Satisfaction Guaranteed(47)

Sloane smiles. “It’s worth a ten-mile walk if I have to.”

Herb’s eyes widen, and he high-fives me. “That’s downright impressive.”

I preen, damn glad we made a pit stop here.

Sloane slides right into the chitchat with my friends.

This is how it could be.

This is what I could have.

This is what I want.

I try to shake away those notions when we leave, but they linger, chasing me as I put her in a cab and tell her I’ll see her at the office later.

They follow me as I head into work, saying hi to Jonathan and Sam, who are deep in conversation.

“And listen, if your mom gives you a hard time, just tell her you damn well know how to decorate your own apartment,” he says to her.

“You’re right. That’s what I’m going to say.”

I smile inside at how easy they make it seem. They’ve slipped so seamlessly into being together, they make it look like walking on air.

Inside my office, I pick up the photo of my dad. “What would you do?”

The thing is, I think I know. I just wish I had another opinion.

But I put the question aside as I get to work on the day’s spays and neuters. I can’t have anything on my mind but snipping and clipping.

When I’m done, I blot my forehead with my sleeve, wash my hands, and take a deep breath.

I should call Truly. See her tonight. Ask for advice.

I’ve turned toward my office to make a call, when Doug strides out of an exam room, saying goodbye to the last patient of the day.

He tips his chin in my direction. “Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

My heart drops, and guilt washes over me in a hot wave.

He knows.

He’s found out.

And I’m about to be fucked.





38





Sloane Elizabeth’s Notes to Self on ALL THE THINGS



Let’s review the facts as we know them.

Your father wants to talk.

Your father specifically said he has something he wants to discuss with you and Malone.

You’re sleeping with Malone.

Don’t even try to deny it on a technicality. You slept with him, and you intend to sleep with him again, and you’d like to sleep with him every single night from now until eternity because you’re wild about him.

But there’s that little matter of working in close quarters with him.

And then there’s the bigger matter of banging your dad’s business partner.

Your dad is either going to kick your rescue out of his office space and tell you you’re a trollop, or he’ll say he isn’t mad, just disappointed.

All of which suck.

Chin up, girl. Put on your best socks.





39





Doug is imperious, perched in his chair, positioned behind his desk, his face impassive.

My stomach plummets all the way to my feet, which have turned cold and heavy like concrete.

There are no two ways to spin this. He’s my business partner, and I’ve been screwing his daughter.

He could yank the rug out from under me, toss me to the street, and slam the door closed.

I love this clinic. I love the clients and the patients and the employees, and yet I’ve been thinking with my little head.

I drag my concrete feet to the chair in front of his desk and sit. A second later, Sloane walks in. “Hi, Dad.”

She sounds as if she’s doing her damnedest to stay strong, not to let on that she did the walk of shame earlier today.

But he has to know, or why call us in here?

“Shut the door, please,” he says coolly.

She shuts it with a dull thud before taking the chair next to mine.

Doug folds his hands. “I should have arranged a dinner or done this outside of work, but it’s about Helena.”

I blink. That’s not what I expected. I sit up straighter.

Sloane leans forward. “Is she okay, Daddy?” Worry threads through her tone, and in this instant, I see her fully as his daughter. She’s his anxious child, concerned about his wife, calling him “Daddy.”

Doug clasps his hand to his chest. “She’s great. Didn’t mean to scare you. She’s the picture of health.”

Slumping back in the chair, Sloane lets out a deep sigh. “Don’t talk like that, then. You had me terrified she was sick.”

Doug’s face turns ashen. “No, God no. She’s great. Thank the Lord.” He pauses. “But she is worried sick about me.”

“Why?” I ask. “Are you okay?”

He thumps his fist on his sternum. “Fit as a fiddle.”

“That sounds like a good thing, Doug.” I keep my voice steady because now I have no clue what’s going on. “Why is she worried?”

“Here’s the deal. Remember when I asked you where you thought I should take Helena on vacation?” he says to Sloane.

“Yes, and I suggested you ask her what her dream vacation was,” Sloane supplies.

“And I did just that. I asked her. Want to know what she said?”

I’m dying to. I’m still in the goddamn dark.

Doug holds his hands out wide, then a smile spreads slowly across his face. “She wants to go to Europe. For three months. Maybe more. She wants us—her and me—to go. Because she’s worried I work too much. And you know what I said?”