Andrea couldn’t believe she was doing this. She had moved across half a continent so that she wouldn’t have to bring a new boyfriend home for her mother’s approval; now she had invited Lance to dinner to get her cat’s approval. Well, that was an exaggeration. Getting away from her family hadn’t been the only reason for her move. The job was great, and Phoenix had many advantages over Minneapolis, especially in February.

And she wasn’t exactly asking Boo’s approval. Her relationship with Lance had reached the stage when she really should feed him once. Still, she had learned with Roy how awkward it could get when your guy didn’t get along with your cat. And she was conscious that Roy was gone while Boo still perched on her coffee table.

He was off the table and under the bed, though, before she heard the knock at the door. She opened the door, Lance came in, and they had a nice kiss.

“Sit out here for another minute,” she said. “I haven’t quite finished dinner.”

She started up the flame under the oven and opened the grill drawer. By the time she had the chicken breasts out of the refrigerator, Boo was in the kitchen lapping from his water dish and paying her no attention. Nevertheless, she took care that the chicken went from the marinade to the grill without leaving one piece on a cat-accessible surface.

By the time she had set the timer, drained the marinade, and rinsed the bowl, Boo was gone. She stood in the doorway into the living room to watch him sniff the cuff of Lance’s khakis. Lance gave her a smile, but she was certain that most of his attention was on Boo. He didn’t look at him, though.

Considering how often Boo used the “I have no interest in what you’re doing” ploy himself, it was strange that he fell for it so easily. He expected to be the center of attention, and when Lance made no response, Boo jumped on the sofa and butted his thigh. Lance presented his fingers for inspection, and Boo sniffed once, then, he lay his head on Lance’s thigh. Lance scratched between his ears and then worked down to his neck Definitely a cat person.

“Boo likes you,” she said.

‘Well, it’s mutual. I like him – like her?”

“Him.” Boo was sometimes aggressively male, but he was being sweetly submissive right now. He even climbed into Lance’s lap. That had been her planned destination, but it was more important that these two make friends.

“I bet you got him on Halloween,” Lance said. It was a fair guess. Boo had a white bib and two white socks on his rear paws, but everything Lance – or she – could see when Boo was in this position was black. It was a fair guess, but it was wrong.

“His full name is Caboodle.”

“Originally Kitten Caboodle? ... Ouch!”

“Oh, Boo,” she said, “don’t claw the nice man who’s scratching your head.”

“He didn’t. Why should he claw me? I didn’t give him that silly name.”

“That’s it! Boo, Claw that humorless man to shreds!”

Now, when a dog hears two contradictory orders, it might get confused. A cat, however, is capable of ignoring any number of orders, contradictory or not. Boo just stretched a bit and moved another inch of skin under Lance’s finger.

Andrea spent a bit more time trying to figure whether being a cat person made up for having no appreciation for a joke. Then, the timer rang; she turned towards the kitchen. She heard the thump behind her of Boo hitting the floor. Before she had the tongs in her hand, Boo was licking up some food from his dish.

“If you touch the grill now,” she said as she pulled the drawer out, “you will scorch your dainty paws.” But Boo was being totally unaware that she was in the apartment, much less the kitchen. She used the tongs to turn each piece of chicken over, closed the drawer, washed the tongs and then her hands, and set the timer.

When she was back in the living room, Lance’s lap was empty. “I’ve decided,” she said while sitting in it, “that you have positive features to compensate for not appreciating puns.”

He took her face in his hands. “And what would one of these be?” he asked. Then he kissed her. He licked her lips, and when she opened them, his tongue stroked hers. The kiss was very thorough.

“Yeah. That’s definitely a good point ... We can’t get serious, though.” His fingers had gone to a button. “I set the timer again.”

Lance stayed on the outside of her blouse, but he kissed her again. The combined attention of his fingers and his tongue aroused her so much that she groaned when the timer rang again; she groaned but she got up.