Page 20 of Second to None
As soon as the door closed behind them, Tiana stopped and turned to Diego. “I’m going to be honest with you, because you deserve the truth. Your little dog is fighting for his life right now. He may not even open his eyes.”
Diego swallowed and nodded. Emily gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, and they started down the clinic’s hallway.
“He’s in Doc’s office. We wanted him to have a quiet place where he could rest without being disturbed too often.”
Tiana led them to the tiny room into which Dr. Quillen had shoved a cheap wooden desk, rolling ergonomic chair, and oak filing cabinet. Framed photos of patients, inscribed by their grateful owners, hung on the walls. In the far corner behind the desk sat a soft, high-sided dog bed with Mario lying on his side in the middle of it. His front leg had an IV running into it while his back leg was in a cast wrapped in bright green tape. His eyes were closed, and his ribs rose and fell with each shallow, rapid breath.
Diego dropped to his knees beside the bed. For a long moment he just looked at the dog. Then he said in a low, soothing voice. “Hey, Mario, came to see you, boy. Glad you’re resting up. Gotta get that bone mended.”
The dog’s eyelid fluttered open.
“Yeah, it’s me, your buddy Diego.” The boy looked up at Tiana. “Is it okay if I touch him? I’ll be real careful.”
Emily could see the vet tech scanning Diego’s height and breadth and debating. But Emily had seen how tenderly Diego had cradled the dog when they brought him in. She locked gazes with Tiana. “Diego knows how to be gentle, I promise you.”
The tech nodded. “You can touch his head and his back. Just stay away from his ribs and his broken leg.”
“Thanks, ma’am.” Diego reached out with only his index finger and traced the curve of the little dog’s head. He gave the tiniest scratch just behind Mario’s ear. Then he did it again.
Emily heard a soft thump and caught her breath in concern. Then she saw the dog’s tail move, a little wag of appreciation, and realized that’s what had made the sound.
Tiana’s worried expression relaxed into a smile. “That’s the most response anyone has gotten from him today.” She leaned down to Diego. “I’m going to get a bowl of broth. Maybe you can get some food into him.”
Emily rolled the chair away from the dog bed and sat down while Diego continued to murmur and pet the dog with featherlight strokes. Mario closed his eye again, but Emily could swear that his breathing was deeper and more even.
Tiana padded in on her rubber soles and handed Diego a bowl of brown liquid with small flecks of dog food in it and a medicine dropper, explaining how to tempt the dog to swallow some nourishment. Diego nodded and waited for the vet tech to depart before he dipped his finger in the broth and touched Mario’s nose with it. Emily held her breath until the dog’s pink tongue flicked out to lick his nose. Diego wetted his finger again and held it to the dog’s mouth. Again the pink tongue came out to lap at the broth.
Emily let out a sigh of amazement and gratitude as a tiny smile curled the corner of Diego’s lips. “He’s gonna pull through, Ms. Emily,” the boy said with a quick glance up at her, his eyes lit with hope. “I can feel it.”
“With your help, you just might be right,” Emily said.
Diego used the dropper the next time, squeezing tiny amounts onto Mario’s tongue so the dog could swallow it. The dog’s tail was thumping regularly now.
The boy looked up again. “I’m going to stay with him. You can go back to the center. I’ll be good here.”
“I know you will,” Emily said, her voice catching at the sight of Diego’s huge hands moving as delicately as butterflies around the ailing dog. “I’ll let Tiana know you’re getting Mario to take the broth. She’ll be happy to hear it.”
Tiana was astonished, jamming her hands onto her hips. “Who would have thought that great big boy would be so good with that little dog? You just never know. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“I don’t think you’ll need to, but I appreciate it. Let me know if anything changes.”
On her way out, Emily stopped at the reception desk to speak with Carla. “Would you print out a bill for the charges the dog has incurred so far?” She wanted to get an idea of how much she needed to scrape together for Mario’s care.
Carla held up her hand. “It’s all taken care of, sugar.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your boyfriend gave me his credit card and told me to just keep adding on to it until that little dog was well.”
“I don’t have a boy—” Emily stopped. “You mean the man who came in with us when we brought the dog in?”
“The smokin’ hot one, yeah.” Carla winked at Emily. “If he wasn’t yours, I’d like to get me a piece of him.”
Emily felt a blush climb her cheeks. “He’s not my boyfriend, so I don’t want him to pay for the dog. Please just bill me. Or I can give you my credit card.” She started to dig into her purse.
Carla shook her head. “Nuh-uh, hon. He was very clear that he was paying, not you. He told me you might argue, but I told him I was way tougher than you. So put your wallet away, because it ain’t gonna happen.”
Emily hated the selfish little voice that said Max was a billionaire, so why not let him pay for the dog. But, to paraphrase Carla, it wasn’t going to happen. He’d already done so much for the center. She wasnotgoing to let him take on a stray dog’s medical care.
She pulled out her cell phone and stared at it. Should she text him or discuss it with him face-to-face on Saturday?
She put her phone away. Texting would make it too easy for him to type backnoor something equally unyielding.
Turning on her heel, she marched out of the clinic. However, all the way back to the Carver Center, she allowed herself to bask in a warm glow that Maxwantedto pay for Diego’s little dog.
