“When you say it like that, you make me feel like a bridge troll. Can’t a guy go home after a long workday to eat leftovers and watch a baseball game?”
Rachel raised an eyebrow, then laughed. “I mean, look, you’re a handsome man. You probably own a mirror and already know that. I know you just got divorced, but Brooklyn is not a terrible place to be single.”
Caleb did not want to have this conversation. “I’m good, really.”
“Last weekend, my boyfriend and I went to this barbecue restaurant over by the Gowanus. Which is, by the way, like two blocks from another barbecue place. Why are there so many places in Brooklyn that sell smoked meat?”
Caleb laughed. “I don’t know.”
“Well, anyway, we were at this restaurant, and this place is a total meat market. Inallsenses. It’s all open-air, which means it’s probably quite hot in the summer, and there are bars all over the seating areas and then a counter where you order food. Huge crowd this weekend, though. People everywhere. I got hit on by a guy at the bar who was, like, fresh out of college, and I turned him down of course, but I admired his nerve.”
“Is there a moral to this story?”
“I’m just illustrating that there are lots of places like that in Brooklyn to meet people if you wanted to, you know, rebound from your divorce.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Unless you’re already seeing someone?” Rachel raised her eyebrows.
“No,” Caleb said, mostly to see how the lie tasted.
He didn’t like it. Saying he wasn’t seeing anyone felt like a betrayal of Lauren. But why should it? He had just had this discussion with Lauren. They didn’t have any kind of commitment to each other. They had no future together. They were just fooling around. It would end soon, probably.
But if it was really fleeting, he wouldn’t feel so sad by the prospect of it ending.
He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts aside. Doug emerged in a clean pair of bright blue scrubs looking ready to conquer the day. “All right. I’m ready for the sick dogs and cats of Brooklyn now.”
Rachel looked toward the front window. “Well, the rain seems to be slowing down. Hopefully that means patients will come in soon.”
But instead of dogs or cats, the next people who came into the vet clinic were a pair of men in boxy suits. The sleeker one extended a hand toward Caleb, probably because he happened to be standing near the door.
“Hello, I’m Brian Randolph,” the man said, “and this is my assistant Mr. Newton. We own the building across the street.”
“Uh-huh,” said Caleb. He could sense that both Rachel and Doug had tensed.
“I’ve been speaking with the owner ofthisbuilding about a possible sale. She hasn’t said yes yet, but I can play hardball. I just wanted to take a look at the clinic here, since I’d be your new landlord. I understand it is one of the busier ones in the neighborhood.”
Rachel put her hands on her hips. “We’re one of only two vet clinics in all of Brooklyn with emergency hours. The other one is in Midwood.”
“Yes, quite a distance from here,” said Randolph, nodding. “You folks have nothing to worry about, at least not in the short-term. A business like this provides a valuable service to the neighborhood.”
The use of the wordbusinessmade the hair on the back of Caleb’s neck stand up. Even when he’d owned a clinic and had to deal with its finances, he still thought of it as a clinic more than a for-profit business. Caleb and Kara had opted not to pay themselves during the early lean months, for example, because the patients were more important than their bank balance. Luckily, that period of their lives hadn’t lasted long, and they had turned a profit, but Caleb still didn’t quite think of it that way.
Lauren had mentioned this slimeball had taken an interest in the building, but Diane didn’t seem interested in selling. So why was this Randolph guy sniffing around the vet clinic?
“Does that mean in the long-term that you might close the clinic?” Rachel asked. “If you buy the building, I mean.”
“No, not at first.”
Right.
“Let me guess,” said Caleb. “You’re buying up buildings on the block so you can level it and replace everything with some eyesore of a glass tower, so you can have a bank and a Starbucks on the first floor and luxury condos upstairs, thereby stamping out all the personality from the neighborhood.”
Randolph balked. “I’m interested in investing in real estate on this block, yes, but not for nefarious purposes. I’d like to find businesses that best serve this neighborhood. More housing, better restaurants, and yes, a veterinary clinic, are all a part of that. But wouldn’t you all prefer to practice your craft in a state-of-the-art facility? Better technology, newer equipment, nicer facilities? This waiting room is quite dark, don’t you think?”
A woman and a German shepherd came in then. Rachel ran to the door and held up a trash can for the woman’s umbrella. Caleb was grateful to the dog, his next appointment, for getting him out of this conversation. Doug busied himself looking at the schedule on Rachel’s desk.
“We’ve got patients,” said Rachel, gesturing at the dog. “Nice of you to stop by, though.”
