Cabot
"And cut. Perfect. Stand by while we reset cameras. Don’t go far."
An assistant hurries over to secure the heavily pregnant Ragdoll cat Scooter and I have been examining. We're doubling up to shoot some clinic scenes together, and honestly, I'm struggling.
It's been months since my freakout in Scooter's bedroom, but it's still playing on my mind, and I have a sneaking suspicion it is on his, too. He hasn't brought it up, but he doesn't need to. His face is doing all the talking. I can see the questions in his eyes whenever he looks at me a little too long.
But it's like he can tell I don't want to broach the topic again, so he stays quiet. I guess this is what respecting a person's limits looks like.
If only Riff would get the memo. He's on set again and hovering around, pissing everyone off.
"You okay?" Scooter asks from across the exam table. "You seem a little…off."
I glance over at Riff who's pulled the director aside for what looks like a serious talk. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. Had a bad sleep."
His hazel eyes practically screamTalk to mebut he simply nods and chews his lip. "Okay. I've got some natural sleeping pills if you want them."
"Thanks, but I?—"
"My office, now." Riff appears out of nowhere, glowering at me.
"Excuse me?"
"I need to speak with you. Now!"
The last thing I want to do is be alone with Riff. I've managed to avoid it all season, and I don't intend on starting now.
"What's up?"
"Your performance today. This is the third cat you've examined and not one pussy innuendo. We need to talk."
"But the director said not to wander?—"
"Forget about him. He can wait. My office. Right now."
I close my eyes and exhale deeply, my mind racing to come up with a possible out, but let's be honest, my options of getting out of this are severely limited.
"I'm coming, too."
My eyes spring open to find Scooter death staring the fuck out of Riff.
"This doesn't concern you, Burns," Riff brushes him off.
"Oh, really? So you'renotgoing to scheme up more ways to make me look old and weak and stupid? I know what's going on here. Eddie told me everything."
Riff sneers. "Oh, did he now?"
"Yeah. He did." Scooter moves in closer, tilting his chin menacingly at Riff.
Riff shakes his head then turns those beady eyes my way. "You don't know everything, Burns," he says, and the threat in his voice, clearly aimed at me and not at Scooter, sends a cold chill down my spine.
Thankfully, though, Scooter's intervention works, and Riff pisses off, saving me from being alone with the sleazeball.
I wait until half an hour after wrapping up for the day just like I did the first time before quietly making my way down the hallway and tapping on Scooter's door.
"It's open," he calls out.
I let myself in. He's already in bed, several veterinarian magazines spread out around him.
