Page 33 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Pete nods. “Yeah. We’re talking full remediation. You’d need to shut the clinic down during the process.”
Her shoulders go rigid. “The clinic is already closed, but how long do you need?”
Mike pulls out his phone, scrolling through what I hope are real reference photos and not some horror show intended to scare us into more work. “Three, maybe four weeks minimum. Two months tops”
Olivia makes a sound. A strangled, frustrated,this is my nightmaresound.
But Pete adds more to completely ruin her day. “And that’s if the plumbing holds up, which I gotta be honest, isn’t looking great.” He gestures toward the exposed pipes under the sink.“You’ve got some corrosion happening here. Could be minor, or it could require a full re-piping situation.”
She exhales slowly like she’s counting to ten in her head. “Anything else?”
Mike flips through his notes. “Electrical could use some updates. Some of this wiring is ancient—I mean, did the old guy even have this place inspected before selling it?”
I glance at Olivia, and I swear I see her eye twitch.
Oh, yeah. She’s thrilled.
I clap my hands together. “Alright, so we’re looking at major mold remediation, along with plumbing and electrical updates.” I turn to Olivia. “Thoughts?”
She’s silent for a long moment.
“You can’t run a business like this, Doc.”
“I’ll do it,” she says. “But only because I legally cannot run a vet clinic in these conditions.”
I grin because this is a win. “Great. I’ll?—”
“But,” she cuts in, turning to me with narrowed eyes, “you just did me a favor, meaning you’re about to ask for something in return.”
Her voice is flat. Matter-of-fact.
Like she knows it’s coming.
Like she’s already bracing herself.
I lean against the counter, sipping my coffee, watching her as if she’s the most fascinating puzzle I’ve ever encountered. “And what, exactly, do you think I’m going to ask for, Doc?”
Her jaw tightens. “I don’t know. But people always want something.”
The words are clipped. Not sarcastic, not playful—just true.
She waits for the catch, bracing herself like this is a game she’s lost before, as though she already knows how it ends.
And that does something to me.
Because this isn’t just about me.
It’s about every other asshole who made her think that generosity always came with strings attached.
So instead of answering, I just smile.
Because whatever she thinks I’m about to ask for?
She’s wrong.
Yeah, maybe I’m doing this for selfish reasons—Sarah’s one of them. If there’s a good vet in town, I won’t have to drive to the city for her checkups. And, let’s be honest, my girl adores Olivia. If she has a reason to come here, that just means I have a reason to show up, too.
Not that I need an excuse.
