“Holly, this is Nettie. Nettie, baby. This is Holly.”
Holly didn’t hold out her hand, so Nettie took the initiative and held out hers.
Holly looked at it for a long second before taking it, giving a very limp shake that lasted seconds at most.
Holly pulled back and wiped her hand on her jeans.
Nettie’s lips twitched.
“It’s nice to meet you, Holly,” Nettie offered.
I couldn’t tell how this was going to go with Holly and Nettie.
“Uh, sure.” Holly nodded. “I see that your time blindness is at play again.”
My brows rose. “I don’t have what you refer to as time blindness. I have what you call a business that I own. One where I make my own hours.” I lifted my brows at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the one that has patients this morning? Ones that are waiting in their cars like you asked them to?”
That was another thing I’d disliked when it came to Holly.
She didn’t want the patients in the waiting room.
Apparently it caused them ‘distress.’
Whatever. I didn’t care. But her patients’ parents were usually the younger ones that didn’t care that Holly was barely out of vet school. They were of the same generation and barely liked leaving the house, let alone communicating with the public.
It was somewhat of a relief not to have to deal with some of the younger patients that were just as stilted and awkward as Holly was.
They could have awkward, stilted conversations together.
Though, I drew the line at virtual visits.
You couldn’t diagnose a problem over a webcam, no matter how much Holly tried to convince me you could.
“Is that all?” Holly asked, eyes narrowed.
I dismissed her with a flick of my hand, and Nettie waited until she was back in the back room before she said, “She’s…fun.”
I snorted. “Fun’s an understatement.”
Nine
I can’t marry a man that can’t fight. I need to be able to say ‘my man will fuck you up’ with confidence.
—Nettie to Boone
Nettie
I was currently petting a tiny Pomeranian puppy on the nose and thinking I could finally get a dog if I had a permanent home—and someone to take care of him when I had to leave for three days—when I rounded the corner and found Gena packing up her bags.
“Oh, before you go.” I hurried toward her. “Can you tell me Boone’s schedule for the next week? I need to make a doctor’s appointment for him, and I want to make sure he’s free.”
“Is he sick?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “But the man never has yearly checkups, and he only gets one when I nag him. I think it’s time.”
She smiled and logged back into her computer.
“Here,” she said. “When you’re done, just close it down.”
