by Elaine Fox
“Allison, shut the door,” Megan said as calmly as she could.
Mrs. Fleiger fairly twitched in the corner of the room, where she’d retreated at Megan’s barked command.
The creature was under a thick lock of her hair, apparently feeling momentarily safe. “Let’s calm down, calm down, Mrs. Fleiger.”
“All right, all right. He’s never done this at home. He’s perfectly docile at home, even though he’s never really liked strangers.” She kneaded her hands together. “Oh God.”
“I thought you said he was tame.” Megan gave her a stern look.
“Well, he is. Except with other people. He’s good with me because I’ve been carrying him around here, during the days.” She pointed to her cleavage and the cloth pouch.
Megan remembered that this was standard bonding technique for sugar gliders but Allison looked at Mrs. Fleiger with disgust written all over her face.
“You keep it in your bra?” Allison exclaimed.
“Allison, I’ll explain later,” Megan said. “Please go back out to reception, I just heard the door chimes. Mrs. Fleiger, perhaps you should come over here—slowly—and try to get Jiminy out of my hair.”
Fifteen
Sutter entered the animal hospital with Twister straining on the leash just in time to hear a shriek come from the exam room. A moment later he heard a series of thumps, as if a struggle were going on. He was about to charge the door when it opened and a petite blond girl emerged.
She had one hand to her hair when she noticed him, startled, and said, “Oh!” Then she glanced at Twister, walked over to the counter and began flipping through the appointment book. “I’m not sure I have you down here. What’s your dog’s name?”
“Twister, but I’m just looking for Dr. Rose,” Sutter said. Twister strained at the leash, sniffing at the exam room door as if she might be able to follow her nose right though it.
Frowning, the girl looked at him critically and asked, “Have you got an appointment?”
“No.” He glanced back at the door from which she’d emerged. Things seemed quiet now. “Is everything all right in there?”
She looked up. “Oh yes. It was just a sugar glider got loose. I think they’re getting it out of Dr. Rose’s hair right now.”
“A…sugar glider?”
“Because we’re closed now,” she went on, clearly afraid of having to stay late. “The sugar glider was her last appointment. This isn’t an emergency, is it?” She glanced doubtfully at Twister, as if he couldn’t possibly claim an emergency with that healthy dog.
“No. I don’t need an appointment. I’m only here to see Dr. Rose,” he explained.
She gave him a bland look. “That’s usually what people make appointments for here.”
He raised a brow. “That’s not what I meant. I’m a friend of hers. This is a social call.”
“Oh,” she said, her tone full of sudden interest. “I didn’t know she had a friend in town already. I’ll tell her you’re here. What’s your name?”
“Sutter Foley.”
She paused, then her mouth dropped open. “No way.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I mean no way! You’re Sutter Foley? And you’re from England, that’s right. Oh my God, my boyfriend, like, worships you. Or, really, your computer stuff. He’s a total geek.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulders and tilted her head. “So are you really a billionaire?”
Sutter wondered what it was about himself and Megan that they ended up with assistants like Arnetta and this girl.
He was saved from deflecting the question by the opening of the exam room door. Megan, her hair tousled in a way that made him picture her naked in his bed, emerged with a short, dark-haired woman.
“So I should stop all the vitamins?” the woman asked, coming out of the door sideways and clutching her breasts. She was looking back at Megan.
“Yes,” Megan said, looking at a chart and following the woman out, “just for a couple days. Then add them back in slowly, a little at a time, so you can gauge how much they can handle before the smell returns.”
“And keep the cat out of that room,” the woman said, mentally noting.
“Absolutely. Remember, fear makes the males—” She glanced up and saw Sutter, stopping dead in her tracks.
“Oh sure, I knew that. Males’ anal glands smell when they’re afraid—” The woman turned to see him too, stopped talking and blushed red.
“Hello, Sutter,” Megan said.
Inexplicably, she wore the classic deer-in-the-headlights expression. Sutter wondered if there was any chance of regaining the carefree woman she was on every other meeting until last night and today.
“Oh wow,” the shorter woman said. “Are you Sutter Foley? My husband will die when I tell him I met you.”
“I know!” Allison contributed. “My boyfriend too! Are men, like, all total nerds or what?”
Sutter nodded at her, but returned his gaze to Megan. “I’m sorry to intrude but I assumed you would be closing up. I didn’t intend to interrupt your workday.”
Megan swallowed and visibly collected herself. “It’s all right. I’m just, uh, let me finish here.” She turned to the woman and said, “You let me know how that goes. If that doesn’t fix the problem, bring him back in and we’ll check him out again.”
“Yes, and I’ll bring the cage next time.” The woman giggled and spoke to her bosom. “No more escape tricks, you hear?”
Sutter sincerely hoped it listened.
Allison checked the woman out and Megan invited Sutter through the swinging door into the large back room. The place was filled with equipment and cages for the animals and another exam table. There was a back hall lined with bags of dog food—or maybe it was cat food—and an open door to another room revealed a large waist-high tub with a long sprayer attachment hanging from the ceiling.
Twister checked the place out thoroughly, too, for the six-foot radius she was allowed on the leash.
Megan turned in the center of the room and squatted to greet Twister with an affectionate voice, exclaiming how big she was getting, and body scratches to the writhing delight of the dog, who tried repeatedly to lap her with its tongue.
Finally, she stood and with a deep breath said, “I imagine this visit has to do with last night.”
She crossed her arms over her stomach. The expression on her face was as wary as he’d ever seen it. There’d be no falling into Megan Rose’s eyes today.
“Yes, I felt the need to follow up. I wanted to apologize,” he began, searching her face, but her expression gave nothing away. Perhaps she thought they had covered everything they needed to last night. Perhaps they had. But despite the fact that she had declared them finished last night, he still felt the need to inform her of his plans, just so she wouldn’t be surprised when the tabloids got hold of it.
He cleared his throat and continued, “First, to apologize again for leaping to conclusions. I misjudged you about that Tattler thing. It was inexcusable.”
She dropped her hands from their folded position and clasped them loosely before her. “Yes, that was insulting.”
He paused. Smoothing the waters churned up last night was going to be difficult, he’d known that—it was one reason he’d brought Twister, as an ice breaker—but he hadn’t expected to find this cool, contained person in place of the open-hearted Megan he’d come to count on.
“You’re upset,” he said, taking in her shuttered eyes and reserved posture. “And I certainly don’t blame you. Last night went from awkward to intolerable in the flash of an eye.” He forced a smile, and added, “Or rather, the flash of a camera.”
He was congratulating himself on this turn of phrase when she sighed heavily.
“I’m not upset, Sutter,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry I ran last night, after that photographer showed up. I’m sure that only made things worse. God knows what people are saying about it today. I was just taken by surprise.”
&n
bsp; “As was I.”
“Look, Sutter,” she said, moving slowly to the counter and leaning back against it. The move made her just a bit farther away from him. “It seems clear to me that the Tattler has it in for us. I mean, obviously they’re following you, so your coming here today is probably just adding fuel to the fire.”
The implication that he shouldn’t have come stung.
“I’m not going to change how I run my life for the bloody Tattler,” he declared, ready to take a bite out of anyone who said he should. But a second before he continued his rant he noted the look on her face and paused. “But that’s not taking into account what it does to you, does it?”
She didn’t reply. But he saw her swallow and her eyes didn’t leave his. It was as much of an admission as he would get from her, he knew.
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I’ve blown it again. I’m sorry. I seem to have caused nothing but trouble for you.”
He hadn’t meant it to sound so self-pitying, but that’s how it came out. And hell, perhaps that’s how it really was. He felt exiled from her. Cut off not only by the Tattler, but by the state of his own life. And he couldn’t blame her. Who would willingly sign on for a life of zero privacy and constant media intrusion? She’d said last night that she was not prepared to deal with such things and then she’d told him they were through. Whatever had made him think that she might be interested in his plans with regard to Briana was just sheer hubris.
She wanted nothing to do with him.
He turned around, giving a quick yank to Twister’s leash. “I should leave.”
“Sutter, wait,” she said, as if the words burst from her involuntarily.
He turned around. In fact she did look surprised at having stopped him. “I—I need to tell you…” she fumbled.
He couldn’t interpret the expression on her face but the intensity of it concerned him. She looked—urgent. Uncharacteristically grim.
“Yes?” His voice had an edge.
“Just…” She swallowed again. “I hope we’re ending on a good note.” She gave a strained laugh. “I mean, I don’t want…I understand…” She stopped, closed her eyes briefly, and took a breath. “I hope you know how much I treasure the time we had together. And I’ll always think of you…” She let the sentence trail off without an adverb.
Fondly? he wondered. With affection? As a spineless jerk?
“You speak as if one of us were dying.” He wanted to make the comment light, but couldn’t. It dropped like a stone between them.
She gave a small smile. “On the contrary.” She hesitated, then added, “I think we both know the lives we’re supposed to live are…not connected.”
“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?” Why was he so irritated? Why was she acting so odd?
This time she did laugh, and he got a glimpse of the old Megan. His heart twisted.
“Maybe so,” she said. “But we both also know that you belong in your world and I belong in mine. And the two don’t meet so much as collide.” She sighed.
He looked at her a long moment and knew that he had to let her go. She was like the butterfly who would die in captivity. For her to remain the woman he loved, she needed to be free of him.
“I understand,” he said at last. “But I want you to know that I…” How to say what she meant to him in a concise, yet unburdensome way? “I value our friendship. I hope we don’t lose all of that.”
He could have kicked himself for how incomparably lame that sounded. As he said it he knew the last thing he wanted from her was mere friendship. But his life was too complicated. Too inescapable.
“I’m not going to spit on you on the street or anything.” Laughter twinkled in her eyes a moment. “But I believe we’ll always be…friendly.”
“I should hope so,” he said stiffly. This was getting worse by the minute. He had to get out of here. “All right, then.” He turned away again, hoping against reason that she would call him back once more.
He longed to take her in his arms, to feel her soft, willing body burrowing into his, experience at least once more the freedom of their passion.
At this moment it was the one single thing he longed for, the comfort of her uncomplicated love.
Love.
The word startled him, even in his own thoughts.
He glanced back at her when he reached the door to the reception area. She hadn’t moved and she definitely hadn’t said anything. She was watching him leave, watching him walk out of her life. And yet she said nothing.
“Goodbye, Megan,” he said. “I do wish you well.”
She lifted her brows and took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
And still, she said nothing.
Megan missed her mother so much she could hardly stand it. She had died when Megan was in vet school but whenever times got tough Megan wished more than ever that she could call her. She would have been the one person to whom Megan would have immediately spilled the news about her pregnancy. And she’d also have been the one who would have known just what to do about Sutter.
Megan lay back on her bed. It was only seven o’clock, and she hadn’t had dinner, but all she wanted to do was sleep. This day had been too much. Seeing Sutter mere hours after learning about the baby had done her in. She hadn’t had a moment to think about how to tell him. She hadn’t had a moment to decide if she even would tell him.
Her mother would tell her she had to, Megan knew that as surely as if she’d voiced the question and heard her answer. She had a moral obligation to tell the father that he was going to be a father.
And for a moment today she had thought so too. As he’d stood in her office she’d almost told him. But then she couldn’t, and it didn’t seem such a crime to wait until she’d adjusted to the news herself.
But now Megan wasn’t sure. She couldn’t imagine how he would react. Based on his response to her appearance in the Tattler, she was pretty sure he’d think first of all the negatives. Like, was she trying to trap him? Had she lied to him about her inability to have children? Had she done this on purpose?
In fact she could not even imagine a positive response from him. For God’s sake, he’d thought she was trying to manipulate him by talking to a tabloid. Popping up with his baby would trump that in spades.
And how would that be for the child? For the poor innocent baby—her baby—who would only want love?
She put her hands on her belly and tears sprang to her eyes.
If nothing else, pregnancy explained why all of a sudden she was falling into tears wherever she went. It was something of a relief.
Then she thought about Sutter’s face at the animal hospital this evening. Yes, he’d sounded tough and irascible, but she had felt strongly that it was because he was conflicted. He didn’t want to let her go. And yet…he couldn’t commit to her either. And the last thing she wanted or needed was him twisting himself around to accommodate this circumstance. If they had any chance at all of having a relationship based on their feelings alone, without her having to wonder for all eternity if he was with her because of the baby, she had to see how things shook out without adding that complication.
He may not ever need to know at all…she thought, moments before drifting into a dreamless sleep.
The following morning, Megan shuffled into the kitchen to find her father, freshly dressed and looking nervous.
“What’s up, Dad?” she asked, eyeing him as she opened the refrigerator. “You’re looking awfully dapper for so early in the morning. Don’t tell me you just got in.”
She glanced at the clock—7:55—and looked back at her father with questioning eyes.
He hemmed and hawed a minute, making great work of folding the newspaper.
“You might as well know now,” he said gruffly, “since I won’t be able to hide it from you forever.”
He took the folded paper from the table and brought it to her, slapping it down on the kitchen counter.
“It’s
a con job, I tell you,” he said with a self-righteous tone. “Nothing’s going to come of it. They’re just hard up for stories.”
It was folded open to the third page of the A section, and a small headline over a three-paragraph article read, “Local Vet Caught Poaching Puppy.”
Megan’s heart sank, along with her stomach, and she pushed away the orange juice she’d just poured for herself.
Georgia Darling and Laurence “Doc” Rose, of Rose’s Animal Hospital, had been caught in Georgia’s ex-husband’s home, the article explained, allegedly trying to steal one of a new litter of puppies. Clifford Darling had not yet decided whether or not to press charges.
“It won’t stick,” her father said. “As soon as those lab reports come back that asshole Clifford will back off faster’n you can say stolen sperm.”
“Were you arrested?” she asked, scanning the article again. “Oh my God, Dad, it says here ‘Dr. Rose, of Rose’s Animal Hospital.’ People are going to think I broke into that house!”
“Hey, it says ‘Laurence.’”
“And it says ‘Rose’s Animal Hospital.’” Megan closed her eyes. “This is going to kill business.”
“No it won’t,” he said, but he didn’t sound sure.
“Why not? If people think their vet might like their pet enough to break into their house and steal it, why would they bring their animals to them in the first place?”
“People know I’ve retired,” he said. “Besides, this isn’t about you.”
“Yes it is, Dad,” she said, putting the paper down and giving him a hard look. “You may not be aware of it, and it’s been a surprise to me too, but people tend to paint children with the sins of their fathers.”
He scoffed. “You don’t put any stock in people like that, do you? Why would you want to be friends with someone who couldn’t tell the difference between a young woman and an old man? Hell, I didn’t even raise you. Your pious mother did all of that.”
“It’s not my friends I’m worried about, Dad. It’s my clients. And people I meet. People I run into. Just about everyone who finds out who I am has something to say about you.”