by Fiona Grace
Oh, the tragedy. Meanwhile, it was Nessa’s accusations that had almost put Audrey in prison for life.
She looked at Mimi. “Mimi. Please look again. Because I know—”
“You’re insinuating I need to have my eyes checked? I looked. Twice!” She pulled a phone out of her bag and thrust the display under Audrey’s nose. It was a photograph of the storefront window for the clinic. A couple of the permits were visible, but sure enough, the others were partially obscured by the curtain she’d drawn before she left.
“Oh. Well, I see the problem now. They’re there. It’s just that the drapes are in the—”
“They must be visible. At. All. Times!” she barked, her face reddening. “I told you that. I’m sure I told you that.”
“You probably did,” Nessa said, butting her head in again. “She isn’t very good with the details. Just look at her house.”
Audrey frowned. What was wrong with her house? All right, she wasn’t a regular Chip and Joanna Gaines from Fixer Upper like Nessa, but she had some sense of style. She just hadn’t been able to flex those muscles much, with the clinic. “I’m sorry. I’ll go and fix it. Right away. Well—” She looked down at her fluffy robe. “Once I get read—”
“Right away. This is a huge violation. You could be fined if a code enforcement officer saw it.”
So the woman wanted Audrey to traipse downtown wearing her bathrobe and slippers to take care of this issue? Audrey could only stare at her. When Mimi matched that stare, clearly expecting her to get moving ASAP, Audrey threw up her hands. “I have to get changed. Fifteen minutes isn’t going to kill anyone,” she snapped, trying her best to keep the hard edge out of her voice.
When Mimi Catalano snorted and said, “We’ll see about that,” Audrey had just about reached her limit.
Nessa jogged off, laughing. Before she rounded the corner out of sight, she called, “I wouldn’t take her word for it! Shifty with a capital S!”
Audrey rolled her eyes. She gritted out, “I promise. I’ll take care of it right away. Anything else?”
Mimi started to lift her nose in the air and stomp away, when something behind Audrey, near her feet, caught her eye. Shock dawned.
“Madre di Dio! What is that?”
If Audrey didn’t know any better, she’d think Godzilla just appeared in her kitchen. It was that awful. Nessa had already rolled her eyes and remarked that the gingham curtains Audrey had chosen for the kitchen window were “so folksy and quaint, perfect for someone like you.” So now she was going to have to withstand more criticism of her decorating choices?
Steeling herself, she followed the councilwoman’s line of sight, to Nick.
Oh, right.
Of course she’d have something to say about that one.
“Uh, he’s a …” She couldn’t bring herself to say what he was. Likely, Mimi Catalano didn’t care about it anyway. “I do have a license for him.”
“You do? Who authorized that?”
She didn’t want to throw Falco under the bus, but right now, she didn’t see any choice. “Orlando Falco.”
Her mouth hung open for a few seconds before she spoke. “He authorized you to have a wild animal living in your house?”
Oh, no. This could be bad for Falco. Very bad. “Actually. Um, it’s not a wild animal.”
Mimi leaned it, inspecting it closely. “It looks like a—”
“Fox? I know, I know.” She tittered nervously. “People always say he looks like one. But Nick is a dog. A mutt. He’s um, part chihuahua, part Shiba Inu.”
Mimi’s mouth moved, going over the words Audrey had just said, but for once, no sound came out. It was like she was taking Nessa’s advice and trying to determine if this was just another “shifty” play Audrey was pulling on her. Finally, she said, “It’s not wearing its license.”
The truth was, Nick hated wearing that thing. He’d chewed on it the last time she’d slipped it around his neck. “Yes, but I do have one. It’s—”
“This isn’t America. We have rules here that we expect our residents to abide by. You seem intent on disobeying the rules of this town, and we can’t have foreigners coming in and doing as they please. If that creature—whatever it is—is found to be in violation again, I’ll see that it’s taken in by authorities and disposed of.”
Audrey’s jaw dropped. “Disposed of?”
“Yes. You heard me.”
“What authorities?” Audrey said, her voice cracking. The woman had to be bluffing. There were no authorities to deal with the stray problem, no animal control office, which was why it’d become such a big problem to begin with.
Mimi simply shrugged and turned away. “Fine, at the very least, I will have the license revoked for your inability to follow our laws. Dottore Smart, I’m just trying to ensure that the town’s rules are followed. I’m not the bad guy here.”
Audrey watched her walk away, her cheeks flushing and her hands shaking at her sides. That’s funny. Because you sure sound like it.
She closed the door and looked at Nick. Then she went to the kitchen drawer above the washing machine, her designated “junk drawer,” and pulled out the license that Orlando Falco had given her for the keeping of Nick. The little circular emblem on a nylon collar was supposed to put an end to this kind of problem.
Already knowing the outcome, she hesitated for a few moments. Then she crouched in front of Nick and tried to put it on. As expected, he shrunk away against the wall, then skirted to the side, dashing into the bathroom. When he got there, he glanced back at her, like, That again? I thought we had an agreement. You have destroyed my trust.
She sighed. This was nothing new. When she first got the license, she’d tried to place the collar over his neck for hours. But he’d constantly slipped away. At one point, she’d managed to get ahold of him and put it on, but he’d whined like a baby well into the night, until she’d been forced to remove it, and found it nearly chewed to pieces. At that point, she’d decided it wasn’t important.
He was hers. It was legal. That was all that mattered.
Now, it felt like a life or death thing.
“Come on, Nick,” she called, following him. “You need to wear this.”
She went into the bathroom, not wanting to corner him and make him suffer, but seeing no other choice. But the moment she stepped into the little room, she sighed. The room was empty, and the window over the toilet was open.
He was gone.
“Nick!” she called out, but of course, there was no answer. For a moment, she considered running after him, but work was calling, promising another busy day. And she had to make sure it was perfect.
CHAPTER TEN
Audrey rushed into work. The second she opened the door, even before she flipped the APERTO sign, Audrey took care of the permit problem. All it really took was a two-second job, moving the curtain to the side. Nothing worth getting steamed about.
There, she thought as she made the motion with a dramatic sweep of her hand. Hope it is up to your high standards, Catalano.
Then she went into the back and took care of all the strays. It was only her second day on the job, and she had eight of them, six dogs and two cats. She’d named them (yes, mostly after Italian food), given them check-ups and treatments and plenty of cuddles and exercise, filling her cup with the animal love that helped zap away all the negativity she was feeling for a certain councilwoman.
When she went to the door to officially open for business for the day, she peered up and down the street.
No Nick.
She twisted her hands. He’d be back. She was sure of it. He loved to run about all over town, but he always came back to sleep in her bed at night. And even without his license, he was smart and nimble enough to avoid the likes of Mimi Catalano and any “authorities” that might try to capture him.
At least, she hoped.
Thankfully, the day was much less hectic than the one before. Her first appointment was a simple check-up, and the second
appointment didn’t show, which gave her time to catch up on her billing and paperwork. While working the books, running the numbers, she decided that if she kept bringing in paying clients at a hefty pace, she should be able to swing boarding the strays and make a bit of a profit so that she could feed herself. If she worked overtime and weekends, she might even be able to hire a receptionist.
As for where she’d get the money to continue with her renovations, well… she’d just have to be really thrifty, creative, and do things slowly.
Very slowly.
As sat at the reception desk, checking her upcoming appointments and waiting for her ten-thirty appointment, the phone rang.
She picked it up. “Hello, Dr. Smart Veterinary, can I help you?”
“Dottore Smart?”
She knew that voice. “Yes… Mr. Falco?”
“That’s right.”
From his tone of voice, she could already tell it was bad news. “Is everything okay?”
“It is,” he said. “Well, to tell the truth, it could be better.”
Uh-oh, she thought. Here it comes. “What is it?”
“Are you busy tonight, after your shift at the clinic?”
She stiffened. Was he asking her out on a date? Wasn’t he married? And like, thirty years her senior? Even though he was handsome and distinguished, she hadn’t checked his ring finger, because, well, he was old. At least sixty. But maybe that was how these Sicilian guys rolled. “Well—”
“There’s a council meeting tonight at seven PM. At the municipal building. I think you should be there.”
“Oh.” She let out a giggle, relieved. But then the full weight of what he was saying crashed down on her. “Uh, why?”
“I just received the agenda. And it seems that Mimi Catalano is proposing a new tax that would be of interest to you. It’s a tax on anyone who takes in stray animals, and a pretty hefty one, at that.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” Audrey shouted into the phone.
“No. I’m sorry. She doesn’t take it lightly when her proposals are rejected, and when she finds something to target, she goes full-bore. Apparently, she’s targeting the clinic.”
No, she’s targeting me, specifically, Audrey thought, staring at the Excel budget spreadsheet she’d just compiled for the clinic. With a hefty tax for harboring strays, she might as well kiss the idea of a receptionist, or of eating anything other than beans and rice, goodbye. “That won’t pass, will it? You have friends on the board that voted in my favor before, right?”
“I don’t know. It’s ludicrous, of course, but Mimi has a lot of fans on her side. She’s been known for steamrolling opposition and getting these things done. I’ll be pushing back, of course, but it really would help to have you there, to put a face on how this will damage your business.”
Audrey gritted her teeth. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
She hung up the phone and her gut twisted. And I’ll tell Ms. Catalano exactly where she can shove her stray tax.
*
“And she actually showed up at my house at an ungodly hour of the morning!” Audrey babbled to Mason as they walked into the municipal building later that night. “Can you believe that?”
Mason shook his head in response, as he had been doing for the past ten minutes during the walk over, as she unloaded all the injustices Mimi Catalano had thrown at her. The more she spoke, the more riled up she got. No, she wasn’t really planning on telling Mimi where to shove her stray tax… at least, before. Now she was so fired up, she wasn’t sure she could trust herself to behave in a ladylike manner.
“It just… ugh!” She shook her fists. “The nerve. Am I right?”
“Yeah.”
Audrey looked at him. He was remarkably calm for someone who’d been a Mimi Catalano victim. She could feel her heart rate skyrocketing off the charts. “Yeah? That’s it? Don’t you have anything else to say?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you going to let me say it?”
True, she had been kind of talking over him the whole way over. But she’d been stewing all day, and now she finally had a sounding board. And every time she thought she was done, she remembered another mean thing the woman had done. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
“Like I said. She’s a—”
“A total witch, right?”
Mason nodded and gave her a warning look.
“I’m sorry. Continue.”
He shrugged. “And, well, yeah. She’s—”
“Got a lot of nerve, right?”
He pressed his lips together. “A lot of nerve.”
“I know, right?” she blurted. “Totally.”
She looked at him, waiting for more. The man was one of few words.
“A total witch,” she filled in, as he grabbed her arm and led her down the hall, their words echoing through the open, marble corridor.
They were at the doors to the conference room, and Mimi Catalano was there, sitting on her throne up high, on a dais in front of rows of chairs, along with the other council members.
“Remember,” he whispered to her. “Calm. If you’re going to address them, don’t let your emotions take over. Be civil. Don’t attack her.”
Audrey nodded as she scanned the room. Other than Orlando Falco, who waved at her, it was mostly strangers. But the room was nearly packed. “I know. I won’t.”
They each grabbed a copy of the agenda and found two seats together in the back of the room, and sat down to wait for the meeting to start. Audrey tapped her foot nervously until Mason clamped a hand down over her knee.
“Relax.”
“How can I relax?” she said, pointing to the paper. She couldn’t read much of it, but one thing stuck out to her. She read it over and over again. “I think this says fifteen percent. That’s how much she wants to charge me! If I get hit with this tax, I’m going to be sunk!”
“You’d better cool it, girl, otherwise you’re going to have something a lot more serious than that tax to worry about. That vein on the side of your head is about to explode.”
She reached up and felt it. It was just a little bump at her temple, but Mason was right. If she didn’t calm herself, she was likely to blow a gasket. She needed to settle down. She took a deep breath and scanned the faces of the people seated around the room. “Who are all these people? You think they’re all pet-haters like the witch?”
He gave her a disapproving look. “Boston. Cool your jets.”
“All right, all right.”
He clamped his hand down on her knee and she realized she was bouncing it again. This time, he didn’t let go. Ordinarily, she would’ve been excited by the touch, but it wasn’t a nice, sweet gesture. It was a Get yourself together before I smack you kind of thing.
Finally, the meeting began. Most of it was in Italian, so Audrey didn’t know what was going on. But she couldn’t help zeroing in on Mimi Catalano. Though she couldn’t understand her words, it was easy to read between the lines with her body language. The woman was loud, interrupting people. She had something to say about every subject, dominating the discussion. She rolled her eyes and gave people accusing stares, like they were lesser beings.
The woman was worse than a witch. She was an evil-spirited bully who fought anyone who didn’t go along with her ridiculous demands.
By the time Orlando Falco looked at Audrey, her skin was crawling, and she had so much pent-up indignation that she very well could have gone up to the mic and unleashed a torrent of curses at her opponent.
He said something in Italian, and then added, “Dr. Smart, a recent transplant from America, recently opened Mussomeli’s only veterinary clinic. She is here to give a statement regarding Councilwoman Catalano’s proposed tax increase. Dr. Smart?”
All eyes turned to Audrey as she stood and made her way toward the microphone in the center aisle. She could feel Mimi Catalano’s disdain on her, but she avoided eye contact. When she reached the podium, she pulled out a slip of paper she’d written her tho
ughts on and unfolded it. Then she said, “Thank you, Mr. Falco. I’ve devoted my life to the care of animals, and when I moved to this beautiful town, I was excited to be tasked with the responsibility of caring for its growing stray population.”
Pausing briefly between sentences to allow Falco to translate, she glanced over at Mason, who seemed to be relaxing now, satisfied that she wasn’t going to fly off the handle.
“There is a growing stray problem in Mussomeli. Many of the animals have disease and are severely malnourished, scavenging where they can for scraps of food. But it doesn’t have to be that way. My clinic caters to the strays. It’s a no-kill shelter, which means we keep the animals there, give them food and medication, and hold them until they’re adopted into a loving home. But as you can imagine, despite scrimping and saving to ensure our dollars are spent wisely, our budget is very tight.”
At this, she ventured a glance at Mimi, who was staring at her over the rims of her reading glasses, the top of one red-painted lip raised higher than the other, in a pronounced snarl. Just as expected.
“This tax would not only devastate my business, it would impede my ability to care for these animals properly. And these animals deserve compassion, not extermination. I believe I can turn this stray problem around with the resources I’ve been allowed, if given the time and support, but this tax would make my efforts all but impossible. I understand that Ms. Catalano thinks strays should simply be done away with, euthanized, but I think that is inhumane and unnecessary. I received my license to operate in Sicily a little over three weeks ago, and only just started to work on the stray population. I ask, actually, I beg the council to reconsider supporting this measure until the full results of my efforts can be realized. And—”
“Grazie, Dottore Smart,” Catalano snapped.
“But I’m not finished,” she said, holding up her paper. “I still have—”
“Yes, Dottore, your concerns are duly noted,” the councilwoman muttered, flipping through the papers in front of her. “But we have a very busy agenda and have to keep things moving along.”