“We’re funded through a city grant and donations from the public. You can sponsor a sick animal, if you’re interested.” Wily, clever coordinator. That’s why she has the job.
Tristan is undeterred, though. “I’d be happy to foster one in my home and pay for all necessary treatments. I have extensive experience with caregiving for cats with special needs.”
He’s not lying. He’s done wonders for Impy. Her condition is very stable now, even though it’s taken a lot of effort on his partto get her to that point. But there’s something so uncomfortable and pushy about what he’s doing.
Even the adoption coordinator senses it, because she’s not budging. “These animals need round-the-clock care, or at least daily vet visits. They’re not suitable as pets. I can show you—”
“No!” he barks. Then his voice sweetens, and I can tell he’s using his glamour on her because the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Frequent veterinary care is part of the plan. I have a close relationship with Dr. Caroline Stanley, in fact. I’d be happy to set up standing daily appointments with her in advance if that would give the shelter the confidence to let me adopt your sickest cat.”
Oh, god. I feel faint. I lean against the wall, forcing myself to breathe. He’s doing this so that I have to spend time with him. Impy isn’t sick enough anymore, so he needs a new cat whose health is worse.
“Let me talk to the director and see what I can do,” the coordinator murmurs breathily. His demon magic has finally worked on her.
Maybe it has also worked on me, because I’m having a hard time seeing what’s wrong with Tristan’s methods. He’s only doing good things. He’s helping the shelter out financially by taking on the burden of care. He’s going to give the sick cat the best chance at health because of all of the equipment and expertise he’s acquired by owning Impy. And he’s supporting my clinic with his dedication to providing the best vet care possible to his pets. He’s every vet’s dream as a client, just like he’d be every woman’s dream as a partner.
But there’s something wrong about it, too. I just wish I had the words to explain why. I know if I confront him, he’ll talk his way out of it like he always does, so instead I go the back way to the director’s office. Through the glass door, I can see the adoption coordinator in there, pleading Tristan’s case.
I can’t help it. I poke my head in. “I’m leaving for the day. Go ahead and call me if there any problems with the colony overnight, but they all look pretty good.”
“Thanks so much, Cari.” The director lifts his hand to wave goodbye, then hesitates, glancing at the coordinator. “Actually, your name just came up. There’s a man here who wants to adopt, and he says you’re his regular vet?”
I nod and take a deep breath. I have to do the right thing here. “Tristan Vance. I heard him in the hall. He’s… interested in me. I believe he’s trying to have more contact with me by adopting an unhealthy cat. He’s a good pet owner. Very dedicated and can afford the veterinary care. But I’m afraid I won’t be able to treat his animals anymore. Let him know that, and if he still wants to adopt, I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t.”
The director blinks at me. “I’ve never dealt with a situation like this.”
“I know. It’s weird.” I shrug, suddenly exhausted and terribly, horribly lonely. I hate this. I hate that I’m now second-guessing every conversation I’ve ever had. Hasanyonein my life been honest with me? I just want someone to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay.
Truthfully, there’s only one pair of arms that will do. The ones that tried to warn me about Tristan. That tried to protect me from his manipulation.
“Appreciate your help,” the director says, and the coordinator, who seems to be coming to her senses as Tristan’s glamour wears off, echoes his thanks.
“See you next time, ” I say, and head over to the play yard to pick up Radar. He’s pretty worn out, too, so I carry him home, cuddling him close, breathing in the familiar smell of his head as I walk.
What would I do without this little guy? I don’t have to guess what he feels. He never pretends or lies. I don’t think I’ll ever getanother dog when he’s gone. It’s like my heart has grown into a particular shape and only certain things can fit in it.
My work.
Radar.
Zed.
When I get back to my cottage, there’s a bouquet of sunflowers on the steps. I pick them up, smiling, knowing exactly who they’re from. Zed’s so thoughtful. I’m not surprised he remembers my favorite flower. I almost skip inside to arrange them, then quickly text him.
Cari
We need to talk.
He shoots back a reply immediately.
Zed
I’m so glad you messaged. I owe you a huge apology,
Cari
No, I owe you one. You were right about Tristan. I should have listened to you. Can you come over?
Zed
