The first time Cat read the letter, she felt like she was in a nightmare. She had thought that the whole thing was behind her, now. The man had been satisfied with the check Mr. Peabody had given him, hadn't he? She hadn't been confronted by anyone else after that. Obviously, she had been foolishly wrong.

Cat sat on the couch, head in her hands. She didn't have money for a lawyer, and a court date would definitely taint her name. She'd lose what little savings she had. Worse, she would probably go to jail.

She didn't sleep at all that night.

She thought about not going to work the next day. What was the point? What was the point of doing anything, now? Despite her sudden depression and hopelessness, she forced herself to go to work, though it was obvious that she was going to break down at any moment.

When Mr. Peabody saw her that morning shortly after she arrived, he immediately took her aside and asked her what was wrong. Once they were in his office, Cat fell apart. She tearfully told him about the letter she had gotten the day before. Before he could say anything, she immediately apologized. "I am sorry I got you involved in all this. I think the best thing for me to do would be to resign from my job."

Mr. Peabody shook his head. "We're going to fight this," he told her.

"It's my fault! If I hadn't thrown the guy, none of this would have happened!" Cat sobbed. She couldn't hide her despair no matter how desperately she wanted to. It was all too much.

Mr. Peabody handed her some tissues and let her cry. When she calmed down, he spoke again. "We're going to fight this. This has nothing to do with justice and all to do with greed."

"How do you know?"

"I know Edwina Grunion, and she is a money-hungry...well, let's just say she's a very unpleasant woman. This matter should have been solved the day it happened, but, unfortunately, it seems that Ms. Grunion wants to prolong it. She is a bully, plain and simple. We will not let her win."

Before she could protest, Mr. Peabody picked up his phone. "I am calling my lawyer. If it is a fight Grunion wants, it is a fight she will get."

Cat didn't interrupt him as he made the phone call. She just sat, growing more ashamed by the moment. He seemed adamant about the whole thing, but why? Was she really worth all this trouble? She listened as the canine talked to his lawyer, telling him about the situation. Soon, he handed the phone to Cat, who greeted the person on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Cathleen. I am Thomas Retterman, Mr. Peabody's attorney. In your own words, tell me what happened last Sunday," the man said, professionally.

Cat told him the events that occurred the night the man had hurt Mr. Peabody at the restaurant she formerly worked at. Her anger surfaced as she talked about it, but she spoke as calmly as she could. After she was finished telling the story, Mr. Retterman stated, "I will take your case. We need to meet before the trial. I'll have my secretary get in touch with you."

The young woman agreed and gave him her phone number, then they said their farewells and hung up. Mr. Peabody told her, "Now, all we need to do is wait for you two to set up a meeting."

Cat nodded. "Will you go with me?"

"Yes, of course." In a comforting voice, he said, "You have nothing to worry about. Mr. Retterman is very good at what he does. He's handled many cases for me. I have complete confidence in him."

Cat nodded again, trying to put herself at ease, though the only thing she could really do was hide her fears. For the rest of the day, she put up a wall keeping her coworkers from seeing her real feelings so she could appear normal and keep them from worrying and asking questions. She focused on her work and said very little, but was mindful to speak pleasantly when she did interact with others. It lifted her spirits when Margaret told her that she was doing a fantastic job, and that helped carry her through the day.

When work was over and Cat was at home by herself, her wall crumbled, and terror took over her entire being. She couldn't stop thinking about it; she was going to go to court over something she did. It didn't matter if Mr. Retterman was a good lawyer or not; she had physically hurt someone, and there was no denying that there was a solid case against her. She would lose everything.

Cat briefly considered committing suicide, then thought of the various ways she could carry it out. Her phone ringing interrupted her thoughts, and she answered. It was Mr. Retterman's secretary calling to schedule the meeting. They set it up for that Friday at 4. After she hung up, Cat took some sleeping pills and went to sleep.

The days trudged on until Friday finally arrived. Cat quickly went home after work to change into different clothes and freshen up, then she took a cab to Mr. Retterman's office, where she met Mr. Peabody outside. They greeted each other, cordially, and Mr. Peabody attempted to strike up a conversation since they were a little early. However, Cat interrupted, looking around and up at the sky, anxiously, "I'm sorry, but could we continue this inside?"

Mr. Peabody nodded. "Of course." Once inside, they spoke, casually, in the waiting room until the secretary told them that Mr. Retterman was ready to see them.

Cat followed the canine into a clean, gray office, where a man was sitting behind a desk. He wore an unrinkled, gray suit and had dark brown hair that was neatly combed. He smiled, politely, at them and stood up and shook Mr. Peabody's paw and Cat's hand. "Good evening to both of you. Please, have a seat."

The two sat down across from the lawyer. "It's good to see you, Thomas, although it's unfortunate it's under these circumstances," stated Mr. Peabody, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Yes, it's a pity." When Mr. Retterman saw Cat's worried face, he smiled, reassuringly. "However, it's nothing that we can't handle. Mostly me. Now, Cathleen, everything will be fine. I've dealt with Edwina Grunion before, and let me tell you, all she sees is dollar signs. She is going to try to milk this thing until the cow is dry, but we're not going to let her. Mostly me. All you have to do is say exactly what I tell you, and you'll be fine."

Cat nodded, hesitantly.

"Do you have the letter she sent you with you?"

"Yes," the young woman replied, handing it to the lawyer. He carefully read it. "Well, there's some time until the court date."

"She...she has a valid case against me," Cat spoke, slightly shaky.

"Not really. You didn't do anything to her personally."

Mr. Peabody agreed with the lawyer. "Besides, you didn't instigate the incident. I don't even see why she's doing this."

"Money," replied Mr. Retterman. "She wants to get anything she can out of anybody she can. Anyway..."

Cat mostly stayed silent throughout the meeting, nodding or shaking her head at the yes or no questions the lawyer asked her. When it was all over, Mr. Retterman told Mr. Peabody and her that he would see them again on a day closer to the court date. The three said their goodbyes, and the woman and the canine left the office.

Outside, Mr. Peabody walked to a red motorscooter while Cat waited for a cab. The canine asked, politely, "Do you need a ride home?"

"No, thank you. I'll just wait for a cab."

"It would be no trouble for me to take you."

Cat paused, then finally accepted his offer. She looked at the motorscooter, uneasily. "It's perfectly safe," Mr. Peabody said.

Cat carefully got on it, sitting behind the canine. He revved the vehicle up, then he drove away from the building.

The weather was cool, and the sky was clear. The wind whipped through Cat's hair, and it felt exhilarating. "I've never ridden on anything like this before," she told Mr. Peabody.

"There's always a first time for everything. Are you enjoying it?"

"Yes," she replied. She thought about getting one someday if she ever got the money to do so.

Mr. Peabody drove to the address she told him, and he stopped in front of the apartment building Cat lived in. As she got off the vehicle, Cat thanked him for the ride. Then, she didn't move. "Would you like to come inside for a bit?" she asked. "I hope that's not rude of me to ask, and I understand if you don't want to or if you're busy."

Before Cat had a chance to think about what she had just said, Mr. Peabody replied, "Yes, that would be nice. Thank you."

Surprised, Cat went inside the building with Mr. Peabody following. They walked to her apartment, and Cat unlocked the door. She opened it, allowing her guest to go in first. "Here, we are. Sorry about the mess," she stated, quickly, and became embarrassed. Surely, her tiny studio apartment looked like a dump compared to wherever he lived.

She invited him to sit on the couch, and he did. "Would you like a glass of water?" she offered.

He nodded. "Yes, please."

Cat got them both a glass of water. She handed him a cup and then sat down on the other end of the couch.

After taking a drink, Mr. Peabody said, looking around, "You have a lovely home."

"Thank you," the young woman said, nervously. She mentally facepalmed, wondering why in the world she invited her boss inside her place. She sipped her water, watching him study her home. "I know it's not much," she stated, apologetically.

"It's quite cozy." Mr. Peabody seemed to relax a little, which, in turn, made Cathleen relax. "What do you usually do after work?"

"I take classes, then I usually watch movies or play games on my laptop until I go to sleep," she responded. "Although, I admit I haven't been sleeping much, lately."

Mr. Peabody nodded, understanding. "You should sleep more; all this worry isn't good for you. Everything will be alright."

This was the first time in a long time someone had genuinely seemed to care about her well-being. Cat spoke, choked up, "I...I know, but I can't help it. I'm going to lose everything."

"No, you won't. I'm not going to let Ms. Grunion destroy your life. How about we go someplace for dinner to take your mind off of things? My treat."

Cat agreed, then asked him, "Where?"

"I know an amazing Italian restaurant. How does that sound?"

"Great. I love Italian food." She smiled, but her smile had a hint of nervousness in it, though she hid it well.

The two rode Mr. Peabody's motorscooter to another part of the city, stopping near a restaurant. They got off the vehicle, and Mr. Peabody held the door of the building open for her. She thanked him and walked inside. He followed.

After a bit of a wait, a host seated them at a table. Mr. Peabody and Cat sat across from each other. Soon, a waiter handed them both menus and asked for their drink order. Mr. Peabody stated he wanted water, and Cat requested a glass of red wine. The waiter nodded and left the diners to get their drinks.

Cat asked, "Did you mind that I got that?"

"Not at all," replied the canine. "Order anything you'd like."

Cat coughed a little, looking at her choices. She decided on some spaghetti and meatballs for her main course, and a slice of cheesecake for dessert. Mr. Peabody ordered the same. Their waiter came back with their drinks and took their food orders, then removed the menus and left to take the orders to the kitchen.

Cat took a sip of her wine, now having the chance to look around. The restaurant was cozy, decorated with warm tones and wood furniture. She relaxed as she let herself calm down, trying to take her mind off of the things that were bothering her.

Mr. Peabody and Cat chatted nonchalantly, mostly about work. Suddenly, the canine said, "Tell me about yourself."

"I think the interview is over," Cat laughed, trying to be funny.

Mr. Peabody chuckled a little. "I don't mean in a professional manner. I mean I want to know a little more about you."

Cat thought for a moment. "Well, I'm a New Yorker, born and bred." She stopped. "I...I really don't want anything I say to be held against me."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want you to fire me for not being like everyone else, like if I'm too different."

Mr. Peabody blinked in surprise. "Cathleen, I'm literally a dog. I'm not like everyone else. Why would I fire you for just being you? No one is exactly the same, anyway."

"Right." Cat looked slightly embarrassed, then said, "I like playing RPGs and life simulation games. I also do a bit of writing. I hate cooking and housework."

He smiled. "Those are very interesting traits. What do you like to write about?"

"Mostly poems. I don't really have any on hand, but I write some here and there. What about you? I want to know more about you."

"Well, I don't like to brag, but I'm an inventor, scientist, musician, artist, Olympic gold medalist, chef, politician...among many other things."

"I always heard and read that you're very talented."

"I suppose I am," he said, taking a drink of water.

"And modest."

Mr. Peabody chuckled. "I try to be, but I'm told I get carried away."

"I don't mind listening. I'm pretty boring and don't usually have much to talk about."

"You can change that. There's so much to do and see in life. Experiences create stories."

"Yeah, but I'm usually busy with work and school that any free time I have is spent winding down."

Mr. Peabody nodded. "You shouldn't miss out on too much, though. Life isn't just about work."

Cat agreed. "Maybe someday, I'll travel and do something interesting."

Soon, their food came, and after they thanked the waiter, they ate, slowly. At first, Cat seemed to enjoy her meal, but soon, her face became paler, paler than her skin tone. Mr. Peabody noticed this and asked, "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Her voice sounded sickly.

"You look ill. Are you alright?"

Cat suddenly shot up out of her seat and ran to the bathroom. She vomited in the toilet, barely making it. She stayed in the bathroom for twenty minutes, then cleaned herself and walked back to the table, where Mr. Peabody sat with a worried expression. As she sat down, the canine asked, "Cathleen, are you alright?"

The young woman nodded, weakly. "Something in the spaghetti didn't agree with me. I'll be okay."

"Do you want to go home?"

Cat shook her head. "I don't want to ruin this evening more than I have. Besides, we haven't gotten our dessert yet."

"You haven't ruined anything; I'm just concerned. I don't want you to get sick again."

"I won't. Please, don't worry. I feel much better, now."

Mr. Peabody looked unsure, but he agreed to them staying.

The waiter brought their desserts, and Cat seemed happier as she ate her slice of cheesecake. She had no other unpleasant incidents. Mr. Peabody ate his slice and stated, "This cheesecake is one of the best I've had in a long time."

"I agree; it's divine," said the young woman, cheerfully, trying to put the canine at ease. She attempted to hide a look of guilt. Whether it worked or not, she didn't know.

After a while of eating and pleasantly chatting, they both finished. Mr. Peabody left a tip for the waiter. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Cat nodded and stood up. The two left the restaurant and got on the motorscooter. As they rode home, Cat said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Mr. Peabody asked.

"For getting sick."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. Like you said, something probably didn't agree with you; it's not your fault."

"I'd like to make it up to you. Perhaps next time, I'll pay for the meal...if you want there to be a next time." She said the last part, carefully and with uncertainty.

"I'd like that, but there's nothing for you to make up."

Cat smiled. "Thank you for being so understanding. Perhaps next week we should go somewhere different, maybe an Asian restaurant. Do you like Asian food?"

"Yes, and I think that would be a good idea," stated Mr. Peabody as they stopped in front of the apartment building Cat lived in.

As Cat got off the vehicle, she thanked Mr. Peabody for the meal. They said their goodbyes, and Cat went into her apartment, where she laid on the couch and rested, settling her stomach. She felt terrible, not so much physically. Although Mr. Peabody had assured her she had done nothing wrong, she still couldn't help feeling guilty for the interruption she had caused. At least this distracted her from thinking about more serious problems going on in her life at the moment.