Chapter 4
brAXTON
My veterinary clinic comes to life as I step inside and start flicking on the lights.
As the room illuminates, I glance around with a weary smile.
Squishy waiting chairs in a soft beige, stacks of magazines spread over the glass tables, animal-safe plants galore.
The three kittens we have waiting to be adopted meow at me before running up the cat tree in front of the window.
The runt of the litter—Rufus—stands on his hind legs and presses his front paws to the window as he lets out a low, long meow.
“No way, buddy. You only think you want to be out there because of the pretty colours, but trust me. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” I tell him. He looks at me like he understands what I’m saying, which I definitely think he can, even if it’s a bit unethical.
The clinic doesn’t open for another hour, but it’s only our third week in business with myself as owner, and the antsy feeling inside of me has yet to simmer down.
We’ve done extremely well for only being open a few weeks, but I’m a self-diagnosed perfectionist and refuse to leave anything up to chance.
So, I come in early and make sure everything is the way it should be before my staff and patients arrive.
My teal-blue Converse squeak on the tile as I head for my office, fully intent on just checking the schedule and swapping my black cardigan for my white coat, but as soon as I spot the holes of missing dog food bags on the display wall, I change directions.
Before long, I’m dragging heavy bags of food out of the storage room and struggling to lift them onto the empty shelves.
I may have gotten ahead of myself when I thought it was a good call to bring every missing bag out to the waiting room instead of taking them one by one, especially now that I realize I can’t reach some of the higher shelves.
My five-foot-five height makes me scowl.
I’m not short, but I’m not tall either. I’m stuck in the middle, neither here nor there. A place I’ve never liked to be.
The bell above the door jingles, and I blow stray curls out of my face as I look over my shoulder. I grin and drop the bag back to the floor.
“Thank God. I need your help to put these up on the shelves,” I say.
Marco Creeve, the only other veterinarian I’ve hired to work at my clinic, gives me a beaming white smile as he shakes his head and quickly toes off his dirty shoes on the doormat. “There are employees whose sole purpose is to do these things for you, you know?”
With his pale green eyes twinkling, he meets me by the mess I’ve made and, with ease, lifts the ninety-pound bag of healthy-weight dog food I was just struggling with before setting it on the designated shelf and starting on the other bags.
I stand and brush the dust off my scrub pants. “I was already here. Figured I might as well get a head start. What are you doing here so early?”
“I have an early appointment. A golden retriever swallowed a teddy bear two days ago and hasn’t eaten since.”
“Crap.”
“Nope. Hasn’t done that either,” he says, chuckling.
“Ha-ha. I’m going to clean myself up before we open.”
“Sounds good. Micaela just pulled up outside. She’ll get everything ready to go.”
Micaela runs the front desk and pretty much everything else that needs to be taken care of in the front during the day. I don’t know how I would do it without her.
With quick strides, I’m heading to my office for the second time this morning. The space is cozy, inviting, and I feel at home the second I step inside. With bookshelves lining the wall behind my desk and a desk chair I spent far too much on, it’s my own version of paradise.
My coat is hanging off a hook on the wall beside my framed vet degree, and I take off my cardigan, exchanging it for the coat, and then brush my thumb over the stitched name like I do every morning.
Dr. Braxton Heights. Pride fills my chest.
I grab my stethoscope and loop it around my neck before sticking my hands in the pockets of my coat and heading back out.
It took six years for me to finish school and another two to move back home, but this place .
. . this clinic was a surprise. I’m proud of myself for everything I’ve accomplished in my life, and while I might have decided to take a risk as a business owner with hopes of impressing my father, I’m hoping that I’ll grow to love it more and more each day.
It’s the beginning of another journey. One I hope will turn out better than the one that pushed me to leave Vancouver eight years ago.
“I want to see Whiskey again in about three months for a follow-up shot, but for now, he’s right as rain,” I say, scratching behind the ear of a totally loveable chocolate Lab.
From my crouched position, we’re at eye level, and he doesn’t hesitate to give me a slobbery kiss from my jaw to my eyebrow.
His tail wags excitedly and thumps against the wall as his owner, Cindy—an older woman with a silver bob and kind eyes—smiles at me and nods along.
“Whiskey, don’t drown the poor doctor,” she half-heartedly scolds.
“It’s totally okay. I don’t have a dog of my own yet, so I’m all for a bit of slobber.” With one more ear scratch, I pat Whiskey’s head and stand, my feet sore from the long day.
“You said you don’t have a dog yet. Does that mean you’re looking for a dog?”
“I would like to. I only moved back to Vancouver a few months ago and just haven’t had the time yet,” I tell her.
Cindy gifts me another genuine smile and hooks Whiskey’s leash back to his collar. “Well, I wish you a great experience looking for your new best friend. Dogs are such amazing companions. I wouldn’t know what to do without mine anymore.”
“He looks like he would be a great cuddler. I’m sure he makes great company.”
She laughs softly. “He’s a bed hog, but it’s just me, so I don’t mind.
” Her happy tone dips ever so slightly, and I get the feeling she’s been through tough times in her life.
I want to reach out and hug her but decide against it.
“I should let you get back to work, I suppose. I’ve let myself get chatty again.
Thank you for the great checkup. We will be back in three months. ”
I reach around her and open the exam room door. The waiting room is empty, with Cindy and Whiskey being my last appointment of the day. The promise of a long, hot bath and a glass of wine has kept me pushing through the rest of the afternoon when the soles of my feet started to whimper.
“It was my pleasure,” I say and lead the way to the front desk, where Micaela sits waiting. She grins when she sees us. “These two need an appointment for three months from now.”
“Sounds good. Come on over and we can figure out when works best.”
Cindy reaches for my hand and gives it a quick squeeze before leading Whiskey over to the desk. Micaela gets right to work figuring out the bill and when they should book the next appointment while I leave them and go to my office to start getting everything cleaned up and organized for tomorrow.
It’s only just past five, but as soon as I sit in my chair and fire up my computer, my stomach grumbles loud enough I’m sure the people walking along the sidewalk outside could hear. That will teach me to skip lunch again.
“Hungry?”
I snap my head up and flush when I see Marco standing in the doorway, his paw-printed black scrubs fitting his body a little too nicely.
He’s a handsome man, with light blond hair the colour of hayfields in the summer cut short on the sides and just slightly longer on top.
His eyes are a pretty shade of blue that I like to look at, but that’s as far as my interest goes.
In all the years that I spent away at university, I’d only ever officially dated a couple of guys. Not a single one of those relationships was anything to write home about. I wasn’t their type, and as soon as they realized that they weren’t into chubby girls, I was last week’s news.
“I’m starving. I worked through lunch.”
“You work too hard. Take a break every once in a while. You deserve it,” he says.
I collect my unruly curls in my hands and drape them over my back, wishing I had a hair tie handy.
My smile is weak, exhaustion mixing with hunger.
“I keep telling myself that too, but I never actually do it. Right now, all I want to do is eat one of those massive burgers from the diner down the street.”
He taps his knuckles to the wall and stands up straighter. “Let’s go, then. I’m on my way out, anyway. Let me buy you dinner.”
I fumble my reply. “Like a co-worker dinner?”
“Sure.” He shrugs. “Or not.”
“Marco . . .” I start before my phone starts to ring from my desk drawer. It’s a fight to keep the relief from showing on my face. I’ve always had expressive features—it’s bitten me in the ass a few too many times. “Sorry. It could be important.”
“No worries. I’ll be by the front desk when you’re done.”
I nod stiffly and push away the unease that’s crept up on me. Once he’s gone, I pull out my phone and relax when I see the contact name on the screen.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. Are you still at work?”
“I am. Nearly done for the day, though.”
Knowing I’m not going to be able to concentrate on work anymore, I turn off my computer again and lean back in my chair.
“Perfect. I’ve made your favourite for dinner,” Mom preens.
“Baked mac and cheese? Did you intend on bribing your way to a visit tonight?” I tease.
She laughs, and the sound is so bright it has me smiling big enough my cheeks hurt.
“You know me too well. I made enough for you to take some home with you for lunches this week. Should I meet you at your house? I could help you hang up some of your photos in the living room that you’ve been putting off. ”
“Sounds good. I can leave right now, so give me maybe twenty minutes.”
The sound of hands clapping floats through the call before she says, “I’ll be waiting. Drive safe. Love you.”
“Love you. See you soon.”
I hang up and rush around the office, pulling off my stethoscope and ditching my coat before grabbing my cardigan and slipping it on. After flipping off the light and shutting the office door, I meet Marco by the front desk and give him my best apologetic smile.
“Dinner with my mom. I’m sorry,” I tell him.
If he’s too disappointed by the news, he hides it well, which I appreciate. It’s best not to muddle our good work relationship with dinner dates.
“That’s okay. Maybe another time. Let me walk you to your car at least. I sent Micaela home already.”
“Sure. Thank you.”
He hovers a respectful hand against the middle of my back, and we leave the clinic in silence. After I lock up, he walks me to my car and waits until I’ve driven off before getting into his own.
The radio plays softly as I smile and continue home. Another day down, and a great one at that. It might have taken a boatload of pep talks, but days like these are exactly why I came back home.
Nothing could ruin this for me.