Chapter 2
TWO
Dana typed as she walked, rapidly entering notes into her tablet while she made her way toward the break room, a skill that came in handy for distracting herself from a difficult—
“Oof!” She walked into something hard and unforgiving.
The tablet slipped through her fingers and clattered to the floor.
What the… Dana blinked, registering a tingling pain in her elbow at the same time she saw the crash cart that had been left in the hallway.
She rubbed her elbow as she bent to grab the tablet, growling in frustration when she saw the cracked screen. Had her notes saved?
Dana needed one fucking thing to go right today.
Just one. At least one. Her shift had begun eight hours ago, and in that time, she hadn’t managed a moment to eat or even use the bathroom.
She’d been too busy losing patients, three patients so far today, to be exact, and while yes, it was an expected part of her job as a veterinarian, three in one day was practically unheard of, and each one took an emotional toll.
To make things even worse, the owner of the patient whose notes she’d just been typing up, a cat Dana had diagnosed with severe kidney disease, had left with her cat untreated after learning how much it would cost. Dana feared the cat would die—a slow, painful death no less—unless someone could convince the owner to come back in, and if she couldn’t afford the treatment, there was little chance of that happening.
Bottom line: some shifts were just crap, and Dana still had four hours left in this one.
After a string of bad dates and a fight with her parents, she needed a win.
Desperately. There was a reason veterinarians had one of the highest suicide rates of any occupation in the US.
Not that she was feeling suicidal, but she definitely wanted to punch something.
Or cry. Yes, there was a real chance of that happening once she got home tonight.
“Dr. Roth?”
She paused just before she’d finally reached the sanctuary of the break room, where she might have had a chance to freshen up…
or at least take a few deep breaths to lessen the urge to scream.
She blinked back the tears that had risen in her eyes as she spun to face Vishai, the vet tech who’d called her name. “Yes?”
Her voice came out as calm and controlled as ever. She even managed a smile.
“We need you in exam room three for a stray dog hit by a car.”
Dana exhaled roughly. Why did the universe hate her today?
She’d asked for a win, and a stray dog hit by a car was almost always a loss.
There would be no one to cover the bill, which meant the poor animal would most likely be sent to the shelter untreated to wait until funds could be raised or humanely euthanized, depending on the severity of its injuries. “Prognosis?”
“Open fracture of the right front leg and possible internal bleeding. Pulse is elevated at 160, respiratory rate of 40.”
“Who brought the dog in?”
“A bystander,” he said. “There are no tags or microchip, and she looks like she hasn’t been properly fed in months, but of course, it’s possible there’s an owner out there.”
“Possible, but not likely.”
He grimaced. “Right.”
“Right,” she repeated, brushing her hands over the front of her scrub pants as she composed herself.
She could face four losses in one day. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d get through it.
And maybe—unlikely as it seemed—an owner would arrive to pay the bill so Dana might have the opportunity to at least try to save this dog.
Chin up, she pushed through the door to exam room three.
And nearly tripped over her own feet when she caught sight of the woman waiting with the dog in question.
That red dress…fuck. It clung to the woman’s figure, emphasizing her breasts and the curve of her hips with a slightly iridescent fabric that was incredibly sexy.
The woman stood with a poise that spoke of either money or status, perhaps both.
She stared straight at Dana, at once calm and in command of the situation, and this…
was not who Dana had expected her Good Samaritan to be.
“I’m Dr. Roth,” she said, her own voice leaving no doubt who was in charge.
“Laurel Adler,” the woman responded. “What’s the process here? This dog doesn’t seem to have an owner, and she’s going to need surgery.”
“Do you have veterinary experience?” Dana asked, noting the splint fashioned out of knitting needles and yarn on the dog’s broken leg.
As she spoke, she stepped in to begin her examination.
Vishai gently restrained the dog before Dana placed a stethoscope under her chest to listen to her respirations.
“No,” Laurel said. “I’m a neurosurgeon at Mount Sinai Hospital.”
Dana schooled her features to hide her surprise.
A neurosurgeon. Well, that explained the subtle arrogance.
Surgeons came by their reputation honestly, as far as she could tell.
The few she’d met over the years had looked down on her as a mere veterinarian.
“Nice job on your field dressing. As for the process, someone will need to pay for her treatment, and since there’s no owner… ”
Laurel’s eyebrows rose. “Really? I would be expected to pay, since I brought her in?”
“I’m not expecting you to do anything more than you’ve already done,” Dana countered as she looked inside the dog’s mouth. “Vishai will phone the local shelters and see if one of them will process her so they can begin the process of raising funds.”
Laurel’s eyes narrowed. “She needs surgery as soon as she’s stabilized.”
“Yes, she does.” Dana gently palpated the dog’s abdomen, noting the rigidity that indicated internal bleeding, along with her pale gums.
“There’s really no process for saving dogs unless someone pays upfront?” Laurel sounded outraged. “You would turn her away? Let her die?”
“I’ll do what I can to stabilize her while we try to find a shelter willing to assume responsibility for her care, but if her condition continues to deteriorate, I’ll humanely euthanize her to prevent unnecessary suffering.
” Dana stroked a hand over the dog’s soft fur, feeling another rip in her already torn heart.
The dog stared up at her with wide brown eyes, glazed with fear and shock.
“That’s horrible,” Laurel said.
“I know, but it’s the reality of my job.
” Dana kept stroking the dog, offering what comfort she could.
“If we tried to save them all without getting paid for our efforts, we’d be out of business within the month, and then we wouldn’t save any.
I’m certain you’ve had patients whose insurance declined to pay for necessary surgery? ” This was America after all.
Laurel’s expression pinched, and a familiar pain flitted across her features, a sense of helplessness Dana knew all too well. “Yes, of course.”
“Then you understand that my hands are tied, but I’ll do everything I can for her in the meantime.”
“I’ll pay,” Laurel said.
Dana tried to cover her surprise, but she couldn’t hide her relief. This was the win she’d needed. Thank god. Now she could get this dog into surgery and try to save her. “Thank you.”
“Do whatever needs to be done. I’ll pay the bill.”
“Just to be clear, it’ll likely be at least five thousand, once you factor in her hospital stay.”
Laurel resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Yes, she’d imagined as much. She stared Dr. Roth down, trying not to notice how unexpectedly attractive the veterinarian was.
Laurel had always found scrubs sexy—probably on account of how much time she spent in them and around other doctors wearing them—and Dr. Roth wore hers exceptionally well.
They were maroon, which brought out the reddish undertones in her dark blonde hair.
Laurel was thrilled to realize she could look now.
She could appreciate a woman—or a man, anyone who caught her eye—without feeling as if she were being unfaithful to Brian.
And Dr. Roth had definitely caught her eye.
Not only was she beautiful and seemingly competent at her job, but there had been something in her expression as she looked at the helpless dog on the table that struck a chord in Laurel.
She knew the feeling of wanting desperately to help a patient and knowing she might be prevented from doing her job—from saving a life—because of bureaucratic nonsense.
“I had assumed it would be in that ballpark, if not more,” she said. “I’ll pay for whatever she needs.”
Dr. Roth gave a firm nod, and when she met Laurel’s eyes that time, there was no mistaking her relief.
Also, no mistaking that their gazes held for an unnecessarily long beat.
Okay, Laurel wasn’t one hundred percent sure on that second point.
She’d never actually dated a woman, had been married to Brian for longer than she’d known she was bisexual, but she thought the veterinarian had checked her out when she first entered the room.
She liked to think Dr. Roth was interested. An hour post-divorce, that felt pretty damn flattering. Laurel straightened, pushing her shoulders back in a way that emphasized her cleavage, and sure enough, Dr. Roth’s gaze flicked to her chest. Laurel liked how that felt. A lot.
“I’ll get her stabilized and then into surgery,” Dr. Roth said, eyes now firmly on Laurel’s face. “Vishai will go over the paperwork with you and then take you to reception to pay a deposit for her care. Would you like a call to know the outcome of the surgery?”
“I would,” Laurel decided impulsively.
“All right.” Dr. Roth’s gaze was approving, and Laurel liked that too.