Chapter 3 #2
Piper sighs fondly and tilts her head. “Maeve. Before you came here, it was just Blair and me running back and forth doing all the errands,” she says gently. “Having you here has made our jobs much easier. I don’t need to be lounging at the desk all the time.”
“This job is the best job I’ve ever had,” I tell her honestly. “Retail sucks. I’d rather scoop litter all day than go back to those shifts.”
She chuckles. “Oh, I’m aware. Been there, done that. Now go to the desk and make a viral video for us. As long as you’ll be okay with the scents up there?”
There’s a twinkle in her eye when she says it, as if she’s challenging me.
I roll my eyes and head out of the playroom to see Alvin perched on the edge of the front counter expectantly. He’s on a soft blue blanket with a fish pattern, created by Blair’s packmate, Travis. The rescue is full of different swaddling blankets and tiny kitten hats courtesy of him.
We used to receive anonymous donations of adorable blankets for the animals, and we only found out recently that it was Travis sending them the whole time.
Blair’s love story with her pack is adorable. So is Piper’s.
I hope that my story with my pack will be just as sweet, if not more.
And hopefully, Ivan is involved with his sweet caramel apple scent.
I wouldn’t mind if a certain vanilla and bourbon aroma had something to do with it, too.
Plopping into the desk chair and rolling it to the computer, I log in to one of our media accounts and begin to work on a post about Alvin. He’s gone viral in the last week, so hopefully, posting more about him will get eyes on the rescue.
Only three more hours until my lunch break, then I can finally meet Logan.
Will he like me? Will my scent entice him, like his calls to me?
Or will he just think I’m the weird girl with purple hair?
I try not to think too much about it, instead busying myself with replying to comments and inquiries about Furs and Purrs.
My goal is to make every resident in Luna County know who we are. Even if someone doesn’t like cats, they need to know the name Furs and Purrs as a resource in case a cat needs help.
Which has actually happened. We received a message from a grumpy old guy the other week, telling us that there was a litter of kittens in his backyard and he didn’t want anything to do with them, and someone needed to come out and take care of it.
I happily went with my brother to the house and almost got the surly Beta man to crack a smile before we left.
So, I’ll be damned if the Beans and Alvins of the area don’t get the support they deserve.
After a good hour of work, I hear a gentle chirp.
Alvin paws gently at my left hand, interrupting my typing.
“Hey,” I warn him. “Blair says you’re on a diet. I’m not supposed to give you any treats.”
It’s tempting, though. It’s hard to say no to his grey face, especially when he flirts with his slow blinks.
Wait…
“What’s wrong with your eye?” I ask, a flare of panic spiking in my chest.
One is slightly more squinty than the other. During his slow blink, one eye didn’t full open again.
But he nuzzles into my touch, his purr as loud as a car engine as I lean closer to inspect.
“Hey,” I whisper. “What’s going on?”
Then, Alvin lowers his head to paw quickly at his squinty eye.
When he’s done, he looks back at me, still purring.
But one eye is almost all the way closed.
Another spike of panic makes my chest clench.
It’s just a squinty eye. It’s not the end of the world, and Alvin is fine.
But then he paws at it again, and I’m yanking open the drawer to the desk and grabbing the package of eye wipes out of it.
He’s patient as he lets me dab at the outside of his eye, but it still stays squinty after.
And it turns out searching his symptoms online isn’t a good idea. The results point to numerous damning diagnoses.
Forgetting my excitement at seeing Ivan and meeting Logan, I snap a picture of Alvin’s face on my phone then hurry out of the front of the building, motioning at Piper from the cat playroom to watch the reception area while I’m gone.
Whatever she sees on my face must startle her, because she widens her eyes and nods.
Then, I’m bursting into the clinic, my phone still open to the photo of Alvin.
“Hey!” Ramona says, waving from her desk. “How’s Bean?”
“He’s fine,” I say breathlessly. “Um…does Ivan have any time?”
Ramona’s smile fades. “Yeah. Is everything okay?”
“Yes! Yup. Uh-huh,” I stammer, sounding ridiculous. “I just need to ask him a question.”
Squinty-eyed Alvin is burned in my mind, and I’m catastrophizing every second I don’t have an answer.
“Yeah, I can let him know—” Ramona starts, but a wave of apple and caramel scent wafts through the air the same time an exam room door opens.
Ivan grins, showing off charming dimples, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
My inner Omega purrs awake, licking her lips hungrily.
But then the worries come crashing back down, and I hurry into the room when he motions me in.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, shutting the door as his smile fades. “What’s wrong?”
“I think Alvin has a brain tumor,” I blurt out, my voice cracking.
There’s a pause as Ivan processes my words. “You think what?”
“Here.” I hand him my phone. “He was fine, but then he started squinting. And I looked it up—”
But my words die off when the back door to the tiny exam room opens, and the newest addition to the staff walks in.
Spicy, warm bourbon and rich vanilla fill my senses, and everything I was about to say comes to a screeching halt as I take in the Alpha in front of me.
Golden brown eyes regard me curiously, and I forgot how to breathe.
His dirty blonde hair is tousled slightly, just long enough for me to run my fingers through if I wanted, and his jawbones are so sharp it’s ridiculous. With full lips and strong nose, he’s more handsome than I anticipated.
My inner Omega is doing the worm.
He towers over both me and Ivan in his black pants, sky blue shirt, and long white coat.
I gape at him like an idiot, my attention falling to the stethoscope that hangs around his neck, my face burning.
But his attention quickly goes from me to Ivan.
“Everything okay in here?” Logan asks him, while I stand there gawking. Logan turns back to me, his brow furrowed, while Ivan looks at my phone.
“Is this what you were worried about?” Ivan asks me. “With Alvin?”
“He just started pawing at his eye, and now he won’t stop squinting,” I say, the worry creeping back up. Logan peers over at my phone screen, his expression neutral.
“How long ago did this start?” he asks me, keeping his eyes on my phone and not bothering with any introductions.
“Like fifteen minutes ago,” I say, shame making my throat tighten. I realize how ridiculous I sound as soon as I say it out loud, but that doesn’t stop the panic.
But Ivan, being used to my urgency, simply quirks his lip. “Probably a piece of fur in it. There’s no gunk or anything? Was it super watery?”
I shake my head. “No, it just started, and I ran here.”
Logan finally turns his attention to me, his warm brown eyes assessing me. “Did you have an appointment?”
“Oh, no,” I say, right as Ivan says, “it’s fine. She works next door.”
“I mean, obviously the cat’s not here,” I add, waving my hand. “He’s at the rescue. That’s Alvin.”
“I met him earlier,” Logan confirms, his voice neutral. He looks to Ivan. “Don’t we have an appointment right now--”
“I’m Maeve, by the way,” I interrupt him, grinning widely. “It’s nice to meet you. Ivan has told me a lot of great things about you.”
The atmosphere has turned awkward, and I can’t tell exactly why.
Either Logan has the people skills of a turtle, or I’ve missed the mark entirely and have forgotten how to have a normal conversation.
“Hello,” he replies, not looking at me, only at Ivan. “Well, we have cats to look at, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to our next appointment.”
What the hell?
Ivan looks sheepish. “Yeah. Sorry Maeve, we’re slammed.”
“Of course! Save all the kitties,” I add brightly. “I just had that quick question about Alvin.”
“Yeah, Maeve,” Ivan chuckles. “No brain tumor, I don’t think.”
Now, it’s my turn to feel sheepish.
Logan turns sharply to me, his eyes narrowed. “Brain tumor?” he repeats. “Is there any other reason besides the mild squint that you would think that?”
“Uh…no,” I laugh awkwardly, my stomach sinking. “I just looked it up online—”
“Well, that’s your first mistake. Looking things up online is never helpful.”
I blink.
Ivan looks between Logan and me, shifting uncomfortably.
“Right,” I say slowly, hoping my face doesn’t look as flushed as it feels. “My mistake.”
And Logan, for the first time, looks confused. “Yeah.”
His social skills are subpar, to say the least, and I’m humiliated at his reaction to the worries I already know are ridiculous.
It’s time for me to leave before I embarrass myself more.
“Cool. I’ll see you later,” I say to Ivan, smiling broadly at him. He beams back at me, and I shoot a glance at Logan, who’s still watching me. “Nice to meet you,” I deadpan, then head out of the room, feeling like a cat with her tail between her legs.
What the hell was that?
Shameful tears prick at my eyes when I burst back into the rescue, Alvin waiting expectantly for me, both eyes open wide, not a squint in sight.
Of course.
My brother is there too, chatting with Piper, who leans over the counter to laugh with him.
Even seeing my brother doesn’t elevate my mood.
My ridiculous brain messed up the potential meet cute I could have had with the new vet.
And his rude brain called out my ridiculous brain.
Avery’s smile falls when he sees me, and so does Piper’s. “Hey, kiddo,” he says. “Everything okay?”
“What happened?” Piper asks. “You just ran out the door without saying anything.”
“I had a question for Ivan,” I say. “And I met Logan.”
There must be something on my face, because Piper’s expression falls. “And it didn’t go well,” she says. It’s not a question. It’s an observation.