Page 23 of Love Out Loud

Chapter Ten

Fiona’s exam room at Animal Attraction was clean and bright, and though Jake detected a hint of animal and antiseptic, it was nothing like the dog-hell smells of the AKC event.

He’d been relieved when she’d agreed to come straight here and not pick up her two dogs on the way, after he told her it would be a short session where they would only brainstorm.

“Gimme a sec,” she said, digging in the big bag she’d placed on the stainless steel exam table. “I need to text Jane and Caitlin to let them know we’re here.” From inside the bag, the puppy made a muffled, sleepy sound.

“I was under the impression you were an owner of Animal Attraction,” he said, taking in the degree, license, and certifications on the far wall. There were also numerous framed award certificates and photos of animals.

“I am a co-owner.” She pushed her glasses up on her nose and fiddled with her phone. Her voice sounded distracted, as if she were talking to herself. “But it’s a courtesy we put in place after Caitlin walked in on Jane and Paul one time.” After a short, embarrassed intake of breath, she closed her eyes and cleared her throat, body stiff. “Not that I need to warn them because there’s a potential for that kind of problem.” She had begun speaking superfast, and Jake fought back a smile. “I mean, we’re working on a speech and not working on…you know… Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She threw her arms up. “You know what I mean. All of us check in if we’re here after hours.” She stuffed the phone back in her bag and leaned against the exam table, eyes closed.

Jake sort of liked that she rarely looked directly at him when she spoke. It enabled him to study her—for professional purposes, of course. And, if he was honest with himself, he also had to concede he liked studying her nonprofessionally. She reminded him of a deer—graceful and awkward all at once. Fiona’s demeanor was completely unplanned and unpretentious. Again, he looked at the certificates and photos on her wall, and her shyness struck him as out of place. She should be walking confidence circles around everyone. Certainly competence circles. God, the brain power and retention she must have in order to have accomplished so much.

Staring at a poster taped to the back of the door that featured some disgusting images depicting the life cycle of a heartworm, she crossed her arms under her breasts, which caused her neckline to gap a bit, revealing a tiny bit of pink lace on her bra.

Client, he reminded himself, this time feeling more regret than conviction.

“So, let’s start with a new outline,” he suggested, removing his laptop from his leather case and setting it on a small Formica desk area against the wall. Pulling a round stool on casters over, he opened a blank document, then swiveled to face her. “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

She shook her head. “That’s fine.”

After starting the recording, he said, “I want to start with some bullet points first.”

Relaxing against the exam table, she nodded.

“Why are you receiving this award?”

She shrugged. “I helped some homeless people’s pets.”

“That’s too generic,” he said. “The first thing to keep in mind when organizing an award acceptance speech is that extraordinary people receive awards for doing extraordinary things. You did something extraordinary. What was it?”

She blinked several times and looked puzzled. “Like I said—I helped some homeless people’s pets.”

This was going to be harder than anticipated. Again, Jake stared at the degrees, license, and awards. She was intelligent and obviously driven to succeed. Where was her ego?

“You say that like it’s no big deal. Is it something I could do?” he asked.

She slanted him a look that all but saidduh. “No.”

“Why not?”

Her voice was slow, like she was talking to a little kid, and he was pretty sure she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “You’re not a vet.”

“So, only a vet can help homeless people’s pets?”

This time, she rolled her eyes. “Of course not, but only a vet can spay, neuter, and vaccinate them.”

“Do all vets do this for homeless people’s pets?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it takes time and resources, and there is no money in it.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “How much time?”

She stared straight ahead as she rattled off her answer. “It varies. My hands-on animal time on the streets is two days every month. The second day is usually busier because word gets out that I’m in the area. We move around to a different part of Manhattan every month to make it easier for people who have limited mobility or access. I see anyone who shows up and do an examination of the animal and administer vaccinations, necessary testing, and minor treatments. We give out medicine if needed, and food. I also provide vouchers for spay and neuter surgeries, as well as necessary minor procedures, like tooth extractions. They can bring the voucher here, to Animal Attraction, the third Thursday of every month, and if the animal is healthy enough, I do the needed surgery in my operating room the following morning.”

---