He shrugs. “I like the cabin. My chalet isn’t ready yet. Anyway, sometimes it’s nice to get away from the… pressure. Being the boss isn’t always fun.”

My stomach dips. The boss thing is an issue for both of us, it seems.

“I’ll move up there eventually. Staff housing and the last few chalets are the priority at the moment.”

“You’re going to live in a chalet like a member?” I ask.

“Sort of.” Before I can ask what that means, he says, “Did you find out who lost the cat?”

Rachel comes back with our orders, which are basically enough to feed the town for the rest of the weekend. I think I could get full just by inhaling the scent of the stack of pancakes. Each of them is as thick as my palm and the same golden color as the jug of syrup Rachel slides onto the table.

“Eggs,” I say, nodding at Byron’s plate. He furrows his brow like he’s wondering whether there’s more to that observation, or if I just like to state the obvious. “They look good.”

“They are. Will makes the best eggs. Or at least he did fifteen years ago when I last had them.”

“You never came back? Not even to visit?”

“You were talking about the cat,” he says, ignoring my question.

“Yes, let’s change the subject again,” I say with a grin. If he doesn’t want to talk about himself, that’s fine, but I’m not going to let him think I didn’t notice. “She didn’t have a chip and no one’s called looking for her. Donna said they don’t keep lost cats, not unless…” I run a finger across my neck.

Byron bursts out laughing. “Fred’s decapitating cats now?” he asks.

“Who the hell is Fred?”

“The vet.”

“Oh, I didn’t meet him. Just the receptionist. I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean literal decapitation. At least I hope not. But the end result would be the same. Athena would be no more.”

“Wow. Brutal.”

“Right? So I need to find the owner before I move into the staff housing on Tuesday. Donna said I should make some posters and put them around town. Then tell people in the stores that I’ve found her.”

“Sounds like a good idea. If you get me a poster, I can have my assistant make copies.”

“You’d do that?”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I’m sure Byron has bigger things to worry about than a missing cat.

“Thank you. I guess I’m going to spend the rest of the day going up and down Main Street, telling people I’ve found a cat. I need a megaphone or something.”