Chapter Nine EIGHTEEN MONTHS AGO

You are my answered wish.

A. Rose

‡

RHETT

A cat ownerwho insists his feline is anorexic started my morning, and it's been non-stop since. People love their pets. Their pets are like their children. I get it. I love Sadie, so I try to keep that in mind with all my patients. But just like you have crazy, over the top parents, you have crazy, over the top pet owners. Those that dress up their animals for the holidays, take them to visit Santa, and love to show you the pictures. Still, I'd much rather that than the alternative. My patients are all loved by their owners. That's the perk of owning your own clinic. You only deal with people who love their animals; otherwise, they wouldn't be paying the crazy fees to keep them taken care of. Pet insurance, now that's a racket I should've gotten into.

In vet school, we did a lot of volunteer hours, so I saw the other side—the neglected, the abused. I don't know how social workers do it. Seeing a dog beaten is bad enough; I can't imagine seeing a child that way.

Exiting exam room one, I pull out my phone, pulling up Ainsley's text—a picture of her blowing a kiss. The day seems a lot longer when you've got a woman and the promise of sex waiting for you at home.

"Are we working or sexting?" Brody asks, attempting to swipe my phone.

I pull it back just in time. "I can multi-task."

"Well, multi-task your ass into exam room two," he says. "Hey, how was Ainsley when you drove her home? Did you see her yesterday at all?"

"Didn't see her yesterday," I lie. "She seemed fine to me."

Good," he says. "I asked her to meet me for lunch today. You in?"

"I'll let you know," I say.

He walks off, and I pull up Ainsley's number, texting her the story I just told Brody. Lies only work if everyone tells the same ones.

Then it's back to work. An angry turtle who refuses to come out of his shell, and a lazy spaniel who hikes his leg off the side of the sofa to pee on the floor instead of going outside—that's what rounds out my morning. Sometimes this job feels more like therapy than medicine.

Passing by reception, I hear my name. Brenda has worked for me and Brody since we opened the clinic. She's old enough to be our mother. She's the lifeblood of the office. Nothing here happens without Brenda. "Ainsley's outside," she says. "I'm assuming she's waiting on her brother."

I look though the picture window, seeing Ainsley pacing back and forth. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled up in a ponytail, and she's dressed in shorts and t-shirt. God, she's beautiful. I wonder how long she's been out there.

"He's finishing up with a patient. I'll tell her to come wait inside," I say to Brenda.

Walking through reception, I open the door. Ainsley's eyes dart to me. She looks like she's about to vomit all over the sidewalk. I know she's worried about Brody finding out, probably thinking he'll kill me.

"This is by far the most selfish thing I've ever done," she whispers. "I've been so hellbent and determined not to let Brody run my life, I've forgotten I could be destroying his relationship with the most important person in his life besides me and Skye."

"Come inside," I say, wanting to take her hand.

"I'm not sure I can act like I haven't screwed you seven ways to Sunday."

I can't help but laugh. I really wish I could read her mind. The things she comes up with.