Page 6 of We Can Stay
“So,” I continue, adding my cell number on the notepad paper, trying to keep my voice casual, “I’ll stop by after work tomorrow and I promise not to bring Gerald. Mostly because he’s already planning to rob you blind, I can tell.”
Gerald chatters indignantly.
She hesitates, and I see the moment she decides. “That would be really nice. Thank you.”
She takes the paper from my hand, glancing at the numbers. “Is this the main office here or an after-hours number?”
“Actually,” I clear my throat suddenly feeling nervous, “it’s my personal cell. I want to make sure you have what you need if you have any problems.”
Flick’s eyes jump to mine and widen slightly in surprise. I don’t blame her. It’s not like I go around giving out my personal number frequently. But with Flick, there’s something special there, I can tell, and I want to make sure she can reach me for any reason.
“You, um, you give your cell to all your clients?” She smiles sweetly, a slight blush staining her cheeks.
“Only the ones who find kittens and call me hot.”
The words tumble out before I can stop them. Flick laughs, and I immediately backtrack: “I’m sorry. That was unprofessional. I’m not usually—Gerald, help me out here.”
The ferret ignores me, too busy trying to steal a tongue depressor.
“It’s fine,” Flick says, still smiling. “I’m not usually the type to blurt out embarrassing things to veterinarians either. Must be the day for firsts.”
“Good firsts, I hope?”
Our eyes meet and hold for a moment that stretches just a beat too long. The kitten breaks the spell when she rushes Flick and jumps on her arm, then starts climbing.
“Hey,” Flick tells it. “Stop, you…”
“She might need a name,” I chuckle.
“Yeah, I guess I need to call her something. So, I’ll call her…” She plucks the kitten from her shoulder and looks it in the eye. “Cat.”
“I can’t think of anything more fitting.”
“I should give you my number too, in case something comes up,” She offers and reaches for the pen and notepad, quickly jotting down her cell. “I should let you get back to your circus,” she says, gathering Cat and the supplies.
“Right. Beaumont probably has the whole waiting room organized into a poultry revolution by now.” I walk her back out to the front, Gerald draped over my shoulders, reluctant to let this end. “See you tomorrow?”
“Sure. See you tomorrow.”
I watch her walk through the waiting room, where Beaumont is indeed leading some sort of bird uprising from atop his carrier. She pauses at the front desk, and I hear her ask Rach, “He single?”
“Honey, he’s so single his ferret has started setting him up on dates,” Rach replies without missing a beat. “You interested?”
I should probably be embarrassed by this conversation happening ten feet away from me, but I find myself straining to hear Flick’s response.
“I—no. Maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t dated in... a while.”
“Well, he hasn’t either, so you’d be perfect for each other.” Rach winks.
Flick glances back over her shoulder, catches me watching, and quickly looks away. But she’s smiling as she leaves.
“Why are you seeing her tomorrow?” Rach walks up to me, eyebrows raised.
My eyes are still on Flick, walking across the street through the window. “I’m bringing her some stuff for the kitten.”
“Oh. We do deliveries now?”
I look at her, unsure of what to say. She smirks, though, and pats me on the shoulder.
