The Stray Cat I Fed Warned Me About My Two Faced Best Friend Chapter 02

The Stray Cat I Fed Warned Me About My Two Faced Best Friend Chapter 02

“Vanessa, dinner with just the two of us sounds boring. Bring Derek, and I’ll ask Grant to come. The four of us can make a night of it.”

Vanessa hesitated.

“Why would we invite the guys to a girls’ night? We won’t be able to talk about anything private. Besides, Derek’s out of town for work, so he can’t come. You don’t need to bring your fiancé either.”

I rolled my eyes.

When Vanessa first found out Grant was handsome, wealthy, and from a well-connected family, she had practically glued herself to my side.

She had even followed him on Instagram and started sending him private messages without telling me.

Now she suddenly didn’t want him anywhere near us.

The more people there were, the harder it would be for her to carry out whatever she had planned.

“Fine. Just the two of us,” I said pleasantly.

“Perfect! I’ll head over right now.”

She sounded almost giddy.

I glanced out the window.

“Don’t. It’s raining. I’ll come pick you up.”

Vanessa agreed without giving it a second thought.

After hanging up, I crouched beside the cats and gently stroked one of them between the ears.

“Thank you.”

Then I went upstairs, changed, and left.

Half an hour later, I pulled up outside Vanessa’s apartment building.

She hurried toward the car beneath an umbrella and climbed into the passenger seat. An oversized sweatshirt concealed her stomach completely.

Her makeup was immaculate, but even a thick layer of concealer couldn’t hide the shadows beneath her eyes. Early pregnancy often came with exhaustion and constant sleepiness. Add a guilty conscience to that, and it was no wonder she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

“Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Vanessa fastened her seat belt.

“I’ve been thinking about your family’s snow crab legs and Cajun shrimp all day.”

I didn’t respond. I simply started the car.

Twenty minutes later, I parked outside a newly opened seafood boil restaurant.

Vanessa stared at the sign.

“Natalie, this isn’t your parents’ place.”

I switched off the engine with a smile.

“It’s Saturday, and Parker’s Seafood Boil is packed. I didn’t want you waiting forever for a table or getting annoyed because the kitchen was backed up.”

“A friend told me this place was excellent, so I thought we’d try it.”

Her expression stiffened for a fraction of a second.

“But I’m used to the way your family seasons their boil.”

I got out, walked around to the passenger side, and opened her door.

“Dinner’s on me, and I brought you somewhere nicer. Don’t tell me you’re going to complain about free food.”

Cornered, she had no choice but to climb out.

Let’s see how you blame my parents’ restaurant now, I thought.

Still, I wasn’t taking any chances.

Before joining Vanessa at the table, I asked a server if I could speak to the owner and found him near the kitchen entrance. He was a broad, heavyset man in his forties who was checking a fresh seafood delivery.

He noticed me looking around and gave me an easy smile.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Is the food here safe for pregnant customers?”

His expression turned serious rather than offended.

“Every seafood delivery and every sauce batch is logged. We keep strict temperature records, and the cameras in the kitchen and dining room run around the clock. We also passed our latest health inspection with no violations. If there’s ever a problem, we can trace exactly which ingredients went into every order.”

That was far more reassuring than an empty promise.

I returned to the table, where Vanessa was studying the menu.

When she saw me, she set down her phone. Her gaze immediately shifted to the drink in front of me.

“What did you order? That looks really good.”

I already suspected she was setting another trap, so I picked up the glass and took a sip before answering.

“Strawberry lemonade.”

Then I waved over the server and ordered an identical one for her.

Vanessa’s expression faltered, but she quickly smiled again.

“You don’t have to order another one. We’re best friends. We can share yours.”

“I’m coming down with a cold. I’m not letting you catch it.”

Vanessa took several sips from the fresh glass. Nothing happened.

I discreetly checked my phone.

7:50 p.m.

Ten minutes remained until the time the cats had warned me about.

A server arrived carrying a large metal tray piled with snow crab legs, shrimp, crawfish, corn, potatoes, and smoked sausage, all coated in a deep red Cajun garlic-butter sauce.

Steam rolled off the food, filling the table with the scent of spice, garlic, and seafood.

Vanessa immediately reached for a crab leg. She cracked the shell cleanly, dipped the meat in the extra-hot sauce, and ate without the slightest hesitation.

Nothing about her behavior suggested she was worried about what a pregnant woman should or shouldn’t be eating.