"Pa," Palug said. "Not Ma, Pa. M'a boy so it's Pa." And he turned on his back and hooked her hand with an unclawed paw so she could scritch the wanton display of creamy, furry, grey spotted underparts - or his belly at least.
Turning over meant he could see into the lobby and spot the man standing watching her.
Jason - that adorable lady feline's servant - looking at Jazz.
"She wouldn't rub your belly in public," Palug said with a smirk. "Loser."