Page 10 of Fundamentals in Flirting

And that was entirely the problem.

“I guess. So what are you going to do with it?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve just taken a partner role in my dad’s architectural practice in town, so I might use it as my first big project to showcase my ideas.”

“You’re an architect?” I tried to hide how impressed I was, but his telling look convinced me he’d heard it.

“Yeah. See, I’m not just a pretty face,” he teased. And winked.

“Oh.” My mind had suddenly emptied.

Shit. Think of something else to say, Hannah. Stop him grinning at you in such a villainous way.

“What’s Henry up to these days?” I blurted out.

Teddy’s face fell.

“He’s some bigshot engineer with a PhD and his own biotech company,” he muttered darkly.

Wow, cool.

I was genuinely pleased for him, having always thought deep down that he would do well and fully deserved to.

“That’s great! It’d be lovely to see him. Where’s he living now?”

Teddy let out a long breath and glowered at me from under lowered brows.

“He’s living in Oxford with his impossibly beautiful and intelligent fiancée, and shaming us all in how he’s winning at life. He’s even got a fucking cat.”

We turned into Abbots Lane and Teddy huffed another exasperated breath. Clearly there were some issues between him and Henry, which was sad, but I’d barely brought the car to a stop when he jumped out and grabbed the pieces of his bike from the back seat.

“Thanks for the lift. Maybe see you around some time.”

And with that he slammed the door and stalked off through the rickety iron gates of The Old Rectory, quickly disappearing from sight amongst the overgrown foliage.

ChapterFive

The screaming that was coming from the surgery waiting room was chilling. Like something straight out of a horror film, the sort of noise that raised all the hairs on the back of your neck and sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. And it was loud. Really, really loud.

“Hello, Mrs Ryan. Bentley.” I crouched next to the ginger and white cavalier King Charles spaniel and the screaming stopped instantly, his expression turning ecstatic as he panted and wriggled his way onto my lap with delight. “Let’s get you seen to, shall we?”

I carried his obese little body along the corridor and into my consulting room, his decidedly prim owner following in our wake. I murmured soft words into his floppy ears, rubbing my fingers against the silky fur as he grunted in pleasure, his eyes partially closed.

“I don’t know why he makes such a fuss in the waiting room.” Bustling in and closing the door behind her, Mrs Ryan shifted her designer handbag onto her shoulder and unclipped the lead from Bentley’s collar as he settled onto the table. “He screams when anyone he doesn’t know tries to touch him or if we go anywhere new. It’s rather embarrassing, actually. Is there something physically wrong with him?”

Taking the stethoscope from around my neck, I raised my eyebrows as I looked at her, and was met with a stern and matronly expression, so I continued my examination in silence for a moment, avoiding her gaze while trying to keep my features impassive.

“No, I don’t think he’s got anything physically wrong with him. I think maybe he’s just anxious, Mrs Ryan. Does he have a favourite toy?”

“Yes. A rather tatty tennis ball, but I won’t take it out of the house. It’s disgusting.” She wrinkled her nose, creasing her immaculately made-up face and causing deep lines to form around her pouty pink mouth.

“I see. Why don’t you keep this ball with you, in your handbag, and offer it to him whenever he starts to get worked up.”

“I don’t see what good it will do.” Mrs Ryan eyed me sceptically, patting her obviously expensive handbag protectively, while I administered Bentley’s annual vaccination and gave his portly little frame a quick once-over.

“Anxiety in dogs often comes from the owner.” I couldn’t help but notice her horrified little gasp, but I ploughed on regardless, keen to get her out of the door as fast as possible now. “That’s his vaccination all done for another year, Mrs Ryan, but he is still horribly overweight so we do need to reassess what you’re feeding him.”

The grossly obese dog panted and grinned up at me from the examination table, pushing his head against my hand for more stroking, seemingly very relaxed in my presence.

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