Satisfaction Guaranteed(48)

I narrow my brow. “No?”

He laughs, shaking his head and reaching into his desk drawer. He grabs a red beret, positions it jauntily on his head, and says, “Mais oui,” in his best French accent.

“You’re leaving?” I ask, incredulous. Is he for real?

“Yes. Well, I hope you don’t mind. But I need to do this. What the woman wants, the woman gets. And she wants me in Europe, and she has to be the priority.” He gestures to me, earnest and open. “Honestly, you do most of the work here anyway. So I thought I’d just take some time off and let you two run it.”

I freeze.

Run it?

He wants the two of us to manage the clinic?

“Excuse me?” Sloane asks, shock coloring her tone.

He looks at his daughter. “I thought you two could keep the ship running while I go. You’ve been operating the rescue out of here, and it’s going great. The practice is running smoothly, thanks to Malone. If you can pick up a little of the slack on the business side for me, that would be great. Any business decisions I would’ve had a hand in if I were here, I know you can handle.” He looks to both of us now. “And all you have to do is keep working together like the pros that you are, and it’ll be fine, right? Surely no one will miss me that much. I’ve been cutting back anyway.”

“But you’re still the partner?” I ask carefully, since I got ahead of myself last time, hoping he was about to hand me the keys.

“Of course. I’m not ready to sell it. But you’ll collect the profits since you’ll be doing the veterinary work. The practice is yours to run.” He turns to Sloane. “And you can keep running the rescue out of the clinic too, and the pair of you can make the bulk of the decisions. It’s gone well with you working in tandem so far.” He beams. “This will work out perfectly.”

I’m not so sure about that.





*



After Doug leaves, I head to my office, trying to process what just happened. The clinic is closed for the night, and Jonathan and Sam are gone, probably partaking of pizza and a movie.

Enjoying their easy, breezy romance.

Meanwhile, I don’t know what the hell to make of Doug’s capriciousness.

He changes his mind on a dime.

Here’s the practice. Wait, it’s mine. Wait, my daughter is running it. Wait, wait, wait.

Knuckles rap softly on my door. “Hey.”

I look up to see Sloane.

“That was quite a surprise,” she says as she steps in tentatively then leans against the doorframe.

I heave a sigh. “He seems to love surprising me. First, I think he’s going to retire and let me buy him out. But nope, he’s bringing you in. Then, I think he’s found out about us. But nope, he’s jetting off to Europe. And nope, I can’t buy the practice, because we’re running it together. Because he declared it so,” I say, more vitriol in my tone than I intended.

More bitterness than I want her to hear.

Sloane tenses but nods, taking it on the chin. “It’s frustrating. I understand.”

“I thought things were going to be one way, and now it’s another, and he does whatever he wants,” I blurt. “I don’t know what he expects from me sometimes. The man is always moving goalposts, ever since he started talking retirement. He’s a great vet, and he was a great mentor when I needed one, but lately, he’s been making me jump through hoops with no warning they’re coming my way.”

“Would it help if I worked elsewhere? Do you want me to operate Best Friends out of a different space?”

I meet her gaze, give her a you can’t be serious look. “No. I don’t want that.”

But as soon as the words come out, I do want that. Because I don’t know how the hell to make this work. To balance running the practice, and running it with her, and not falling further and further in love with her every single day.

I glance at the photo of my dad. What would he do?

He’d keep his act together.

I have a clinic to run. Patients to tend to. Clients who need me to be at the top of my game. I can’t take care of their four-legged family members if I keep thinking with my dick.

And that’s what I’ve been doing.

I’ve been playing a no-strings-attached game when I have a real business to manage, one with all sorts of strings, which are wildly entangled.

I drag a hand through my hair. “I don’t know how to keep working in the same space with you and not want to bring you into my office every second and kiss the breath out of you,” I say, even though that barely covers the truth of my feelings.

The reality is I don’t know how to work with her and not tell her that I’ve fallen so hard and gotten in so deep that I can’t tell up from down anymore.

“Do you want to cool things off? That was always the plan,” she offers, her tone carefully even, as if she’s modulating it.

Do I want to? No fucking way. Do I have to, so I don’t crack open my heart every time I see her?

So I can run this business like an adult?

So I can make responsible choices?

I glance at the wall, at the floor, at the door. I dig deep, wishing there were a magic token or key. “I want to do what’s right for this clinic. I want to run it like a professional. I can’t think straight when my head is full of wanting you, of constantly wanting to get my hands on you. And now he wants us to run it together, so we’re going to be working even more closely.”