The assistant, who had said nothing while inside, looked visibly uncomfortable in the presence of a wet dog. He stepped toward the door, clearly intending to flee, and the German shepherd chose that moment to shake the water out of his fur. The Newton guy was covered in little droplets and looked ready to crawl out of his skin.
“Yes, let’s go,” Newton said to Randolph.
“Indeed.” Randolph took one last look around, clearly sizing the place up. “Hopefully I’ve given you something to think about. The current owner of this building can’t afford to pay for many upgrades, but I can.” Then they left.
Rachel told the woman with the German shepherd to take the dog to Exam 1. When they had passed through the door, Rachel shivered in an exaggerated way. “Ugh, that guy is skeevy. Gave me the willies.”
“Olivia said there was a real estate developer sniffing around the building,” said Doug. “Guess that was him.”
“You don’t think Diane would sell, do you?” asked Rachel.
Doug shrugged. “I don’t, but a huge pile of money will make people act out of character. And that looks like a guy who’s got a vault full of cash that he swims in like Scrooge McDuck.”
“Diane is eccentric, but I’d much prefer her as a landlord than that guy. Good gravy.” Rachel shook her head. “And what was all that about better facilities? Is he trying to get us to talk Diane into selling? Or to moving to some other fancier building so he can tear this one down? What is his end game?”
“Unclear,” said Doug. “He’s like a cartoon villain.”
“I like this job,” Caleb said before he thought about it too much. Rachel and Doug both turned toward him with questioning looks on their faces. He sighed and said, “Just saying. I like working here. I’d like to keep working here. It would be a real shame if some dickhead developer bought the building and tore it down.”
“Amen,” said Doug.
“I’d better go see to…” Caleb grabbed the chart from the desk. “Captain von Trapp.”
Doug sang, “The hills are alive with the sound of barking…”
Caleb laughed and walked back to the exam room.
Chapter 20
Lauren stood in a crowded hotel ballroom with theater seating, looking for an empty seat. She’d come to a symposium about new science regarding feline behavior because Diane encouraged this kind of professional development. It was being held at a hotel in Midtown. Since moving to Brooklyn, Lauren spent far less time in this high-traffic tourist area around Times Square, mostly by design. She was already stressed from having to push through the slow-moving crowds of tourist families gawking at the buildings and lights around them, worried she’d be late because people needed to walk five-abreast on the sidewalk.
When Lauren had first seen the website for the symposium, she’d thought learning more about how cats behaved might better inform some of the decisions she made for how the café was run, but now that she was here, she felt outclassed by the audience. Nearly everyone around her hadDr.orDVMon their badges, and she was here as just the manager of a cat café.
She hadn’t felt this silly or out of place in a while.
“There’s an empty seat over there,” said a voice to her right.
She turned and saw a handsome man—a veterinarian named Michael, according to his name badge—and smiled. “Thanks.”
“Here, come with me.”
So Lauren followed Michael to a pair of empty seats at the end of one row about eight rows back from the dais.
“Thank you for helping me find a seat. I was a little overwhelmed.”
“No problem. I’m Mike, by the way. I work at a vet clinic uptown.”
“Oh. Nice to meet you. I’m Lauren.” She deliberately withheld her credentials, because he would likely mock her, the way Caleb had when they’d first met.
Caleb had some grudging respect for her work now and he’d probably be impressed she was attending this symposium. But she didn’t want to push it too far with this stranger.
“Did you know,” said Michael, pointing to the program in his hand, “that in ancient Greece, a symposium was an event at which a bunch of men sat around drinking and talking. I guess we’ve evolved if a woman as pretty as you is allowed in.”
Lauren didn’t know what to do with that. He’d found her a seat; she didn’t owe him more than her thanks. So now he was hitting on her? Okay. She smiled, hoping the lecture would start soon. “I didn’t know that,” she said. “About the wordsymposium, I mean.”
“I was a classics major in college for a semester before I decided to switch to biology so I could find a job after I graduated that didn’t involve asking if you want fries with that.”
“So not only did you switch majors, but you did many years of extra schooling to get that job?”
