Ch. 5 – Layla
A s Layla followed Dr. Dhawan through the back area of the clinic, she felt like a kid on her way to the principal’s office. Well…actually, she’d never been called to the principal’s office. In fact, she’d adored her high school principal, Ms. Henderson. The older woman was even planning to attend her wedding in two and a half months.
Still, Layla could now imagine how a trip to Ms. Henderson’s office might have felt; like a pit of dread slowly growing in her stomach. Dr. Dhawan moved forward with long, intense strides, but Layla noticed a slight hitch in his gait with each swing of his right leg.
“That door on the left,” she said. “That’s… that was Dr. Goldman’s office.”
Dr. Dhawan opened the door and paused on the threshold. His gaze skated over the diplomas and certificates hanging on the wall, the clutter of dusty books packed onto the old bookcase, and the framed photos of grandchildren cluttered on the battered wooden desk.
Layla stepped up behind him, close enough to catch a scent of his aftershave—an herbal aroma with hints of sage. The fragrance was warm and earthy, so different from the bold notes of leather and clove from Cal’s expensive cologne mixed in with the cigars he smoked after every sale at the dealership.
“I’ll…uh, call Mrs. Goldman about cleaning out the office,” Dr. Dhawan said, refocusing her attention.
“I’ll take care of it,” Layla volunteered immediately. Hannah had been through so much already. If Layla could take this small burden off her shoulders, she would.
Dr. Dhawan simply nodded. He walked into the room on his stiff gait and moved around the desk. After another pause, he sat down in the chair, frowning when it creaked.
But Dr. Goldman loved the creak, Layla wanted to explain. Said it was the chair’s way of saying hello.
Dr. Dhawan pushed aside the pile of small square sheets from Dr. Goldman’s “Animals Being Derps” daily calendar and turned on the old computer.
“We’ll need to upgrade this,” he muttered.
Layla stood just inside the office, hands clasped in front of her. As Dr. Dhawan impatiently waited for the computer to boot, she discreetly studied the man who would be her new boss.
He was almost shockingly young for a veterinarian, at least one helming his own practice. And good-looking, too, as her eyes had been reminding her over and over. It bothered her, his handsomeness.
Vets were supposed to be mature and genial. They were supposed to have white hair, make bad jokes, and be eternal optimists. Vets were not supposed to have strong, severe faces and trim bodies beneath well-fitted button-up shirts. And they most definitely were not supposed to look at a cat in need and immediately ask about boarding costs.
It all felt so wrong.
I will seek to discover the best in others.
Remembering her daily affirmation, Layla felt chagrined. She’d known Dr. Dhawan for all of 10 minutes and she was already judging him. It wasn’t his fault he was young and attractive.
Layla felt her cheeks heat. And it wasn’t like all vets were required to be whimsical and charming. Just because he possessed a more serious disposition than Dr. Goldman didn’t mean Dr. Dhawan was a bad person.
Give him a chance, Layla told herself. After all, he’d shown genuine interest in Sunny. In fact, his entire disposition had changed the moment he’d spotted the cat. His shoulders had relaxed, the frown easing off his face. He’d even smiled just a little as he’d stroked the cat’s head.
He clearly loves animals, Layla thought as her heart began to soften. It must be hard taking over a clinic. He’s probably stressed and nervous. That must be why he’s acting so cold.
“God, this is taking forever,” Dr. Dhawan grumbled. “I think this computer’s old enough to drive.”
Maybe he just needs a friend. Layla took a breath and put a warm, welcoming smile on her face. Her sister’s boyfriend, Sully, had taught Layla that icebreakers could be a great way to connect with a new person. And she had the perfect one to begin building her friendship with her new boss.
“So, how many pets do you have?” she asked.
Dr. Dhawan glanced up from the computer screen, his honey-colored eyes zeroing in on her. “Pets? I don’t have any pets. Is the computer password protected?”
Layla’s smile vanished. Her jaw almost dropped to the ground like in an old-timey cartoon.
He didn’t have pets?
What kind of veterinarian didn’t have pets?
Her mind immediately supplied the answer.
The bad kind.
Dr. Dhawan cleared his throat impatiently.
“Uh, passwords?” Layla stammered, trying to remember his question. “No. Dr. Goldman never used them. Said he’d just forget them.”
Dr. Dhawan grunted in response, and his eyes flicked to the screen. “Finally.” He moved the mouse. Clicked a few times. “Okay, these are the books, right?”
A vet…with no pets. It felt like the start of a bad limerick.
Dr. Dhawan waved her over. With short, weighted steps, Layla made her way into the office and took up a position behind him so she could see the computer screen. Dr. Dhawan’s shoulders stiffened at her presence.
Layla self-consciously took a step back. Words danced in her mind.
There once was a vet with no pets…
Who seemed to be always upset…
She snorted.
Dr. Dhawan glanced over his shoulder, suspicion in his eyes.
Layla forced a pleasant smile on her face. “You can click that icon and see a list of our most recent transactions.” She pointed over his shoulder. He glowered at her for another moment before turning back to the screen and clicking.
As he bent forward to scrutinize the rows of numbers, Layla noticed several swirling cowlicks in his dark hair. For some reason, the sight of those cowlicks tugged at her heart.
“Okay, yes, this is what I saw before. I don’t get it.” Dr. Dhawan sat back in the chair, a frown line digging between his eyebrows. He jabbed a finger at the screen. “Here’s a list of four spays and neuters under YHAR, but there’s no cost input.”
Oh no. Layla kept her smile plastered to her face. “So, um, YHAR stands for the Yucca Hills Animal Rescue. Dr. Goldman performed all the spays and neuters for any untreated animals that came into the Rescue.”
“Fine, but why is the cost cell blank?” Dr. Dhawan pointed to the empty cell in the spreadsheet again for emphasis. His hands were well-formed, his fingers long and elegant. Perfect hands for a surgeon.
Layla bit her lower lip. “Well, um, Dr. Goldman always performed the procedures for…free.” The last word came out as nearly a whisper.
“Free?” Dr. Dhawan barked. He stared at her like she’d confessed to drinking the blood of infants under a full moon. “Those surgeries cost money. Anesthesia, equipment, time, the surgery suite.” Dr. Dhawan shook his head. “Ludicrous! How did this man make money?”
Layla opened her mouth.
“Never mind,” Dr. Dhawan snapped. His expressive eyebrows reset as he steepled his hands beneath his chin. “Here’s what we’re going to do. From now on, I’ll perform the surgeries for the shelter at cost. And only the spays and neuters. For other specialized treatments, I’ll need to work out pricing with the shelter’s director.”
“At cost?” Layla squeaked.
“That’s more than fair,” Dr. Dhawan answered.
“But… but… that will add up to tens of thousands of dollars a year.” Layla protested. “The shelter can’t afford that.”
“Doesn’t the shelter get donations?” Dr. Dhawan shot back.
“Yes, but—”
“Exactly,” he cut her off. “We can’t be doing surgeries for free. We’re not running a charity here.”
Layla opened her mouth again, but no words came out. Val Tanner, the shelter’s director, had been working for years to raise enough money to turn YHAR into a no-kill shelter. That meant expanding the shelter to keep more animals and adding capacity for animal therapy for the most difficult cases. It also meant massive outreach campaigns to recruit and train more fosters. All those things cost money.
After a wildly successful charity auction earlier in the year, Val had almost reached her financial goal. Dr. Dhawan’s new policy would destroy all that progress.
As Layla struggled to grapple with this new, dark reality, the man’s evil finger jabbed at the computer screen again. “Okay, and what the hell is this? What does FF stand for?”
Layla could barely bring herself to answer. “It stands for Friends and Family. It’s a 15% discount.”
A band of muscle tightened along Dr. Dhawan’s jaw, and she could practically hear him grinding his molars to dust. “This designation is listed on nearly every visit and procedure.”
What else could Layla say but the truth? “We have a lot of friends.”
Dr. Dhawan dragged his hands through his hair, causing the ebony locks to stand in irregular tufts. It might have been cute if his next words weren’t so appalling.
“No wonder this place is falling apart. Dr. Goldman must have been a pauper.”
“He wasn’t a pauper!” Layla’s voice rose in indignation. Her heart raced. Her face flushed. How dare he!
“Dr. Goldman was rich in respect and love,” she insisted. “And you want to know why everyone got the discount? It’s because in this community we’re a family.”
Dr. Dhawan speared her with a stare so cold Layla could almost see icicles in his eyes. “Well, Ms. Sandoval, I hate to break it to you, but we aren’t a family. Not anymore.” His words were clipped, his voice emotionless. “Starting today, we’re a business.”
Like magic, the limerick completed itself in Layla’s head.
There once was a vet with no pets
Who seemed to always be upset
He spoke only in grunts
And to be perfectly blunt
I wish we’d never met!