Page 8 of Take It Offline

Once the stubborn kitty is safely out of the way, we get to work freshening up the kennels. The small inner-city pet rescue only has space for six dogs and eight cats, but Reese and Mae work their asses off to find a loving home for every single animal that joins us.

Reese follows after me, replacing blankets and water as we go. “Let me get this straight. You’ll still be doing your old job, plus working on this new project, and they aren’t even giving you a raise?”

“Not a cent. They’re calling it a stretch project,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Free labor, basically.”

“I will never regret going to vet school. Screw corporate life. Even if you earn twice what I do, I’ll take four legs over two any day.” She wrangles her chaos of red curls into a bun.

I throw my arm around her shoulders. “That’s because you’re the smart one.”

Reese shakes her head, but it’s true. I made my bed when I took this job. Would I rather be doing something I enjoyed, instead of drowning in emails every day? Damn right I would. But the pay’s good and the money paved the way for my sister, so it’s really no choice at all.

This is all Reese and I dreamed of as kids.

Pets meant forever, or as close to forever as two misfits in the foster system could imagine. Before Reese, the closest thing I could get to unconditional love came from animals. As long as I looked after them and loved them back, they’d never leave. They’d never decide there was something better out there.

Never dump me on the doorstep of a stranger and walk away.

Reese is the only person I trusted to stay by my side.

All the years we struggled, crammed into tiny apartments with neighbors who were extremely vocal and usually fighting, were worth it for this.

She’s gotten her happy ending, and no one deserves it more.

It’s been a long time since I dared to dream of my own ride-off-together-into-the-sunset ending, but as long as Reese has it, that’s all I need.

She stills, hugging a blanket to her chest. “I feel responsible.”

“Don’t,” I say, my tone firm. We’ve had this conversation too many times since Reese needed help getting this place off the ground. If only one of us gets to do right by the world, I’m glad it’s her.

I can suck it up and take the hits. That’s just what I do.

Besides, the locals love Pet Pawsitive. It’s the best thing either of us has ever done, and I’m so fucking proud of her.

“Once I get this role, it’ll get easier,” I say.

She arches a brow. “That’s what you said before you became a senior.”

Don’t I know it. I’m a broken record at this point, but that’s why I’m going to make sure I make lead. “Yeah, well. They said it would take five years before I would get promoted again, but I’ve done it in three.”

Beside me, she shakes out the throw and lays it inside the cage, mouth pursed to the side. Classic thinking face. “And they really have you competing for it? Isn’t that a little cruel?”

My pulse jumps at the thought ofher, but I ignore it. “It’s only cruel if we play into their game.”

Her short laugh echoes off the cinderblock walls. “You’re the most competitive person I know. I’ve seen you make grown men cry.”

I smile at her.

Some of my proudest moments involve taking misogynistic dude bros to task. I may have broken a few knuckles, but it always felt like righting the wrongs of the universe, one left hook at a time.

These days I keep my fists holstered, but that doesn’t mean I won’t use everything else at my disposal to stand up for myself.

“Just be careful,” Reese adds. “This chick’s probably got it out for you, and for good reason, after what happened last year. I’m glad you apologized, at least.”

Emma definitely has it out for me, but at the moment, I have bigger issues.

Ops couldn’t care less that I’m being tasked with extra work. They hate that I was moved up to the twenty-fourth floor without their stamp of approval.

I don’t blame them. The work won’t stop just because I have ambitions. Throw in trying to outmaneuver Cruella, and it was already damn exhausting.

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