“It was good to see you, Ev,” Bryson said, because he couldn’t just walk away, no matter how much his brain told him he should.
She looked over at him. Her lips twitching in what, if he squinted and tilted his head to the side, could feasibly be called a smile.
“Good luck on Saturday,” she answered.
Ouch.
He guessed it was too much of a stretch for her to say it was good to see him too.
You did it to yourself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Delightfully chaotic.
That was the best way to describe the atmosphere at Barkingham Palace on any given day. Evie had smiled more in the two hours since she’d entered through the freshly painted doors of the pet daycare’s newest location than she had in the past two days.
Since arriving, she’d witnessed a cocker spaniel and a bichon frise engaged in a fierce tug-of-war over a stuffed Baby Yoda, a long-haired Chihuahua executing a perfect backflip in exchange for a doggy treat, and she was certain her favorite corgi, Franny, had said the wordstore. Or maybe it had beenstove. Either way, the dog had talked.
This was the kind of mayhem she needed in her life—not the kind Cameron had wreaked.
Not to mention what seeing Bryson Mitchell had done to her.
She paused for a moment, giving her brain time to adjust to the cosmic shift that took place whenever she so much as thought his name. The intense reaction that went through her the moment she turned around and saw Bryson standing behind Doc Landry yesterday had been involuntary. And inevitable. How could her bodynotreact to seeing him again after all this time?
Over the years, she had tried to convince herself that she had created an unrealistic memory of him, but that was not the case. At all. Bryson Mitchell was still one of the finest men to ever walk the planet. Smooth, dark brown skin. A smile so bright it made her want to put on sunshades. A cut jawline that fit perfectly in the palm of her hand. Lips that…
Don’t go there!
She would not think about his lips and all the places they could anddidgo.
He still had that tall, svelte physique he’d had as a basket-ball player at LSU, but his chest and shoulders had filled out even more over these past eight years. The way the lightweight sweater had contoured to his pecs left an imprint on her mind, one that refused to leave no matter how many times she tried to blink it away.
Had she opened an umbrella indoors? Walked under a ladder? Encountering the only other man who’d managed to break her heart within hours of having her heart broken by the man she’d been engaged to marry was next-level bad luck. Maybe it was karma for hitting that pothole on Poydras Avenue last month and splashing a woman waiting to cross the street. She’d felt horrible, but that had been the Public Works Department’s fault, not hers.
“Whatever it is, you’d better fix it,” Evie whispered.
She had been lucky to get through that hour-long encounter with Bryson without having the emotional meltdown she’d desperately needed. She didn’t want to chance anything else happening that would send her over the edge.
As she used her penlight to examine the ear canal of a Maltese new to Barkingham Palace, her nerves began to settle. She relished being able to lose herself in the familiarity of doing her job. It was therapeutic. No, it wasnecessary.
If she really was done with the clinic on Maple Street—and she was; there’s no way she could go back—she would have to find a full-time job soon. For one thing, she could use a steady paycheck, but she needed the comfort of being around animals more than she needed the money. Hopefully she could convince her patients from Cameron’s practice to follow her wherever she landed.
He would besopissed. It’s exactly what he deserved.
There was a soft knock a second before the door opened and Ashanti slipped inside the exam room. She was dressed in Barkingham Palace’s signature purple polo shirt and wore her skinny micro-braids down around her shoulders.
“How is Cassiopeia’s ear?” Ashanti asked. “Is it infected?”
“Slightly,” Evie answered. “I have some drops at—” She paused. She no longer had a practice from which she could simply pick up medication. “I’ll prescribe some drops. It won’t take long to clear this up.”
“Gentamicin and clotrimazole?” Ashanti asked.
Evie welcomed the grin that tilted up the corner of her mouth. “You’ve still got it, my friend.”
Ashanti licked her finger and tapped herself on the ass while making a sizzling sound. “At least all of that schooling didn’t go to waste.”
Before her best friend became the owner and operator of the most popular doggy daycare in the Gulf Coast region, she had been a fourth year alongside Evie at LSU’s School of Veterinary Medicine. In fact, it was Ashanti who had convinced Evie to become a vet.
