strangest thing Cali had ever heard. This man definitely needed Jasper, just so he had some companionship and wasnât completely alone. How sad that seemed.
âLook, sir, Iâm new here,â she said through the door. âMy name is Cali Johnson and I live in the apartment right below you.â She hesitated, wondering if that was too much information to give to a stranger. She wasnât used to watching what she said or worrying about stranger danger. Strangers were an unusual occurrence in her small hometown except when tourists came through, and Cali never worried much about them.
Deciding she wanted to help this man even if he was a stranger, she forged on. âHow about I give you my phone number in case Jasper gets out again? Iâll keep an eye on him for you. My neighbor said he gets out a few times a month, and he seems to have a problem with Jasper. Iâd hate for you to lose your cat because no one brings him home.â
A loud snort came from the other side of the doorway. âWhy would you do that? You donât even know me.â
âIsnât that what people do?â she asked, sincerely shocked. âItâs the holidays. Christmas is just around the corner. Isnât this a time to be kind to other people?â
âGreat,â the man said. âOne of those bleeding heart types. You all want to help others until itâs an inconvenience to you and you stop helping.â
He certainly wasnât grateful, but Cali reminded herself that she shouldnât do nice things in the hopes of getting recognition for it. Being kind was reward enough.
Awkwardly, because of Jasperâs heavy weight in her arm, Cali sifted through her new purse and found a receipt from lunch. Not daring to shut herself inside the small room in case the door didnât open back up and the âweirdoâ trapped her, she couldnât put Jasper down. Carefully, she managed to write out a shaky message with her name and phone number. âI hope someone would help me if I were in the same situation, sir. Iâm leaving my phone number. Call if you need anything at all. I just moved to the city and donât know many people, so Iâm home a lot besides going to work. Jasper seems like a good boy. Iâll keep an eye out for him.â
âIf I could keep the damn cat inside the house, it wouldnât be a problem. Heâs tricky. Always sneaking out when the groceries get delivered. He hides in that room until the door gets opened again.â
Even his groceries were delivered? The man must have quite a bit of money, despite living in a rough neighborhood and a rundown building. It explained why the hallway up here smelled good and was free from trash. He must pay to have it cleaned so his delivery people wouldnât have issues making it to his door. Not that money mattered if he were trapped inside his home.
âIâll help out,â Cali promised. âJasper seems like a good boy. Oh, I didnât catch your name.â
âI didnât throw it,â the growly voice replied.
She sighed. âWell then, have a good evening, sir. Iâll leave Jasper and go now.â
Setting the slip of paper with her phone number on the ground, Cali stroked Jasperâs chin and kissed his head despite the smell. âBe good, boy.â
Carefully she backed from the room, set Jasper on the floor, and shut the door.
Bestselling author Chantel Rhondeau once thought a great mystery or fantasy book with strong romantic themes was the highest level of reading bliss. After reading her first romantic suspense novel, she never looked back. Chantel is author of six romantic suspense novels, a Christmas novella, and the new McCallisterâs Paradise series with many more in the works. She lives in the western United States, and when she’s not writing she loves playing cards with her family, bowling on leagues, and snuggling with her lazy kitties.
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