by C. Morgan
I paused and looked over my shoulder at him. “I’ve been sleeping fine. Why?”
“You look a little rough.”
“Ahh. Thank you, Drew. Charming as ever. You try having a five-year-old and coming out of a divorce to Satan’s mistress and tell me how rested you feel.”
Drew held up his hands innocently. “I’m not judging. I’m just saying. You need a vacation. I bet some time away would do you some good. Maybe you could, you know, sleep?”
“I just got back from Monaco. And Vegas shortly before that. And I’m going to Paris in a few weeks.”
“Paris absolutely does not count,” Drew said pointedly. “If anything, that’s the opposite of a vacation. It’s cruel and unusual punishment. Mona should be paying you to attend her wedding if she cares so much that you’re there. What do you think would be a fair price? Ten grand?”
“She’s paying for my flight and accommodation.”
“No, she’s not.” Drew shook his head. “Logan’s parents are. There’s a difference.”
I chuckled. At least I had people in my office that made me laugh every day. Sometimes, I really believed they were the only things keeping my head above water these days. Aside from Cora, of course.
I glanced down at my clipboard to review the file of my first patient of the day. A general checkup for an obese cat named O’Malley. I frowned at the paperwork. “Do you think Mrs. Dunn has had any success trimming this beast of a cat down?”
“That’s like asking if I think Mona is a good person.”
I snorted. “Enough said.”
I let myself into the exam room where an ever-anxious Mrs. Dunn sat waiting on the bench seat. Beside her was a cat crate. The metal door was open but the cat, who barely fit in the crate, was still inside. His fur stuck out of the bars on the side and I could see two big green eyes staring at me.
I ignored the cat and stood behind the counter where the scale awaited the burden of O’Malley.
“Good morning, Mrs. Dunn,” I said in my doctor’s voice. “How have you been? It’s been a little while, hasn’t it?”
Mrs. Dunn, a portly woman with hot pink glasses and permed gray hair, nodded vigorously and got to her feet. As per usual, she wore loose capris pants and flip flops. She wore flip flops all year round. “It’s been almost a year, Dr. Maddox. I’ve been doing what you said. I measure his food. I weigh him every week. I have a cat wheel in the living room. But I’m afraid he’s just as fat as he was the last time.”
I opened a drawer and found a bag of treats. After a vigorous shake and a soft meow from O’Malley, I poured two into my palm and approached the cage. Crouching down, I offered the treats to the cat. He followed his nose out of the crate, let me pick him up and put him on the scale, and began to purr as he ate the treats out of my hand.
He was a girthy cat and always had been. Mrs. Dunn had adopted him from a shelter, where he arrived chunky and round. We’d brought him down about five pounds, but he was still fifteen or so pounds overweight, which was going to cut years off his life. Mrs. Dunn lived alone and I knew how much she adored the cat. I wanted to keep the cat alive and healthy for its own sake, but more than that, I wanted to keep her furry companion by her side for as long as possible.
Lonely people with furry companions deserved all of my time and energy, so on a day like today I was forced to put all thoughts about the wedding and my own impending loneliness out of my mind.
The cat weighed in two pounds heavier than his last appointment.
Drew shot me an “I told you so” look.
We spent the rest of the appointment building a new course of action for Mrs. Dunn to pursue that would hopefully elicit better results. I scheduled an appointment four months from today so that we could monitor O’Malley a little closer. Mrs. Dunn didn’t have much money but I knew if the new plan and the new diet didn’t work, something might be wrong internally, and I wanted to avoid surgery if we could. She couldn’t afford a two-thousand-dollar bill to open the cat up and I didn’t want to charge her.
With any luck, the new food and the suggestion of an enclosed outdoor area off her back sliding door would help. If he had enough space to run in an enclosed area and chase birds, it might be enough to burn off just the right amount of calories and instill that sense of play back into him.
Time would tell.
Drew and I blew through our remaining appointments until two o’clock rolled around. I had to excuse myself and leave the clinic to pick up Cora as I’d promised. She was waiting for me at the curb beside one of her teachers. She had a big smile on her face and she waved at me as I pulled up against the side of the road. I got out of my truck and she met me with a fierce hug around my knees.
I put her backpack in the truck, thanked her teacher, and buckled her in the back seat.
This was Cora’s favorite part of the day. Sure, she loved school, but there was nothing better to her than leaving school and coming with me to the clinic. I didn’t have other childcare options at my disposal. My parents were long gone and I’d rather chew off my own right foot than call Mona’s parents to babysit. Daycare was simply out of the question due to finances being a little tight at the moment. All the travel I’d been doing as well as the child support I paid to Mona left little room in the budget to throw cash around.
Therefore, every week that Cora was with me, she came back to the clinic until we closed at five o’clock.
Upon returning to the clinic, Cora ran behind the reception desk to say hi to Kelly, who always had a snack prepared for my daughter. Today, it was cheese, crackers, grapes, and a cup of lukewarm tea. She sat beside Kelly as the receptionist took calls, booked future appointments, and greeted clients as they came in with their animals.
When Cora finished eating, she hopped down from her chair and hung out in the lobby so she could play with people’s pets.
Drew often joked that Cora was the reason our customers kept coming back.
I didn’t find it all that funny. I knew my daughter was charming, but I had to get some of the credit. I was the one who kept the animals alive after all, not my five-year-old.
Although she was pretty darn cute.
Cora was on her knees petting an elderly golden retriever when I came out of my second to last appointment for the day. He was going under to get an infected tooth removed and Cora seemed to have learned that for herself after talking to his master.
“It’s okay, Rupert,” Cora said to the tired old dog. “I don’t like the dentist either but you’ll feel so much better when that tooth comes out. My daddy is the best vet in San Francisco. He’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Rupert nuzzled her hand with his wet nose and closed his eyes.
His master, a middle-aged man with a sad smile, looked up at me. “Is it time?”
“Sure is, Mr. Finnigan. Come on back. We’ll review all the details before I take him in for surgery. I know my daughter is biased but she’s no liar. Rupert is in good hands with us. Say goodbye to Rupert, Cora.”
Cora gave Rupert one last scratch behind the ears, said goodbye, and watched Mr. Finnigan lead him toward me. The dog looked back at her and she waved like she was waving to a friend.
Again, I was struck with the kindness my child possessed, and I wondered how it was possible for something I made to be so bright and warm when I felt so dark and stormy inside.
Chapter 5
Natalie
I took my red coat down from the Swarovski coat rack and swung it around my shoulders to plunge one arm after the other into the plush lined sleeves. Victoria stood waiting patiently in the open door of the office. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair which got caught up in her lip gloss. She pulled the strand free and tapped the toe of her heel, ushering me to hurry up so we could get out of there for the night.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I said, hurrying out onto the sidewalk behind her.
She closed and locked the door. “It’s amazing you built such a successful business when the
most menial tasks take you so much longer than an average person.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You take twenty-minute showers and that’s not even on a morning when you’re shaving your legs.”
“I daydream when I’m in there. It’s not my fault.”
Victoria tried the handle to make sure it was locked. After confirming it was, she dropped her keys in her purse, pulled it up over her shoulder, and crammed her hands deep into her coat pockets.
We started walking up the block.
“So what did that Grady guy want?” she asked.
“He’s an old friend from when I worked the field. He has a guy he says he’s known a long time who could use a female companion for an upcoming wedding. His ex-wife’s wedding, to be exact.”
Victoria blinked. “Oh. Eww. Poor fucker. Why on earth is he going to his ex’s wedding?”
“Beats me. Grady must have said a thousand times how nice of a guy he was, so I assume he has no spine. Or he’s being guilted into it. Or it’s because they have a kid together.”
“Or a combination of all three.”
“Or that,” I agreed. “I think I’m going to see if he’d go with Moira or Anya. Moira deserves another booking with how hard she’s hustling, and I want her to treat herself to whatever it is she has her eye on. But if she’s not his type I’ll see what he thinks of Anya. Grady said the guy would like someone soft and sweet.”
“That’s Moira in a nutshell. Literally and figuratively. She always smells like vanilla and cinnamon and she’s soft in all the right places. Not to mention she’s an absolute lover girl with a heart of gold. She’s a shoo-in, no?”
“I think so too, but you never know with these guys. I’ll see if I can push him in her direction.” My stomach rumbled as we passed the coffee shop and closed in on the final block approaching our shared apartment. “What do you want to do for dinner?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Well, start thinking about it. I’m famished.”
“Pizza?”
“Boring.”
Victoria pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Pasta? I’ve been thinking about Alfredo’s primavera all week. We could get a side order of those little baked bread swirly things. Oh, and the spinach and artichoke dip. I could get down with that.”
I arched an eyebrow. Usually, Victoria was the one minding her portion sizes. “Are you closing in on your lady time of the month or something?”
“Obviously. Aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
She looped her arm through mine. “It’s settled then. Pasta and cheese.”
“And swirly bread.”
“And artichoke dip.”
I giggled. “Can’t forget the artichoke dip.”
“Wine?”
“Do you even need to ask?”
We lived in a small apartment building that used to be a large manor in downtown San Francisco. A generational family had lived there, but when they moved away and put the house on the market, it was subdivided into four apartments. It was only two levels, and Victoria and I had been lucky enough to secure a lease on the largest suite on the first floor. It was just over fifteen hundred square feet and it boasted an open-concept layout. The entryway flowed into the living room, which gave way to the dining room. Both rooms shared the front wall of windows that looked down on the street half a flight of stairs below. At the back of the apartment were the kitchen and two bedrooms and our shared bathroom/laundry room.
When we first moved in, the place had been outdated and somewhat dingy. Heavy lace curtains blocked too much natural daylight, and gloomy paint colors like slate and charcoal sucked all the life out of the space.
We’d hosted a painting party to get the place up to snuff. A dozen of our girls from the office came and helped us revamp. We had pizza and beer on a hot summer day, opened all the windows, and painted everything white. The original oak trim around the windows and baseboards had been painted over nearly a dozen times. I’d tried to salvage the natural wood but failed, so we painted all of that black, which gave the space dimension and a modern flair. Once we brought in all our furniture, most of which was modern and glamorous much like the furniture at my office, it began to feel like it was really ours.
Now, two years later, we were beginning to outgrow the place.
But it was still home.
When we walked through the front door, my black cat, Muse, was there to greet us. He wove between our legs with his tail sticking straight up and twitching. He was always happy to see us.
I crouched down, scooped him up, and bombarded him with kisses on top of his head.
He purred the whole time and Victoria shook her head at me. “There are hundreds of men in the world who would kill to be that cat. Better yet, there are hundreds of thousands.”
I scratched Muse under his chin. He craned his head all the way back. “He’s just such a lover. Aren’t you, Muse? No man could ever replace you.”
Victoria chuckled and set her purse down on the kitchen island. She hung her coat back by the front door and stepped out of her heels. “All right, let’s make a game plan for the evening. First, we take off our clothes and put on our sweats.”
“Obviously.”
“Second, you feed the cat and I’ll call and place our Alfredo’s order.”
“Who needs a man when they have a friend like you?”
“Third,” Victoria said with a wry smile, “we crack open a bottle of wine and see if there are any new apartment listings while we wait for the Alfredo’s delivery. Maybe if we’re lucky, it’ll be that cute guy with the messy hair and the glorious beard.”
I frowned. “I’m pretty sure he’s gay, Victoria.”
“So? I can still appreciate a good-looking man even if he doesn’t swing my way, can’t I?”
I shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Besides,” she said, “gay guys flirt with me all the time. It’s fun. And harmless. And it makes us both feel good.”
“Can I go put my sweatpants on now?” I asked.
Victoria banished me with a wave of her hand. I slipped out of the living room and ducked into my bedroom with Muse still in my arms. I put him down on the end of my bed while I stripped out of my tight black turtleneck, black jeans, shape wear, and heels. I neatly folded everything up that needed folding, hung up my shirt, and tossed my panties in my hamper. I traded them in for a cotton pair of bikini-cut panties, hopped into my most comfortable pajamas, and took out my earrings.
I scooped Muse back up and carried him into the kitchen. Victoria was just finishing her call to Alfredo’s. She slipped away to change while I filled Muse’s bowl and left him to eat in peace.
I waited for her in the living room. The sun had already set and the streetlights winked to life outside. I pulled my laptop out of my bag, flipped it open on my thighs, and opened the website we’d been using to keep on top of new listings.
We loved our little apartment, but it was beginning to feel just that—little. We needed more space. We wanted a three or four bedroom so we could have a home office to work out of instead of having to work at the dining-room table when we weren’t going into the office, like on Sundays. Now that money wasn’t the obstacle it used to be, we’d finally decided to bite the bullet and start looking for something new to make ours.
To say we were excited was an understatement.
We wanted something that was still close to the office. Something charming. Something spacious. Something inviting, with an open concept, a fireplace, and more than one bathroom. Something that wouldn’t require a painting party to make it look nice. Something we could settle into for the next five or so years while we continued building the business and leveling up our lives.
I also wanted something with a large dining room so I could host the girls from the office once every couple of months for big potlucks or dinners. I’d been dreaming about hosting a Christmas dinner for them for two years now and it see
med like maybe I’d get that wish next year.
If this past year was any indication, the time would pass quickly.
Victoria emerged from her bedroom in a pair of pink silk pajamas and a plush pink robe. She’d taken her makeup off and tied her hair up in a loose ponytail. She hurried to join me on the sofa, where she pulled a blanket down from the back cushions and draped it over her lap.
There was nothing my best friend liked more than being comfy. Aside from money, I supposed.
We positioned the laptop between us and I refreshed the web page.
New listings loaded in the next passing seconds.
We’d already put in our filters so nothing came up that wasn’t relevant for us, but that specificity meant not many listings came up at all. We had a total of four to sift through.
The first two were a write-off right away. Every room was broken off from each other. It wasn’t meant to host. It was designed for family members to easily avoid each other. We quickly moved on from those and opened the third.
Victoria made a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat. “Now that’s not bad.”
“We want better than ‘not bad,’ don’t we?”
Victoria made the images full screen. The apartment was on a third story eight blocks in the opposite direction than we were from the office. It had a large balcony, large enough to have a barbeque out there and room for some outdoor sofas, and a deep soaker tub in the bathroom off the master bedroom.
“Look.” Victoria pointed to a red speck in one of the background shots. “I think that’s our office. You can actually see our office from their balcony.”
Now that was a cool feature.
But I didn’t like the outdated kitchen, the narrow hallways and dingy lighting in the building itself, or the small windows. We could do better.