Sal, Butter and Pepper || ONC2024

Chapter 11: Say yes

"Butter, sweetie, come to your mistress."

Sweetie looked at his mistress; his green eyes brimmed with woe. 

"Little one, come to me, please. I really want to spend more time with your beautiful mistress."

The little one looked at the man he had pinned his mistress's future happiness on. 

"Don't try to turn his head with lies." Pepper snapped at Sal. Avoiding his eyes, she turned and winked at Butter before mouthing, "Do your thing, B." 

"I never lie. Twist the truth a little, maybe, but never lie."

Pepper huffed a lock of her hair out of her eyes. "Don't listen to him, B. Come on, you know what you need to do."

Salvador shook his head. Amusement shone in his soulful gold irises. It reminded Butter of Halloween for some reason. Also, the man was clearly holding in his laugh. 

"It's sweet how you talk to him like he is your best friend. You have a strong bond. I can sense it. If you keep it up, he will talk back one day. How will you explain that to the world?"

"I will tell them that I am a witch and that he is my equally magical familiar."

A loud, uninhibited laugh escaped Sal's chest. His whole body, all six feet of it, shook. "Yes, tell them that. It will shut them up."

"Shut up!" The witch's calm facade broke for a moment. She left a sigh and hung her head. "I didn't mean it rudely, I am sorry."

"I know. No need to apologize." Sal gestured to the terrified kitten to approach him. “Come on, buddy. Pick me.”

"B, show him where your loyalties lie," said Pepper. 

Butter closed his eyes. I am doing this for my mistress, my Pepper, he thought repeatedly, praying the words would fuel his steps, steps that took him into the waiting arms of Salvador Hart. 

"Thanks, little one."

"Butter, nooooooo!"

Butter buried his face in the man's maroon suit and wagged his tail. 

"What in the world are you doing, B?" fuming, Pepper reached for her kitten, but a muscular circle of arms kept him out of her reach. 

Salvador stood up, caressing the tuft of golden fur on Butter's head; he said, "Now. Now. Don't be a spoilt sport. It's not his fault that he likes me."

"Hand. Him. Over," Pepper said, making Butter tremble. When upset, his mistress was one scary witch. 

And boy, had he upset her. 

"Ms. Woodgrip, come on. You are putting him in a tough spot, don't you think?"

"How so?"

Butter looked at his mistress's pursed lips; her hands were crossed over her middle, and she was tapping her left foot on the ground. 

"The little one clearly loves you, or he wouldn't have picked me over you."

"Do you realize you are not making any sense, Mr. Hart?"

"We can have a civilized conversation about it when we return to our seats."

"Why can't we talk here?"

Butter wanted to facepalm himself. Alas, it would look unnatural if he did. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why his mistress wanted to spend more time in the boiler room of the resort instead of somewhere lovely like the flower-decked lawn Sal had suggested.