Ch. 31 – Prem
P rem made the turn into the small parking lot behind the clinic and sighted Layla’s SUV in her normal spot. His pulse tripled. A swoony smile found its way onto his face.
You’re such a dolt, he thought to himself. Thing was, he didn’t care one bit. Pulling a piece of toast from the pocket of his sports coat, he made his way through the back of the clinic knowing exactly where she’d be.
He found her at the exam table, facing away from him, her focus on the orange tabby slowly walking across the table.
And damn, if his heart didn’t threaten to beat right out of his chest.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Prem said.
She turned, a wide smile already dawning on her face. Layla’s smiles were pure sunshine. If a Layla smile went up for auction, he might just sell his soul to buy it.
She beckoned him over. “See how well Sunny’s doing.”
Prem approached the table and watched as the cat walked on shaky back legs, Layla holding up the sling and cooing words of encouragement.
“I’m barely taking any of his weight,” she said. “I think in another week or two, he might be able to walk unassisted.”
“Good job, my man,” Prem said, his smile broadening. If Sunny had learned to read Shakespeare, graduated valedictorian of Harvard, or solved the great mystery of why one sock always disappeared in the dryer, Prem wouldn’t have felt prouder.
Another feeling seeped into his chest. A tender melancholy. He kissed Layla’s shoulder. “Soon, Sunny won’t need us anymore. We’ll need to find him a forever home.”
“Soon, but not today,” Layla responded. “Sunny, I think you deserve a break.” She let down the sling and turned into Prem’s body.
*
Twenty minutes and a short but intense makeout session in front of a very confused cat later, Prem settled into his squeaky office chair to review his upcoming appointments for the day. Pulling open the drawer that held his tablet and stylus, he paused and smiled at the bright pink sticky note stuck to the tablet.
You are worthy of success, happiness, and love.
Just a few weeks ago, Prem would have scoffed at such a message. But Layla had opened his heart. If she believed he was worthy of success and happiness…and love, then maybe, just maybe, it was true.
Carefully, Prem pulled the sticky note from his tablet. He paused, the note dangling from his index finger. The frame of his computer was completely filled with similar colorful notes. Prem frowned, then shrugged, and carefully laid the latest on the corner of his desk. He used his thumb to smooth down the note, making sure it adhered to the surface of the desk.
The door to his office flew open, and Deja staggered inside, a half-eaten Pop-Tart clutched between her teeth.
“Arnmmmfyeeemeef?” she asked.
Prem frowned. “What?”
Deja took the Pop-Tart from her mouth and swallowed. A few crumbs clung to her chin. “You asked to see me this morning. I know I’ve been late a few times this week. So, um, are you going to fire me?”
She stared at him with round, worried eyes. Prem looked her up and down, from her un-tucked shirt to the mismatched tennis shoes on her feet. One shoe was untied.
“I’m not going to fire you,” he told her. “You have a young kid. That’s gotta be hard.”
“I’ll try harder, I swear. I can work extra hours on Saturday and…wait, what?” Deja’s words sputtered to a halt.
“Sit down, please.” Prem beckoned at the chair in front of his desk. “I know you’re doing your best. It’s not that big of a deal for me to prep the first patient of the day on my own. When you do get here, you’re great.”
Deja shot him a look filled with suspicion as she slowly lowered herself into the chair. “You’re… actually being understanding?”
Prem decided to ignore that little quip. He folded his arms on the desk. “Now that I’ve got the practice up and running, I’ve been thinking about the future. I want to expand over the next couple of years. Yucca Hills is only going to get bigger, and we’re already swamped as it is.”
Deja nodded and took a cautious bite of her Pop-Tart.
Prem studied her carefully. “You want to be a vet, don’t you?”
Deja coughed, spraying his desk with Pop-Tart crumbs. After a difficult swallow, she looked at him in astonishment. “How did you know that?”
Prem laced his fingers. “I see it in the way you interact with animals. You have a connection with them that can’t be taught. You’ve also got a lot of empathy, an analytical mind, and strong instincts. That’s a rare combination. I think you could be a great vet.”
“T…thanks.” Deja suddenly looked embarrassed. “It is something I’ve thought about. A lot, actually.”
“The schooling is no joke,” Prem warned her. “A lot of people burn out.”
Deja nodded. “I know. I’ve, um, looked into it in the past.”
“If you want to go for it, I’ll support you,” Prem told her. “I can cut your hours at the practice, and you can perform your residency here when you get to that stage.”
Deja sucked in her cheeks. “That’d be…incredible actually…but,” she looked at him intently. “I gotta ask, what’s in it for you?”
Prem smirked. Deja may not be as brutally blunt as Kate, but she didn’t dance around her thoughts, either.
“The truth? I want to focus more on exotic pets,” Prem admitted. It was still difficult to say the words aloud. He’d become so used to nurturing this dream in secret. He swallowed. “Cats and dogs are the bread and butter of any clinic. If I had a second vet who could take on more canines and felines, that would free me up to focus on my specialty.”
When Prem had opened the clinic, his main focus— his only focus, had been to make the practice as profitable as possible. That meant pushing down his desire to work with exotics. It also meant running himself and his team ragged in order to squeeze as much productivity out of everyone, himself included, as possible.
Prem’s gaze flicked to the pink sticky note on his desk.
You are worthy of success, happiness, and love.
Everything was beginning to change. He wanted to give life to his dream even if working with exotics wouldn’t bring in as much money into the clinic. And he wanted a life outside of his practice.
A life he could share with Layla.
If that meant the practice grew at a slower pace, he could live with that. And he’d just have to convince his parents to live with it, too.
“The problem is even if you’d give me the hours off, I can’t afford vet school,” Deja said, bringing his attention back to her.
“It’s not cheap,” he agreed. “But I may be able to help with that, too. I want to promote you, which comes with a pay raise. Prem kept his expression neutral but enjoyed how Deja’s mouth dropped open in shock.
The vet tech looked around. “What’s happening? Did I just walk into an alternative universe?” She squinted at Prem. “No goatee, but still…”
“I’d like you to step into the role of practice manager on top of your vet tech duties,” Prem powered on. “It’d add a lot of administrative responsibilities to your plate, but I think you could handle it.”
Deja narrowed her eyes. “Delegating responsibility for the practice? Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Dr. Dhawan?”
Prem ignored her. “Kate and Layla would work under you. I’d also hire a new part-time vet tech to help take over some of your hours. That’d also allow you to come in a little later in the morning, and we could possibly take you off the Saturday rotation.”
The suspicion didn’t leave Deja’s face. “But paying me more and hiring another employee would cost more money. You hate spending money.”
So true. Prem winced as he remembered all the numbers he’d crunched over the weekend. The changes he proposed would cut his profit margins to the bone. It’d also lower his take-home pay to below what he needed to make the aggressive payments his parents had dictated in their loan.
That would have to be a negotiation for another day. These changes, and whatever groveling he’d have to perform for his parents, would be worth it to build the kind of practice he wanted.
Across the desk, Deja’s lips arched into a knowing smile. “Oooooooh, I see.” She laughed and leaned back in her chair. “If I became the practice manager, I’d technically be Layla’s boss instead of you, right?”
“Correct.” Prem brushed a few Pop-Tart crumbs off his desk and fidgeted in his chair. “It’s the practical thing to do. You’re better with people, anyway. And this way, I could maintain a degree of separation from—”
“—From the person you’re boinking?”
Prem almost fell out of his chair. “Boinking?” he sputtered. “Why would you even—”
“God, it’s sooo obvious.” Deja rolled her eyes. “You and Layla might as well have signs on your foreheads saying I’m twitterpated . Even Kate figured it out. And Kate makes an active effort not to figure anything out about anybody.”
Prem tried to object. Tried to assemble a half-coherent sentence. Tried to remember basic English. Failed on all counts.
“I think it’s great, oddly enough,” Deja continued, oblivious to his discomfort. “I’ve actually never seen Layla happier.” She put the last piece of Pop-Tart in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. “And you’re finally tolerable. So, I’m all for Team Prayla.”
“Team…Prayla?” he managed.
“That’s what Kate and I call you.” Deja winked at him. “Okay, it’s what I call you. Kate basically vomits whenever I try to gossip about anything with her, but she grunts sometimes, which I think is her version of approval.”
Prem could barely process what was happening. His employees not only knew about his relationship with Layla, but they now had an unofficial couple name?
Deja looked at her phone, and her eyebrows shot up on her forehead. “Jelly Bean is coming in for her dental cleaning in five minutes. We’ve got to get moving.”
She stood from her chair. “I’m not ready to start vet school yet, but I want to do it.” She paused. “No, I’m going to do it. In the meantime, I’ll be your practice manager. Let me think things through tonight, and I’ll have a salary number for you tomorrow.”
She jutted out her hand across the desk.
Prem stared for a second, before finding himself and standing. He took her hand. “I already have an hourly wage increase in mind.”
Deja grinned. “Good. That’ll be our negotiating floor. Can’t wait to chat tomorrow.”
They shook on it, and Deja practically skipped out of the office.