Diesel chirped because he heard the word treats. He had figured that one out early on.

“Yes, I guess you can have a bit more,” I told him. “But only a bit.”

The cat stared at me for a moment, then held up a paw and licked it. We’ll see about that. I could almost hear him saying the words.

Helen Louise appeared with a small tray of food and drink. More water and some chicken for Diesel, an iced Diet Coke and a small quiche for me.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” I said. “The quiche looks wonderful. What kind is it?”

“Spinach, onion, and Gruyère cheese. No bacon or sausage, I’m afraid.” She grinned.

“Sounds heavenly.” I cut into it with my knife and fork while Helen Louise doled out chicken. The flavor of the first mouthful made me happy, and I chewed with enthusiasm. Helen Louise watched and then relaxed when I smiled broadly. “Très délicieux.” My accent was execrable, no doubt, but I knew she appreciated my effort. She wanted to take me to Paris one day, and I had no argument with the plan, but I was determined to learn a bit of French before we went.

She fed Diesel the last of the chicken and wiped her fingers on a napkin. Her assistant, Debbie, called her then, and she shrugged an apology. “Later,” she promised as she went back to work.

Diesel grumbled because there were no more treats forthcoming. He stared hopefully at me, but I couldn’t let him have anything with onions and cheese in it. Onions in particular were not good for felines. “Sorry, boy, this is not Diesel-appropriate. You’ve had more than enough goodies for today.”

When he realized I wasn’t going to give in and let him have a bite, he stretched out under the table, his head facing away from me. He could sulk all he wanted but he wasn’t getting anything more to eat.

I finished my quiche, savoring every bite, and polished off the Diet Coke as well. My headache disappeared, and I felt much better. Activity in the bakery had picked up again, and I figured Helen Louise would be too busy for a while to chat any further. I managed to catch her eye and wave good-bye. She smiled and waved back. I didn’t try to pay for my lunch. I had won a minor skirmish over the bottled water, and I decided not to press my luck.

“Come on, boy, time to go home.” I called Diesel from under the table and picked up his leash to lead him out to the car. He refused to move for a moment, but after I tugged on the leash three times, he relented and came with me. He was single-minded when it came to chicken, the stubborn little cuss.