10 | What Other People See
The beagle on my table was not having it.
He’d been growling since Dr. Kaplan started on his left ear, a low rumble that vibrated through his whole body and into my hands where I held him steady.
Ear infection—I’d flagged it during intake, noticed the head tilting and the smell before Dr. Kaplan even looked.
She’d nodded, confirmed, and now I was the one keeping thirty pounds of furious dog from launching himself off the table while she worked.
“Easy, buddy.” I adjusted my grip on his scruff, kept my voice low and even. “Almost done.”
He whined. His owner—a woman in her fifties who’d apologized six times since walking in—leaned forward in her chair.
“He’s never like this at home.”
“They never are.” I held him firm but gentle, the way you learn to do after a few hundred exams. “He’s doing great. Just doesn’t love the attention.”
Dr. Kaplan finished the drops and stepped back. I held his head still while he tried to shake them out, his whole body vibrating with indignation. He looked at me with deep, personal betrayal.
“You’ll forgive me by tomorrow,” I told him.
I was logging the notes into the system when the front door chimed. I didn’t look up—Sophie handled the desk, and we had two more appointments today.
“I’m here for a walk-in,” a familiar voice said. “My neighbor’s dog has a thing.”
I looked up.
Hailey was standing at the reception counter, holding the leash of Mrs. Patterson’s ancient poodle, Biscuit. Biscuit, who had been in last week and was perfectly fine. Biscuit, who was currently wagging her tail and sniffing Sophie’s hand with zero urgency.
“That dog doesn’t have a thing,” I said.
“She’s been scratching.” Hailey didn’t even try to sound convincing. “It could be serious.”
“I gave Mrs. Patterson a cream last Tuesday.”
“Maybe it’s not working.”
I stared at her. She stared back, smiling with the particular brightness of someone who had no intention of leaving.
“Fine.” I sighed. “Give me ten minutes.”
I finished the notes, cleaned the exam table, restocked the drawer Dr. Kaplan had emptied. Checked my phone on the counter—nothing new.
The last message in my thread with Theo was from Friday night.
Goodnight, Tessa.
Five days ago.
Long enough to notice.
I put my phone face down on the counter.
Focused on the work.
“Ready,” I called.
Hailey brought Biscuit into the exam room and lifted her onto the table while I went through the basics I could handle on my own—weight, temperature, a look at her coat and the skin she’d supposedly been scratching.
“She’s fine,” I said.
“Thorough exam. Very professional.”
“Hailey.”
“What? I brought you a patient.”
I pulled off my gloves and tossed them in the bin. “You brought me Mrs. Patterson’s perfectly healthy poodle as an excuse.”
“Both can be true.” She scratched behind Biscuit’s ears, and the dog leaned into her hand with her eyes half-closed. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
I picked up Biscuit’s leash and handed it to her. “I have real patients.”
“You have fifteen minutes. I checked with Sophie.”
Of course she did.
We walked out together—through the back door, past the small lot behind the clinic, onto the sidewalk. The air was warm and Biscuit trotted between us with the satisfied energy of a dog who’d successfully avoided any real medical procedure.
“So,” Hailey said, after half a block of silence she clearly found unbearable. “You and Theo.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
She let a beat pass. “Emma’s wedding. His work party. The gym on Saturday. It sounds like something.”
“How do you know about the gym?”
“Theo had to bail on Nate to go with you.” She paused.
“We’re just going to events together,” I said. “That’s it. It’s an arrangement.”
“An arrangement.”
“Yes.”
A beat.
I exhaled.
“It’s fake,” I said finally.
Hailey stilled.
“What?”
“We are fake dating.” I kept my eyes on Biscuit, on the way she circled the hydrant like it was the most important thing in the world. “We made a deal. So Charles would back off. So things would stop being… weird.”
Silence stretched between us.
“And that’s it?” she asked.
“That’s it.”
She studied me, slower this time. More carefully.
“And you’re okay with that.”
“Yes.”
Another beat.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Too fast. I felt it.
We stood there while Biscuit sniffed with forensic dedication, and Hailey watched me in a way that made me feel like the hydrant.
“Nate sees him a lot, you know.”
I frowned. “How so?”
“They train together. Work out, grab drinks sometimes.” She shrugged.
I didn’t say anything.
Hailey glanced at me.
“I don’t think you see him the way other people do,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Nate talks about him a lot. The way he shows up for people. The way he—” She stopped. “I don’t know. I just think you might be missing something.”
“I’ve known him since I was four.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I know.”
We walked in silence for half a block. I was thinking of something to say—something deflecting, something light—when a voice behind us said,
“Excuse me—Tessa?”
I turned.
A man was crossing the street toward us, a golden retriever trotting beside him on a loose leash.
He was dressed like he’d come from an office—dark trousers, a blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbow.
A leather laptop bag hung across his chest.
Brown hair, clean-shaven, the kind of face that was handsome without trying to be.
“Tom,” I said, already smiling.
Easy. Automatic.
“Tessa.” His grin came easily. “My favorite vet.”
“I’m not even the vet.”
“Details.” He glanced down as Bailey pressed into my hand. “She disagrees. Pretty sure you’re her favorite person right now too.”
I scratched behind her ears, and she leaned harder, tail sweeping.
“Yeah?” I said. “You’re just saying that because I fixed her.”
“No,” he said, watching me. “I’m saying that because she’s never this excited to see me.”
I huffed a quiet laugh.
“Magic hands,” he added.
“Careful,” I said. “That’s a big claim.”
“I stand by it.” A beat. “She’s been sleeping through the night again. Whatever you did—it worked.”
“Diet,” I said. “You did the hard part.”
“I followed instructions.” His mouth curved. Then—a slight shift, more direct now. “There’s this place on Ashland. Coffee, pastries.” He nodded toward Bailey. “She thinks we should go.”
“Oh, she does?”
“Yeah. She told me earlier. Very insistent.” He glanced down at her. “Right?”
Bailey wagged her tail like she’d been briefed.
I smiled despite myself.
“That’s really nice of you,” I said. “But things are still a little… complicated right now.”
“Complicated like ‘bad timing,’” he said, easy, “or complicated like ‘I should try again next week’?”
I hesitated.
He caught it.
“Because I can be patient,” he added lightly. “I mean, worst-case scenario”—he gestured to Bailey—“I get a her a sister just to have an excuse to come see you more often.”
That pulled a real laugh out of me.
“Please don’t adopt a dog for that reason.”
“Why not? Seems like a solid long-term investment.”
“It’s not.”
“Agree to disagree.” His smile softened just a little. “Offer stands, as always. Coffee. No pressure. Whenever complicated becomes less complicated.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I know.” He gave a small nod, like he’d already decided not to push further. “Come on, Bailey.”
I watched him walk away—easy stride, Bailey beside him. The whole picture as simple as the conversation had been. Nothing stirred. No warmth spreading where it shouldn’t.
No awareness of the space he’d left behind.
Just a nice man who’d asked a simple question and taken a simple answer.
Hailey was watching me when I turned back.
“You should go out with him,” she said.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because we have this thing with Theo.” I glanced down at Biscuit. “We agreed it’s… exclusive. For appearances.” So Charles backs off.” I exhaled. “And it would just get messy. The timing—”
“Right.” She watched Biscuit circle the hydrant. “When does the fake thing end?”
“Three weeks. Maybe less.”
“So in three weeks, you’ll go out with him?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
Hailey looked at me.
I looked at Biscuit.
My phone sat silent in my pocket.
Five days without a message.
Not that I was counting.
Hailey studied me for a long moment.
“Nate’s birthday this weekend,” she said. “Are you coming as a couple?”
“I don’t know.” I adjusted my grip on the leash. “We haven’t really talked since the gym.”
A pause.
“That bad?” she asked.
“It’s not—” I exhaled. “It’s just… not simple.”
“Very unmessy of you both,” she said dryly.
I huffed a quiet breath. “My shift starts in a few minutes. I really have to go, Hales.”
I stepped back.
Turned before she could say anything else.
My hand slipped into my pocket before I could stop it.
Fingers brushing against my phone.
I hesitated.
I could just text him.
Simple.
Easy.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
Then I pulled my hand back out.
Nate’s birthday.
Three days.
????
Team Theo or team Tom?
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