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Snow fell outside as I woke up on Sunday morning. I went through my usual morning routine, brushing my teeth, taking a shower, and combing my hair. I didn't feel a hangover or anything from last night, so that was a relief. I turned on my TV to watch the news while eating a bowl of corn flakes. The anchorman covered the traffic and weather for a bit, mentioning a union protest over by the docks. I made a note to travel to the café from the north and went into my room to put on some good clothes. I took a buttoned-down shirt and a pair of jeans from my closet and put them on in my living room, so I could keep an eye on the news.

When I was about to grab my belt, another news anchor took over and started covering a new story.

"A rat-man's corpse was found on the west shore of the Crowchuck river. The body was taken by Twinriver authorities early in the morning for identification. The corpse is suspected to be that of banker and suspected mobster Luciano Rossi. Police say Rossi was last spotted on camera entering an unmarked vehicle on January 5th and was reported missing on the 7th by his family. If you have any information regarding the nature of his disappearance, please call..."

Another killing. Looked like Tony's crews were a lot sloppier than Angelo's were if the cops actually found a body. I frowned. Shame about Rossi, though. He seemed like a nice enough guy when I knew him. I think I ate dinner with him a few times. Must have done something to piss off the new management if he managed to earn himself a one-way ticket to hell.

I shook my head and put on my belt. That could have been me if I didn't retire. They probably wouldn't find anyone to ID me either. Least his family will have some closure. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank God I got out.

At 11:30 I made my way down to the lobby, where the human doorman greeted me on my way out.

"Good morning, Mr. Manzarelli. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing pretty well, going out to meet someone."

"Girlfriend?" He gave me a wide smile. How is it your fucking business?

I kept it curt while wearing a fake smile of my own. "A friend. Don't want to keep them waiting."

"Yes, right."

I walked down to my Toyota, glancing behind my shoulder the whole way down. I made sure to get a close look at every passerby. Something about that asshole really rubbed me the wrong way.

My car was a fucking mess like usual. I popped open the glove box to make sure my contingency measure was still in place, then pulled up the address for "Coffee King." Getting behind the wheel really calmed me down, and put my mind off of that bullshit in the lobby.

At noon on the dot, I had arrived at the café. The building was close to empty, a far cry from what it looked like just a few days earlier. The cashier, Kim, was having an engaging conversation with the woman I came here to see. Careful not to make a sound, I took a place in line right behind the rat-girl. letting her finish her conversation with her friend.

Kim gave me a smile and pointed my way, prompting Marcia to turn around.

"Hey, you!" The rat-girl's eyes scanned me up and down. "I thought we agreed to meet at noon, trying to squeeze some more time out of me?"

"Maybe," I flirted back. "Maybe I wanted to get out of the house a little bit, and meeting a cute girl a few minutes early seemed like the perfect excuse to do it."

"Bringing out the silver tongue today, aren't you? You know just the right thing to say, it amazes me." Behind Marcia, the cashier cleared her throat. Startled, the rat-girl turned around to apologize. "Sorry, Kim, forgot you had a business to run." She brushed my leg with her tail as she left towards the pink area. "I'll wait for you by the table, Dom. Our lovely cashier here says this one is good luck."

"Good luck?" I turned back to an embarrassed cashier.

"The colors for each of the tables. It's just something silly my Papa came up with to get people coming back to the store. Has to do with folk beliefs back in his hometown." She grabbed a pencil and notepad from next to the register. "What would you like to order?"

"A medium black coffee, and can I grab a glazed donut, too?"

"Sure thing. It's gonna be two-fifty." As I handed her the cash, she started whispering to me and motioning towards Marcia. "Speaking as a long-time friend, Marcy's never gotten a lot of attention from boys in school. I know for a fact that she hasn't had a boyfriend, like, ever, and this is the first date she's gone on for at least a few years. It's early, but I think she really likes you, so make sure you treat her right, OK? There'll be hell to pay if you don't."

I frowned. "What do you think I look like, some kind of scumbag? I'm not going to hurt her, she's way too sweet for that."

"We're on the same page, then," said Kim, pointing towards the rat-girl's table. "She's waiting for you, Dominic."

I made my way over to the table towards a smiling Marcia, her tail swishing in the air behind her. "So, first things first, congratulations on the job! You feel good to have that stress off your back?"

"Money isn't really an issue for my Mom and I, but it feels great to get back in the rhythm of a job again. I needed the routine."

"A rich girl, huh? I would never pin you for one."

"What's that supposed to mean, wise guy?" She asked, a smile growing on her face. "Is this rat not classy enough for your refined tastes, Dominic?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that. I mean you're approachable, and you don't dress super extravagant or demand all this attention. You aren't vain. I like it that way."

"You're just blowing smoke so you can keep me all to yourself."

"Maybe."

The server came out to deliver our food, and we both took a break to drink our coffee. We both decided to enjoy the silence of the shop for a little while, looking at the people passing by. After some minutes, Marcia spoke up. "You want to play the game where you see a stranger passing by and you try to make up a story about their whole life?"

"I haven't played that game in a while, but sure."

"Alright, I'll start. How about..." She stared across the street with narrow eyes before pointing to a human man exiting a brick office building. "That guy. Looks like he had a rough day at work, judging by the slouch."

I took a hard look at the businessman, drinking in every detail I could before adding my input. "His boss made fun of him today for that awful comb-over, which really bruised his ego."

"Couldn't have been a private comment. The poor guy must have been blasted in front of all of his colleagues. He was probably the laughingstock of the office today."

The man fumbled with his pockets and dialed someone up on his phone. "He's calling his wife to whine about it because she's the only one who will listen."

"I doubt she wants to, either. Does that look like a guy in a happy marriage to you?" She waved two fingers towards the man's reddening face. "She's probably laughing at him from the other end as we speak."

I let loose a snort. "Yeah, well I doubt he's a saint. Where do you think he was last night? Those office guys have to hold everything back; you know? He went out with a few college buddies to get drinks at the pub and unwind for once, and that shrew is probably talking his ear off for the fourth time in a month about it."

My date started laughing. "You really think the kind of guy who comes to the office on Sunday is the same that gets shit-faced the night before?"

"Fuck!" I fumbled around trying to think of some kind of response while Marcia continued to giggle like a maniac. Her red eyes sparkled with joy as she struggled to recover composure. Another good opportunity to shamelessly flirt, in my book. "You know you have really pretty eyes right?"

She smiled and tapped her claws on the desk. "You can't win by distracting me with flattery, Dom. Why is that schmuck coming to the office on a Sunday?"

I scratched my chin, pretending to think hard on it. "Maybe he had some work to catch up on and this was the best time for him. Or, maybe he wanted to catch a peek at the cute brown-haired rat-girl receptionist, to ask himself what if?"

"What did I say about flirting?"

I raised my hands. "I'm just speculating about the gentleman's life. Tell me I'm not playing by the rules. Your turn."

Marcia raised her eyebrows, as if she was holding something back. "Fine, my turn. The real reason he's upset is that the receptionist won't notice him. She's too busy fantasizing about the insatiable flirt with the dark hair and perfect smile talking to the other rat-girl across the road." I felt her tail start to coil around my ankle.

"And you were giving me crap. You barely said anything about the guy!"

With a sultry look in her eyes, she said "I'm not really interested in him anymore. I found something a lot more enticing." She pulled my leg towards her and leaned in for a kiss.

I pushed myself back lightly to avoid contact. "Marcia."

The rat-girl opened her eyes. "What? What's wrong." Her cheeks grew red and her ears folded back. "Did I read something wrong? I thought we were hitting it off?"

"We were hitting it off, I just didn't want to rush into things so fast. I'm not quite ready."

"You've been flirting this whole time, I thought you wanted to." She pouted. "You can't just lead a girl on like that, prick!" I caught Kim staring daggers at me from behind my date.

"We just don't know each other well enough yet. I think you're a cool person Marcia, but I don't kiss on a first date. How about I give you the next best thing?"

"You better."

I stood up and offered my hand to my date, who eagerly took it. Her paw was slender and soft, but she returned a firm grip. From there, we came together in a tight hug, with my arms around her shoulders and hers around my waist.

"You smell like espresso," I muttered.

"Really now, you sure it isn't the pounds of coffee currently being brewed in the back room?"

"You said you spend a lot of time at Coffee King, I don't know how long you were here this morning. Maybe you dunked your head into a pile of beans before I showed up."

Marcia pulled back and rolled her eyes. "What am I going to do with you? Well, I guess if you want us to know more about each other, how about we give each other our surnames? I don't want to keep you in my phone as just Dom forever. What if I find out I have a coworker named Dom and I lose track of who's who?"

I hoped I wasn't screwing over my chances here. If she looked me up, she could easily my mugshot, my trial, everything I've been disassociating myself from. It could have been over right here. But if there was anything here, it would only pay to be dishonest for so long. I'd have to give her a real name.

After a joke about being Dom with the "good hair", I said "My full name is Dominic Manzarelli."

Thankfully, she didn't seem to recognize the name, and typed it into her contacts with my number. "Manzarelli. Italian, huh?"

"Grandparents were all off the boat, yeah."

"That makes two of us then." she said. "My family name is Capodano."