Catlike, definitely.
It’s a look, for sure.
“She saidno,” she whines, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, her voice is as grating as her sour pout. “God, Brady. Why can’t you ever take no for an answer?”
Brady, huh?
It feels oddly good to put a name to his ridiculously handsome face.
“Because I want him checked out,” Brady says firmly, flashing her a pointed look.
“Yeah, but how is this dogourproblem?” She folds her arms, tapping the toe of her designer boot on the floor. “Just drop him off with animal control and be done with it.”
Yep, it’s not just the face.
Raging bitch confirmed.
I have to bite the tip of my tongue and choke down my disgust.
Customer faceon.
Even when the customer has a lump of coal instead of a beating heart.
Even when Brady isn’t much better, barging in after hours and demanding we do something. But at least his heart’s in the right place.
If I could throw this woman out on her butt, I would, but I can’t do that to the little guy squirming in Brady’s arms, and I can’t give Dr. Ezzie a lawsuit either.
One of these days, my soft spot for animals will get me into trouble. But that’s the whole mission at Pawsome Hearts—healthy paws and claws first and always.
“Hold on, I’ll go ask my boss,” I say, leading them to the closest exam room. “If you guys can just wait here for a second, I’ll be right back.”
The blonde rolls her eyes and immediately sinks into the single available seat, making a face like its plastic coating feels offensive to her skin. Her boyfriend sets the dog down on the table, smoothing a hand gently over its big ears.
Hisears, I correct myself.
The dog’s coat looks a little matted, but his butt wiggles as his tail wags and he licks Brady’s fingers. For some reason, I linger on the scene.
His hands are big. Easy to notice from the way they span the corgi’s back and neck, but they’re affectionate too. Soft and soothing.
The dog clearly loves the attention, leaning into his palm.
I’m oddly transfixed.
Look, it’s not like I’m doubting he can be nice to animals. Most people are—I like to think of it as a baseline morality test.
Either you’re kind to the innocent beings we share the planet with, or you’re a shitty person.
Easy.
But that also doesn’t mean you’re an angel if you show some basic human decency. It just means you’re probably not a demon.
Brady gives me another high-voltage smile.
“Thank you. I appreciate it,” he says, like he’s expecting me to curtsy.
Bitchface rolls her eyes to the ceiling again and huffs loudly.
Obviously I’m nothing but another nuisance in her oh-so-rough existence.
