I try to push away the feelings of fear welling up inside of me. We can’t afford to lose any more business. “I hope you’re right.”
“You know I am.”
My gaze travels to the medicine cabinets. “I, uh, think I’m going to spend the rest of the morning working on inventory. It’s been a good six months since we’ve done one.” Not to mention it’s the perfect way to stay distracted. Vicki frowns. “Don’t worry,” I reassure her. “You’re needed up front. I can do this on my own.”
“Did I ever mention you’re my favorite vet to work with?”
“I’m the only one,” I joke half-heartedly. “That reminds me. We’ll need to start posting job openings for a vet tech. We’ve beenwithout one for a couple months now. It was fine when Dr. Conti was still here, but without him, I’ll need another set of hands.”
If I’m being honest, hiring a vet tech is stretching our budget—I wiped out half my life savings when I bought Dylan’s share of the practice—but it’s a necessary evil.
Vicki cocks her head to the side. “Do you want me to post on places like LinkedIn?”
“Please.”
She fist-bumps me. “Just give me the details and I’ll type something up for ya.”
“Thanks.”
Vicki hesitates in the doorway.
“Was there something else?”
“Um, I was wondering if I could play around with updating our website and clinic flyers. Dr. Conti always insisted they were fine, but if you ask me, they’re fugly. They look like something a middle-schooler threw together in Word the night before a project was due. If you redid them and spent some money on marketing?—”
I hold up my hand. “Vicki, you have my blessing to do whatever you want with them.” The flyers she’s talking aboutweredone in Word. Dylan and I may be vets, but neither one of us knew how to use any fancy design programs. We just needed something basic with our names, prices, and services on them.
Even though alarm bells are ringing in my head at the thought of spending money on marketing, if it means bringing in some much-needed clientele, I’m all for it. It’s my first official decision as the new owner.
“I won’t let you down,” Vicki shouts, hugging me tightly, causing the chair I’m sitting in to roll backward and hit the wall. “Oops, sorry.”
Our bodies shake with laughter. It takes us a moment to catch our breath.
I stand up and scoot the chair back into position. “When’s our next appointment?”
“At two. It’s Mr. Paul’s retriever. She’s due for her annual vaccines.”
“Got it. I’ll set a timer on my phone, but if you could let me know when it’s one-thirty, I’d appreciate it.” I tend to get carried away once I start a project.
“You bet.”
With that, I take a clipboard and notebook, walk over to the storage room, and begin going through the medicines we have on hand. If there’s one thing that calms my nerves, it’s organizing things.
“Dr. B?”
“Is it our Spanish friend again?” I call from the break room, waiting eagerly for the Keurig to hurry up and brew a cup of dark roast coffee. It’s late in the day, and I’ll pay for it later when I can’t sleep, but I need that caffeine boost to keep going.
“Uh-huh.”
I rub my temples. I don’t mind this guy calling, but it’s the fifth time. It irks me a little that he hasn’t looked up the answers to his questions on the internet. “You know the drill,” I finally answer. The coffee machine makes a clicking sound. Coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my desk and pick up the phone. “Hola.”
“Hola, Dr. B. You speak Spanish?”
“Un paquito. Just a little. I took it in high school.”
“Ah, that makes sense.” The deep male voice laughs. “You have a good accent.”
“Thanks. How can I help you?” I take a swig of my coffee. Ick. It’s bitter without any creamer or sugar, but it’ll do the job.
