“I’ll call IT and see if we can block numbers.”
“Thanks. I’ll handle it if we aren’t able to, but I don’t want to have to talk to him if I can avoid it.”
“I understand.” Cindy went back to the reception desk.
Since she had some time to spare, Bree tried to call V.E.T. Adventures again. Same busy tone. The website provided only basic information. She copied the email listed and sent a message introducing herself and requested information on the services they provided. Some of her patients would really enjoy the things this company offered. Many of them reminisced about their time in the service during their appointments. They missed the brotherhood or sisterhood of the military. If this company could give them a small sense of that again, she’d send them all the business they could handle. Hell, she’d even make a donation.
She tried to call one more time with the same results. What the hell, it was on the way home - she could just drive by this afternoon after her last appointment.
Bree parked in front of a nondescript shopping mall where V.E.T. Adventures occupied the corner storefront. She opened the glass door and entered the small reception area. It looked like the waiting room of a dentist’s office.
An older woman with a small bouffant hairstyle looked up from her computer. “Hi, welcome to Vet Adventures. How can I help you?” she asked in a thick, North Carolinian twang.
“Um, hi. I’m Brianna Marks. I’m a physical therapist at the Wounded Warrior Unit at Fort Bragg. One of my patients mentioned this place and I was hoping to get more information, maybe set up some kind of referral system for some of the vets I work with.”
“Oh honey, that’s wonderful. Jason, the owner, is on a conference call right now and he has an appointment lined up right after that. Let me pull up his schedule and see when he’s available.”
“That would be great, thank you.” Bree pulled out a business card and gave it to the woman. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Oh lordy! Where are my manners? I’m Carol. I do all the scheduling and phone answering around here.” She extended a well-manicured hand.
Bree smiled at Carol’s Old South charm and shook her hand.
“Oh, speaking of answering phones, I think yours might be off the hook. I tried to call a couple of times, but got that weird busy signal.”
Carol glanced at the phone on her desk and pushed on the handset. “Well, darn it. How long has it been like that? No wonder it’s been so quiet today. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Alright, let me see… What’s your schedule like?”
Grabbing her phone from her purse, Bree pulled up her calendar app. “I have some time blocked off Tuesday morning.”
“Is nine o’clock good?”
“That works.” Bree added the information to her calendar then put her phone in her back pocket.
“Thank you so much for your help. It was lovely meeting you.”
“You too, honey. I’ll give Jason your information as soon as I can pin him down.”
“Have a good afternoon.”
Bree’s hand was on the door when the office to her left opened. She glanced over as Jase walked out of the office, his attention on the papers he was shuffling in his hands.
“Ms. Carol, can you…” Jase trailed off when he looked up and caught sight of Bree standing at the door.
Shit. Jase. Jason. Jase. Holy hell.
Bree stared wide-eyed as he handed Carol the papers in his hand and marched toward her. Too late, she took a step back. “Not this time,” he said. Jase bent, put his shoulder to her stomach and lifted her up in a fireman’s carry. He turned and stalked back to his office.
“Jason Michael Larken! Your mother raised you better than that!” Carol hollered. Bree raised her head to see Carol come around her desk, stand with her hands fisted on her hips, and stamp her foot. If she wasn’t in shock from being thrown over his shoulder and carried off like some caveman’s conquest, Bree might have laughed at the sight of the genteel, southern lady stamping her foot.
Jase slammed the door to his office and turned and hefted Bree off his shoulder just enough to get an arm under her ass and brace her against the wall. His other hand went to the nape of her neck where he forcefully grabbed a handful of hair.
Bree didn’t know whether to be scared or turned on – maybe a little of both. Okay, maybe a lot of both. She wiggled her hips, trying to get her feet on the ground.
“Let me down,” she demanded.
