by Jody Holford
Stella leaned against the door jamb so she didn’t sway. Was she that easy to see through? That transparent? This is business, not personal.
“Sometimes, you jump in without a safety net, Doc.”
“I’m in charge,” she said, needing him to at least acknowledge that.
“It’s your show.”
She glared at him. “Until you get your cut.”
Zach’s grin made her stomach dance. “If we get there, through the trial, and things are moving in a way that I can take a cut, I’d say we’ll both be doing pretty well. At this point, do you have any other options?”
She hated that he was right. More, just the thought of bringing him on—which panicked her less than it had a week ago—now seemed soothing. A way out. A light in a constant shroud of darkness. Maybe because all her other options had been taken away.
Stella held out her hand, done with indecision and questioning. She was tired of living in the dark. “I guess this makes us part—co-workers.”
Zach grinned. “You won’t be sorry.”
But as he shook her hand and sparks fired over her skin making her feel alive, she wasn’t so sure.
Chapter Ten
Zach was no stranger to hard work and long hours, but he was exhausted and his day was far from over. He took the exit off the freeway that brought him into Portland, with what felt like nerves swirling in his gut. He’d told Stella he’d have the money for her within two weeks, thinking it wouldn’t be that hard to take a loan against his property. His investments were tied up and he couldn’t access them without a huge penalty. Which he wasn’t concerned about because he thought borrowing on one of the two places he owned would be an easy fix.
The manager of the Brockton Point bank, Lydia-something-or-other, had snootily explained to him that he didn’t qualify. He’d had a flashback to high school, the way she’d looked down her nose at him. She’d even tsked, as if she was sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Oh, she’d given some reasons, but he’d stopped listening after she said no because his priority was getting the money so Stella wouldn’t shut him out.
Whether she was willing to admit it or not, they were a damn good team. Zach didn’t want to give her any reason to change her mind. After one week in the clinic, and her house, he had a good handle on how things operated. And how much needed to change so they could see a profit. Zach followed the directions his phone gave him through the blue tooth and stopped at a traffic light. It had been a while since he’d been in a town with an actual strip mall of box stores. He should text Stella and see if she needed him to pick up anything.
Like you’re a couple? He laughed out loud, shook his head at the thought, and pressed the gas when the light changed. If she was reluctant to be partners in the clinic, she was hell-bent on them ignoring the attraction that simmered just below the surface any time they were within five feet of each other. Best to ignore it. She has the right idea there. Why make things complicated? He didn’t want or plan to, especially when her walls were up. But then she’d join him on a consult or he’d see her with the animals or Dexter or Jaz and her softness undid him. It was in those moments he was sure he saw the real her—the one who was unafraid to be open.
Stop worrying about getting her to open up and think about the list of ideas you want to run past her. There were a surprising number of opportunities without a lot of effort on their part, but he could totally see how she’d overlooked them. Stella Lane was a machine. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed so much on her own without crashing. Her work ethic and attitude were just two of the things he admired about her, and she didn’t stop once the clock did. She had several drop-in patients a day, phone consultations, and home visits. There could be another intern, another vet, and a full-time assistant and still be enough work to keep everyone busy.
Pulling up to Pet Central, he hoped his friend and mentor, Doctor Andrew Clark, hadn’t forgotten he was coming today. As one of the original investors and owners of the large chain store, his friend’s schedule only got crazier as he tried to fit it all in. He recruited vets for his business, gave talks and lectures at universities, contributed to programs overseas—which was where Zach had met him—and still saw a regular rotation of patients at his Portland location. Zach didn’t miss working here. It had a completely different vibe—certainly less personal than what Stella’s clinic offered.
Grabbing his wallet and cell phone from the seat next to him, he got out of the truck and headed for the automatic doors of the megastore Andrew had tried to convince him to join more than once.
Pet Central was a colossal building with high ceilings, tall windows, friendly staff, and just about every pet accessory, food, and gadget possible. Including top of the line veterinarians. Zach had learned a lot from Andrew when he’d come to work with his unit in Peru. When he’d graduated, Zach had carefully considered the offer his mentor had made—his own location overseas—but decided all he really wanted was to go home. To start his life there. Of course, the money he’d made taking a stateside position for a couple of years before heading back to Brockton was what had given him the money he’d wanted—needed—to accrue. Not that it did him a damn bit of good right now. Being so close to having what he wanted meant he had to swallow his pride and secure financing to help Stella.
He approached the reception counter and smiled at the woman whose nameplate read Celeste.
“Hi there,” she greeted, putting her clipboard down on the high counter to give Zach her full attention.
“Hi. I have an appointment with Andrew. Is he around?”
A woman with hair so high Zach wondered how she held it up approached the counter with a basket full of cat toys and treats. In an instant, another Pet Central employee was at the counter.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” she asked the woman.
“I’ll see if Mr. Clark is available,” Celeste said, pulling Zach’s attention back before she disappeared through a swinging door. The white walls with the bright yellow letters shouting PET CENTRAL were almost blinding. Zach thought of the quiet, calm interior of Stella’s clinic. It could use a fresh coat of paint, but basically, it was like walking into a cozy home. It made people feel comfortable. Big chain stores like this one were more about looks than individual patient quality. The doctors were top of the line, but appointments were booked in small blocks of time and, like a high-end restaurant, turnover was expedient. There wasn’t time for chatting about how someone’s granddaughter was feeling after a bout of the flu and there definitely wasn’t time to throw in a nail trim just because it was hard for the owner to do.
The woman beside him dug through the basket. “Do you think I need anything else for a kitten?”
Zach’s brows rose. Christ. She had enough for ten kittens. He looked at the items she loaded onto the counter.
“I think you’re set,” the employee, whose name Zach couldn’t see because of her long hair covering it, said.
“You already have kitty litter and a box?” Zach asked.
The women looked his way. The customer widened her eyes, giving him a sultry smile.
“Would you believe I did not grab those things?” Her voice lowered as she looked him over. She stepped closer, making it hard not to inhale the heavy scent of her perfume. Without meaning to, he mentally compared it to the berry scent of Stella’s shampoo. Since he’d started at the clinic with her, he’d craved berries more than he ever had in his life.
The woman was still eyeing him up in a blatant way. It took Zach a second to realize that the sultry look and smoky voice did not do one thing for him. Sure, she was attractive, but there was no spark in his blood, no zap of electricity that usually came with a good-looking woman expressing interest—even just visually.
“Can’t stay out of it even if it’s not your place, can you?” Andrew’s booming voice asked as he came through a door to Zach’s left, behind the counter.
Zach turned away from the woman and greeted his friend and fo
rmer mentor. Andrew came around the counter and Zach met him halfway before the two exchanged a handshake and a slap-on-the-back hug.
“How are you?” Andrew asked. His wavy hair was liberally streaked with white strands and a few more lines had settled around his eyes.
“I’m good, thanks.” It was true. Not everything was settled, but he was really good. Stella was a huge part of that.
“I’m glad you reached out. I have an envelope for you, right here.” He patted the pocket of his white coat, but didn’t slip his hand in. His eyes twinkled, reminding Zach of the first time he’d met him. Not that he’d typically notice a twinkle in any guy’s eyes, but they’d been dead tired and feeling low when Andrew visited their unit. The upbeat attitude had revived them. Excited them.
“You sure this is what you want? Still time to say yes and come back. I’ll give you a spot at this clinic so you’re close to your beloved hometown.”
They moved away from the counter and Zach headed in the direction of the large, circular waiting room. Opaque squares of glass made the rounded wall seem huge. Wooden benches attached to the wall went all the way around, offering plenty of seating. Nothing but the best. And the most. The biggest and the best were two of Andrew’s favorite words.
“I’m happy where I am.”
“So, you got in. Interesting,” Andrew said.
Zach didn’t know what was so interesting about that. He’d told Andrew his plan when they’d spoken a few months back, even mentioning his hometown by name.
“I did. She’s not ready to call me partner or anything yet, but I’m getting there, and it’s where I want to be.”
Andrew nodded, still staring at Zach, as if he was assessing the truth of his words. Pulling an envelope out of his pocket, his mentor passed it over. Zach took it and looked down at it. His name was on the front.
Zach gave an embarrassed laugh, stopping short of shuffling his feet. Fuck. This felt awkward. “I figured there’d be paperwork to sign. You said you’d talk to your lawyers about drawing something up.”
Before replying, Andrew looked around, probably making sure he wasn’t talking business in front of customers. Zach had assumed they’d at least head back to his office.
“Saw something in you the first time we met, Zach. I told you that then and I’m telling you now. This is a personal loan.”
Zach’s jaw dropped. Accepting a business loan was one thing, but he didn’t expect Andrew to dip into his personal accounts to bail him out.
“Andrew, I appreciate it, man. So much. More than I can tell you. But—”
His friend held up his hand. “I know what I’m doing, son. Not my first time. You need an investor, I’m happy to invest. I do it through the company, you’ll need four other people to sign off on it. Take the money, Zach. I know you’re good for it. We’ll talk repayment when you’re ready.”
It was too much. Too good. And just like Andrew Clark to go over and above.
Andrew clapped him on the shoulder, squeezed his arm, and Zach’s throat tightened. He firmed his lips and nodded briskly. “You won’t regret this. I’m going to help her turn her clinic around and I’ll have this back to you, with interest, before you know it.”
“I trust you. Wish like hell you worked here with us. That place—that woman—must be something special.”
There was no missing the curiosity in Andrew’s voice or gaze. Zach wasn’t up to giving away details because truthfully, Stella was this hard-to-describe enigma who worked her way under his skin in less time than he’d known was possible. The kicker was, she had no idea, and if she did, she wouldn’t want to be there. He didn’t want her to be.
“You have no idea,” Zach said.
“I’ll come out and check for myself one day soon.”
“Mr. Clark? Phone call for you,” Celeste said quietly from beside them. Both men turned to look at her, and Andrew gave her a wide smile, then looked back at Zach.
“We’ll be in touch.”
He watched his friend walk away, barely registering the fact that Celeste was still looking at him, a tentative smile on her face. Zach waved and left the building, getting back in the truck, feeling like he was in a daze. Just like that, he’d secured his piece of the pie. Smiling as he backed up out of the lot, Zach imagined telling Stella tonight; about handing her the money. She’d accept it a little warily because she knew this money brought them one step closer to her least favorite word: partners.
Pulling his truck into a spot behind On Dec, a small bar he hoped had good beer on tap, he realized he was starving. His mouth watered at the thought of pub-style wings. He wondered if he should text Stella and ask her to meet him. She still hadn’t responded to his earlier text asking if she needed anything. Maybe you should make some actual buddies, so you think about something other than her.
Pulling open the door, Zach was greeted with what he figured was the Friday after work crowd of Brockton Point. The place was more like a neighborhood pub than a bar, though maybe things kicked up a few notches at night. Brockton had never really been a party town—or if it was, he’d never been in that circle. Now that he could be in any circle he wanted, he just didn’t care anymore. Weird how life worked.
“Hey there, handsome. You can sit anywhere, and I’ll be right with you,” a waitress with very thick bangs said.
“Thanks.”
She probably meant at the tables, but Zach headed for a stool at the bar. The lighting was dim, but brighter than he’d expected. Music pumped in the background—classic rock, thank God. He’d learned to enjoy the simple things in life and there wasn’t much a good beer and equally good music couldn’t cure.
The bartender was a tattooed giant with a wide grin. It was second nature for Zach to check out the surrounding areas, assess the people in his field of vision, and places where people could hide out of his line of sight. He’d gone into the army with that particular skill, but it had been honed to a…well, a lethal degree. It was as automatic as breathing for Zach to assess a person’s physical strengths and scan for weakness in case he needed to use that to his advantage.
“How’s it going? You new around here?”
Now that he was closer, Zach vaguely recognized the guy. Likely, they’d gone to high school together, but since he spent a good portion of his time keeping his head down, Zach couldn’t be sure. He’d had other things to worry about besides making friends.
The guy put a small, square napkin in front of him as Zach answered. “Technically, I’m from here, but I’ve been gone a long time.”
“Welcome back then. Declan James. I own the place,” he said, putting out a hand.
Zach shook it, more certain now that they’d gone to school together. Like every other kid, he knew which kids were popular, which were stoners, which ones to steer clear of. If memory served him correctly, Declan was a quarterback and ladies’ man.
“Zach Mason.”
The guy’s brows drew together. “Mason. And you’re from here? Is Sheila your mom?”
“Uh, yeah.” Zach wasn’t sure he wanted to know why the bartender knew his mother.
Declan laughed. “She’s a hoot on karaoke night.”
Groaning out loud, Zach shook his head but shared in the laughter. “I bet. What night is that? I want to make sure I stay away.”
“Every Tuesday. Come on. You could do a mother-son duet,” he said, still chuckling.
Not in this lifetime or any other. “Not even for large sums of money would I consider that.” It was weird to think of his mother having a social life. Having a boyfriend. Maybe she came here with him.
“I hear you. Can I get you a beer?”
Zach nodded, pleased to see his favorite craft beer on tap. “Absolutely.”
Declan grabbed a pint glass from below the counter. As he poured, he glanced back at Zach. “We must have gone to school together. Something about you seems familiar.”
Zach crossed his arms on the bar, feeling looser and more relaxed than he had in a r
eally long time. “I was just thinking the same thing. Brockton High class of…?”
“2004,” Declan answered.
“Long time ago now,” Zach said. In some ways, not long enough. In others, it was like only seconds had passed.
Sliding another napkin under the glass, Declan nodded, but then his eyes widened slightly, like he’d just remembered something. “You were friends with Travis. The kid who died senior year.”
Zach’s stomach spasmed hard. Fuck. Why did it still hurt all these years later? He pressed his hands flat on the bar. “Yeah. We were best friends.”
Declan stepped closer. “I’m sorry, man. You left town shortly after, right?”
Zach’s throat went dry. He’d grieved. He’d dealt with this. As part of his return from combat, he’d had mandatory counseling. Yet it still hurt to push the word from his lips, “Yes.”
“That was sad. Really fucking sad, man. It was the first time I realized that we weren’t invincible, you know? When you’re in high school, you think you’ll live forever and it’s only going to get better. It was a hell of a way to realize life doesn’t last forever. I’m really sorry for your loss.”
Zach could only nod as he blew out a breath. Declan tapped the top of the bar, his lips in a tight line before he wandered off to fill a couple of orders. Zach turned on his stool, breathing through his nose like the shrink had taught him. The conversation was a reminder that he needed to go visit Trav’s family. Particularly his mother. It had always been part of the plan, but the piece he kept pushing to the bottom of his list. Because as hard as it had been to talk about Travis just now, seeing his mother, or any of his family, was going to be worse.
Not today. Zach rolled his shoulders trying to release the tension. It had been a good day. He’d hang on to that for now. Have a beer, go home, see Stella, and give her the money. A good day.
The smack of billiard balls caught his attention. There were pool tables around a wall that didn’t completely close off the room he was in from the other. It was an interesting focal point—a divider of sorts, and the rusty-red brick added warmth to the large space. An empty stage lined the far wall with a small dance space right in front. It wasn’t fancy, but it was homey. Inviting. He’d definitely stop in again. Sipping his beer, he watched what he could see of the pool game. The end of the table came just past the faux brick wall, so he only saw someone when they walked to that end to take a shot.