by Jamie Knight
White & White, while undoubtedly successful, was also unassuming. Housed in a red brick heritage building, you could see the mountain range of the office blocks that made up the city’s skyline. But the smaller building felt less stuffy and formal than some of the stiff, gray towers, and I enjoyed it.
The smells from the on-site café reached out like a siren song, tempting me away from the task at hand, but I forced myself to focus.
Settling in my scandalously comfortable Swedish-designed office chair, I booted up the computer, a nearly ancient desktop model I was pretty sure had gone extinct around the same time as dial-up internet. Fortunately my research skills were still 21st century, and I was elbow deep in the legal archives before the screen got warm.
Suddenly, there was a tapping on my door. My train of thought thoroughly derailed, I got up and huffed over to the locked office door. When I had it open, however, I was glad I had bitten down the string of profanity I had felt bubbling up at the back of my mind.
“Morning, Sam,” Jim said.
“Morning, Boss,” I said, attempting at professionalism.
Although I did feel nerves creeping up my spine, thinking about what had happened the last time Jim had popped in unexpectedly.
“I have a favor to ask, may I come in?”
“Of course!” I said, nearly jumping out of the way.
“Thanks.”
It was only when he was well into the office that I noticed the odd, vented, square duffel bag thing hanging from his shoulder.
“Is that a kennel?” I asked.
“Yeah, kind of, it’s a sort of hybrid thing,” Jim said, setting the bag down by my desk.
I suddenly had a very good idea as to the nature of the request he was about to make and my heart sank ever so slightly.
The dog, Benny, was a Pitbull pup. Their son, James, had brought home the adorable rascal he’d found and fallen in love with, but Jim’s wife Monica was having none of it. So Jim needed Benny out of his house while he tried to bring Monica around.
I had a yard, so I figured “What the Hell?”
The only problem was, that had been a week ago, and the pup, cute as he could be, was getting to be a handful. I kept him outside, but he was digging holes everywhere and more than once, his howling had woken me in the middle of the night.
“How’s Benny doing?” Jim asked the next Monday.
“Oh, he’s great,” I’d lied.
“Oh, okay,” Jim said, his relief palpable, “I’m still working on Monica, but it’s good to know he’s in good hands.”
I felt like a real asshole, and the guilt of Jim’s words was going to fucking haunt me. I kept trying to ignore it throughout my day, and up until the moment when I got home.
I dropped my briefcase onto its spot near the door and went out to check on Benny. Immediately I knew that something was wrong. The dog’s eyes were watery, his chest sounded congested, and his usually eager greeting was lethargic and subdued. I didn’t even know that dogs could get colds, but it seemed like that was what was going on with the little guy. Apparently spending a week outside will do that.
Even as late as it was when I got there, the vet clinic was surprisingly crowded that afternoon, barking and meowing and whining galore. Benny mostly just sat in his kennel sneezing, in that almost cute way that puppies have. I caught myself almost being concerned about him.
“Sam Nigel?”
I looked up at the sound of my name, and laid eyes on the absolute sexiest woman I have ever seen standing before me. Physically ideal in every way, I actually found it difficult to find the right thing to say. Her attractiveness was in no way mitigated by the fact that she was wearing unflattering vet scrubs in a hideous shade of green.
“Yes,” I said finally, realizing I’d paused for a long time.
It wasn’t the clever line I wanted, but it was the only thing I could manage to scrape out of my tongue-tied mouth.
Keeping Benny suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
Chapter Two
Ronda
I could hardly speak. Which was saying something, considering patient interaction was basically scripted out. There were only so many things that could be said about a sick animal, which tended to be the main focus of every conversation. But I certainly wasn’t expecting someone like him to come in that day.
Usually my days consisted of families with pets. Crying kids and fretting cat moms were one thing. What confronted me that Friday was something else entirely. A beautifully dressed, clearly rich, super hot guy with an adorable puppy and no partner or kids in sight.
Although it was possible that the lack of wedding ring was why he was here. I see puppies that have eaten wedding rings at least once a month or so.
I couldn’t get over the way he was looking at me. It was a look I heard about, but never noticed being directed my way. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn he was undressing me with his eyes.
My face flamed and I cleared my throat. “So, what’s going on with this little guy?” I asked, getting down to see Benny in his kennel.
I could almost feel Sam’s gaze on my body.
“I think he has a cold,” Sam said, distantly.
“Okay, let’s get him into an exam room, yeah?” I asked, turning and leading Sam down the hall.
“Right,” Sam said, picking up the kennel and following me into the back, staying a few paces behind me all the way.
Getting Benny out of the kennel, Sam set him down on the exam table and moved back near the door as a I moved around the table examining the pup. Not even thinking before I did it, bent over, the material of the scrubs going quite tight across my body and giving him a generous view of my ass.
I straightened quickly, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw his gaze still glued to my rear.
I could feel the warmth rise up on my cheeks and my pulse quickened. I felt this crazy mixture of embarrassed and flattered at the same time. I never really thought I was anything special. A notion reinforced by the fact I was 30 and still a virgin.
I mean, I’d fooled around a little in high school, but I’d never crossed that bridge. After that, it had before all about coming a vet. The schooling had been incredibly rigorous, and since then I had been too busy at work to really date, let alone fuck.
After further inspection, I was pretty confident in agreeing that Sam was pretty much right. Stuff like this was extremely common in puppies his age who didn’t have full immune systems yet.
“Well, it does look like a cold,” I informed Sam, “And unfortunately, just like with humans, there isn’t too much you can do other than the antibiotics we’re going to send you home with. Other than that, all you can do is try and alleviate the symptoms and keep him comfy. Just keep him quiet and warm with plenty of water until it passes. You can also put a humidifier nearby to help him breathe a little better.”
“Do you have a dog?” Sam asked, taking me by surprise.
“Um, yeah, I have a pittie too, actually,” I blurted.
“Well, Benny obviously isn’t up to it right now, but when he’s feeling a bit better, we could take them to the dog park, if you live nearby,” Sam said.
“Yes,” I blurted, too eagerly.
“Wait, is that a “yes,” you’d like to go, or “yes,” you live nearby?” he asked with a laugh.
“Both,” I replied with a laugh of my own.
It was an interesting suggestion, meeting at the dog park. It wasn’t exactly ideal for a date. But maybe I was jumping the gun and this wasn’t meant to be a date. Though the way he was looking at me made it seem pretty likely he was curious about me, too, and wanted to get to know me better. It was already clear that I had passed the eye-ball test.
There were only two problems. I didn’t really live anywhere near the dog park, though there was also a good reason for this, and it was problem number two: I didn’t actually own a dog. It seemed a bit weird for a vet to live without pets, but I paid so much attention to o
ther people’s animals that I felt like I wouldn’t have the time to properly look after an animal of my own.
On the upside, though, I also knew a lot of people who did have dogs. Including a few with pitbulls. I went though the list in my head as I walked home from the clinic that evening, and I felt like a moron when the obvious answer hit me.
I almost ran up the front stairs to the front door of Sharon’s house. Sharon lived across the street from me and we had been friends since I moved in, more or less at her insistence. I couldn’t tell if she was really friendly, or really lonely, but we had hit it off either way.
“Ronda, come in, come in!” Sharon said, heading back into the house and leaving the door wide open, an invitation to come inside.
“Would ye like some tea?” Sharon asked, her Scottish brogue sounding thicker than usual.
I nodded and watched her as she retreated into the kitchen. She’s a lovely young woman, and when we met four years before, she had been working as a publicist. But she’d lost her job in a downsizing around the time I had first started up the clinic, and she took it hard.
She had thrown most of her time and energy into her work and didn’t really seem to know what to do when she wasn’t doing that anymore. It was actually my idea that she get a puppy. Give her something to focus on. She coupled this with a newfound baking hobby, and since then, her slender frame has developed some curves to it, and they flatter her.
“Milk or sugar? Or honey?” she called, and I heard the clink of cups as she rummaged around.
“Just milk, please,” I called back.
Baking had ended up turning into more than a hobby for her. She became passionate about it and opened a little café that served coffee, tea, and her pastries, and now she just glowed from the inside out.
The kettle started to scream and Sharon poured out two cups of tea with her homemade scones, bringing them over to the table where I waited. She poured a liberal splash of milk into each mug and dosed her own with a drizzle of honey.
“So, what’s on yer mind?” Sharon asked, putting the tea cup down in front of me.
“What makes you think - ”
“Come on, hen. It’s me yer talkin’ to.”
“Right, I was going to ask about Warren.”
As though on cue, Sharon’s four year old Pitbull lumbered over and plunked his huge head down on my lap waiting for pats. A ritual started back when he was still a puppy and the weight of his head didn’t bruise my thighs. I gave him several pats before he was satisfied, dropping down and curling up next to me on the floor. His tail thudded happily on the floor.
“What about him?” Sharon asked, taking her first sip of tea.
“I was wondering if I could borrow him and take him to the dog park on Saturday.”
“Um, any particular reason why?”
“I met a hot guy with a pit pup and I’m trying to impress him,” I said sheepishly, knowing there was no point in trying to lie.
“How hot?” Sharon asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
I sighed. “So, so hot.”
“Well, what kind of friend would I be to leave ye hangin’,” Sharon said, laughing, “Of course ye can take him. Saves me havin’ to lug the great beast down there anyway.”
“You’re my hero,” I told her, “Thank you!”
“Ye haven’t tried to walk him,” she retorted with a laugh, “Don’t thank me yet!”
Chapter Three
Ronda
There were several things to think about before our meet up. My outfit, for example. After much deliberation and over a dozen changes, I settled on blue summer dress and a pair of white Doc Martens I hadn’t worn since college but somehow miraculously still fit. Making sure to eat before I left, I went over to Sharon’s place.
It took more than one attempt to rouse Sharon from her Saturday morning hibernation. Warren usually spent the better part of the night on the couch, at least going by the sagging cushions covered in a thin layer of his wiry hairs. It made me wonder if Sharon snored or something.
“Where’s the bloody fire?” Sharon grumbled from the other side of the door.
“Sorry to rouse you out of hibernation,” I laughed, “But I need your dog.”
“Oh, aye, yes, I forgot, give me a minute,” Sharon said, disappearing back into the house.
A minute later she came back with a similarly groggy looking Warren, already on a leash.
“Have fun,” Sharon said with a wink.
“Hopefully,” I said.
And with that, I was off to try and seduce the hot guy with the adorable puppy.
I knew approximately where the dog park was, I had driven past it enough times and even taken some of the clients’ dogs there when they were staying at the clinic overnight, usually after surgery. I was surprised by how full the parking lot was.
Apparently there were a lot of pets in L.A., despite not too many of the rental properties allowing them. Then again, it was in a pretty high end neighbourhood populated mostly by the rich and smug. Not really the types to let others tell them what to do.
Unloading Warren from the back seat, we headed towards the park gates. Despite Sharon’s insistence that he was a handful, Warren was behaving like an absolute angel for me.
I was so anxious, by the time I got the chance to look at my watch, I realized that I was half an hour early. Finding an available bench, I took a seat to wait, Warren taking three turns before laying down beside me as was his habit.
One of the advantages of having an older dog for my decoy, particularly one who already knew me, was that he was already very well trained and somewhat responsive to me. Both things that would come in handy when trying to convince Sam that Warren was my dog.
Five minutes to the appointed time, I looked in the direction of a familiar bark. I immediately saw little Benny straining on his leash trying to get to me and smiled. Sam was trying his darnedest to keep him under control, but he had clearly underestimated how strong a puppy could be. Particularly a determined, large-breed puppy. Taking pity on him, I went over to meet them, relieving the stress on Sam’s leash arm.
“Hi,” I greeted him and coaxed Warren into a sitting position beside me.
“Hey,” he said, instinctively scooping the pup into his arms and cradling him protectively.
The most Warren was likely to do was sniff the pup, but Sam couldn’t know that. And I had to admit, the sight of him with the puppy in his arms was pretty great.
“Will he get that big?” Sam asked with wide eyes, looking at Warren and then to Benny.
“Most likely, yeah. Warren is a bit spoiled, to be honest.”
“You named your pit Warren?” Sam asked.
“Well, yeah, what were you expecting?”
“Killer, Chaos, the Black Death?” Sam offered.
“He’s a dog, not an MMA fighter,” I said, laughing at his obviously stereotyped view of pitbulls.
“Point,” Sam said, clearly embarrassed.
“You can put him down,” I said.
Cautiously, Sam set him down and the pup beelined for Warren. The two sniffed each other eagerly. When they’d finally had their fill, we set off for a walk in the park, both of them sniffing everything like they had never seen it before.
“Warren’s just a giant puppy, isn’t he?” Sam asked with a laugh.
“He sure is,” I agreed.
“How long have you had him?” Sam asked, managing to keep his gaze on my eyes, despite my efforts at showing a little skin.
“Four years,” I replied, almost too quickly.
“Wow, he seems really well trained,” Sam said.
“Oh, he is. It took a while, but that’s because he’s so smart. Which sounds counterintuitive, I know. But smarter dogs usually know exactly what you’re trying to get them to do, and they’ll decide whether or not they feel like doing it at that particular moment. And with these guys, they get so strong that if they don’t want to do something, it’s pretty hard to make them,�
� As if punctuating my words, Warren suddenly gave chase to a squirrel and nearly yanked me off my feet.
Sam caught me and stopped me from falling, and just the brush of his hands on my bare arm sent a bloom of heat through me. I quickly straightened up, embarrassed. Warren turned to me and looked at me with those huge brown eyes, his tail wagging happily. “See what I mean? Not only stubborn to the point of rebellion, but it’s impossible to get mad at them because they are so darn cute!”
It occurred to me that Warren had probably been helped me, slowing my excited tirade, and my cheeks grew warmer than ever. I had always gotten along better with animals than other humans, and as such, never got very good at reading social cues or what was thought to be ‘appropriate’ by the self-appointed arbiters of society. Probably why I was such a good vet, but a bad date.
“That sounds about right,” Sam agreed, smiling.
“So, Benny looks like he bounced back pretty quickly,” I said, trying to salvage some semblance of dignity.
Before he could respond, Sam’s attention was caught by a man with a with a small boy who seemed to be coming our way. To my surprise, a fleeting expression of alarm passed over Sam’s face.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“A friend of mine. Another lawyer, he talks far too much,” Sam said.
The man was trying to get Sam’s attention, but Sam tried to ignore him for as long as he could. Finally, though, he sighed.
“I have to go, but I would like to see you again later,” he said, gently taking my hand.
“I-I’m free tonight. Will Benny be okay by himself?” I stammered.
“He’ll be fine,” Sam said confidently, a grin spreading across his face, “I’ll see you tonight.”
Chapter Four
