Diamond in the Ruff (Matchmaking Mamas Book 13) (4 page)

“So you’re like a drive-by Good Samaritan?”

She shrugged off what might have been construed as a compliment. From her point of view, there was really nothing to compliment. She was only doing what anyone else in her place would do—if they had any kind of a conscience, Lily silently qualified.

Out loud, she merely replied, “Yes, something like that.”

“I guess ‘Jonathan’ here was lucky it was your front step he picked to camp out on.” He crouched down to the dog’s level. “Aren’t you, boy?” he asked with affection, stroking the puppy’s head again.

As before, the dog reacted with enthusiasm, driving the top of his head into the vet’s hand as well as leaning in to rub his head against Christopher’s side.

Watching the puppy, Lily thought that the Labrador was trying to meld with the vet.

“Tell you what,” Christopher proposed after giving the puppy a quick examination and rising back up again, “since he seems healthy enough, why don’t we hold off until after this weekend before continuing with this exam? Then, if no one responds to your ‘found’ flyers, you bring Jonathan here back and I’ll start him out on his series of immunizations.”

“Immunizations?” Lily questioned.

By the sound of her voice, it seemed to Christopher that the shapely young woman hadn’t given that idea any thought at all. But then she’d admitted that she’d never had a pet before, so her lack of knowledge wasn’t really that unusual.

“Dogs need to be immunized, just like kids,” he told her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a stray fact fell into place. She recalled having heard that once or twice. “Right,” she murmured.

Christopher smiled in response to her tacit agreement. “And,” he continued, “if you don’t get a call from a frantic owner by this weekend, why don’t we make a date to meet at the park on Sunday, say about eleven o’clock?” he further suggested.

“A date,” she echoed.

Given the way her eyes had widened, the word
date
was not the one he should have used, Christopher realized. It had been carelessly thrown out there on his part.

Very smoothly, Christopher extricated himself from what could potentially be a very sticky situation. “Yes, but I have a feeling that Jonathan might not be comfortable with my advertising the situation, so for simplicity’s sake—and possibly to save Jonathan’s reputation,” he amended with a wink that had her stomach doing an unexpected jackknife dive off the high board—again, “why don’t we just call the meeting a training session?”

Training session.

That
phrase conjured up an image that involved a great deal of work. “You’d do that?” she asked incredulously.

“Call it a training session? Sure.”

“No, I mean actually volunteer to show me how to train Jonathan—provided I still have him,” she qualified.

“I thought that part was clear,” Christopher said with a smile.

But Lily had already moved on to another question. “Why?”

“Why did I think that was clear?” he guessed. “Because I couldn’t say it any more straightforwardly than that.”

She really
did
need to learn how to express herself better. “No, I mean why would you volunteer to show me how to train the dog?”

“Because, from personal experience, I know that living with an untrained dog can be hell—for both the dog and the person. Training the dog is just another name for mutual survival,” he told her.

“But aren’t you busy?” she asked him, feeling guilty about taking the vet away from whatever he had planned for the weekend. Grateful though she was, she wondered if she came across that needy or inept to him.

Christopher thought of the unopened boxes that were throughout his house—and had been for the past three months—waiting to be emptied and their contents put away. He’d moved back into his old home, never having gotten around to selling it after his mother had passed away. Now it only seemed like the natural place to return to. But the boxes were taunting him. Helping this woman find her footing with the overactive puppy gave him a good excuse to procrastinate a little longer.

“No more than the average human being,” he told her.

“If the dog is still with me by the weekend,” she prefaced, “I still can’t pay you for the training session. At least, not all at once. But we could arrange for some sort of a payment schedule,” she suggested, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

“I don’t remember asking to be paid,” Christopher pointed out.

“Then why would you go out of your way like that to help me?” she asked, bewildered.

“Call it earning a long-overdue merit badge.”

She opened her mouth to protest that she wasn’t a charity case, but just then one of his assistants knocked on the door.

“Doctor, your patients are piling up,” she said through the door.

“I’ll be right there,” he told the assistant, then turned to Lily. “I’ll see you at the dog park on Sunday at eleven,” he said. “Oh, and if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call. I can be reached here during the day and on my cell after hours.”

“You take calls after hours?” Lily asked him, surprised.

“I’ve found that pets, like kids, don’t always conveniently get sick between the hours of eight and six,” he told her, opening the door.

“Wait, how much do I owe you for today?” she asked, forgetting that there was a receptionist at the front desk who would most likely be the one taking care of any and all charges for today’s visit.

Christopher started to head out. He could hear his next patient barking impatiently from all the way down the hall. Without breaking stride, he told Lily, “I don’t charge for conversations.”

He was gone before she could protest and remind him that he
had
given Jonathan a cursory examination.

Chapter Three

L
ily was certain she hadn’t heard the man correctly. Granted, Jonathan hadn’t received any shots or had any specimens taken for a lab workup, but the veterinarian
had
spent at least twenty minutes talking to her about the puppy and he
had
looked the Labrador over. In her book, that sort of thing had to constitute an “office visit.”

Didn’t it?

While she was more than willing to do favors for people, Lily had never liked being on the receiving end of a favor because it put her in the position of owing someone something. She was grateful to the vet for taking an interest in the puppy that was temporarily in her care and she was happy that he’d offered to instruct her on how to maintain a peaceful coexistence with the ball of fur while the puppy
was
in her care, but she wasn’t about to accept any of that for free.

It wouldn’t be right.

Taking a breath, Lily extracted her checkbook from her jumbled purse and then braced herself for her next confrontation with the puppy.

Doing her best to sound stern, or at least authoritative, she looked down at Jonathan and said, “We’re going out now, Jonathan. Try not to yank me all over this time, all right?”

If the puppy understood what she was asking, then he chose to ignore it because the minute she opened the door, he all but flew out. Since the rope she had tethered to the Labrador was currently also wrapped around her hand, the puppy, perforce, came to an abrupt, almost comical halt two seconds later. He’d run out of slack.

The puppy gave her what seemed to Lily to be a reproving look—if puppies could look at someone reprovingly.

Maybe she was reading too much into it, Lily told herself.

Still, she felt compelled to tell the puppy, “I asked you not to run.”

Making her way out to the front of the clinic, Lily saw the receptionist, Erika, looking at her. She flushed a little in response. “You probably think I’m crazy, talking to the dog.”

Erika’s dark eyes sparkled. “On the contrary, most pet owners would think you’re crazy if you didn’t. They understand us,” she explained with easy confidence, nodding toward Jonathan. “They just sometimes choose not to listen. In that way, they’re really no different than kids,” Erika added. “Except that pets are probably more loyal in the long run.”

“I’m not planning for a ‘long run,’” Lily told the receptionist. “I’m just minding this puppy until his owner turns up to claim him,” she explained. Placing her checkbook on her side of the counter, she opened it to the next blank check, then took out her pen. All the while, Jonathan was tugging on the rope, trying to separate himself from her. “Okay, how much do I make the check out for?” She flashed a somewhat shy smile at the receptionist. “I warn you, it might be slightly illegible.”

Jonathan was tugging on his makeshift leash, desperately wanting to escape from the clinic—and in all likelihood, from her, as well. Legible writing under those circumstances went out the window.

Erika glanced at the paperwork that had just been sent to her computer monitor a moment ago. She looked up at the woman on the other side of her desk. “Nothing,” she answered.

That couldn’t be right. Could the vet really have been serious about not charging her? “For the visit,” Lily prompted.

“Nothing,” Erika repeated.

“But Dr. Whitman saw the dog,” Lily protested.

Erika looked at the screen again.

“Well, he’s not charging you for seeing the dog,” Erika told her. “But now that I look, I see that he does have one thing written down here,” the receptionist informed her, reading the column marked “special instructions.”

Lily could feel her arm being elongated by the second. For a little guy, the Labrador was uncommonly strong in her opinion. She tugged him back. “What?” she asked the receptionist.

Instead of answering her immediately, Erika said, “Just a minute,” and opened the large side drawer. She started rummaging through it. It took her a minute to locate what she was searching for.

“Dr. Whitman wants me to give you this.”

“This” turned out to be not one thing but two things. One item was a small, bright blue braided collar made to fit the neck of a dog just about the puppy’s size and the other was a matching bright blue braided leash.

Erika placed both on the counter in front of Jonathan’s keeper.

“It’s a collar and leash,” Erika prompted when the woman with Jonathan continued just to look at the two items. “Dr. Whitman has a ‘thing’ against ropes. He’s afraid that a pet might wind up choking itself,” she confided.

Given the Labrador’s propensity for dashing practically in two directions at the same time, getting a sturdy leash that wouldn’t bite into his tender throat did make sense to her, Lily thought. She certainly wasn’t about to refuse to accept the collar and leash.

“Okay, so what do I owe you for the collar and leash?” she asked.

The answer turned out to be the same. “Nothing,” Erika replied.

She’d heard of nonprofit, but this was ridiculous. “They have to cost
something,
” Lily insisted.

All of her life, she’d had to pay, and sometimes pay dearly, for everything she had ever needed or used. Taking something, whether it involved a service that was rendered or an item that was given to her, without the benefit of payment just didn’t seem right to Lily. It also offended her sense of independence.

“Just pennies,” Erika told her. When she looked at the young woman skeptically, the receptionist explained, “Dr. Whitman orders them practically by the crate full. He likes to give them out. Just think of it as a gesture of goodwill,” Erika advised.

What she thought of it as was a gesture of charity placing her in debt, however minor the act seemed to the vet.

Lily tried one last time. “You’re sure I can’t pay you, make a contribution to your needy-dog fund,
something?
”

“I’m sure,” Erika replied. She pointed to her monitor as if to drive the point home. “It says right here, ‘no charge.’” The woman hit two keys and the printer on the stand behind her came to life, spitting out a hard copy of what was on her monitor. She handed what amounted to a nonreceipt to the puppy’s keeper. “See?” Erika asked with a smile.

Lily took the single sheet of paper. Unable to pay for either the office visit or the two items now in her possession, all she could do was say thank you—which she did.

“No problem,” Erika replied. She got up from her desk and came around to the other side, where the Labrador stood fiercely yanking against the rope.

“Why don’t I put the collar on him while you try to hold him in place?” Erika suggested. “This way, he won’t make a break for it.”

“You’re a godsend,” Lily said with a relieved sigh. She’d been wondering just how to manage to exchange the rope for the collar and leash she’d just been given without having the puppy make a mad dash for freedom.

“No, just an animal clinic receptionist who’s been at it for a while,” Erika corrected modestly.

She had the collar on the puppy and the leash connected to it within a couple of minutes. Only at that point did she undo the rope. The next moment, the rope hung limp and useless in Lily’s hand.

Lily was quick to leave it on the desk.

Standing up, Erika told her, “You’re ready to go.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Jonathan made an urgent, insistent beeline for the front door. “I think Jonathan agrees,” Erika said with a laugh. “Here, I’ll hold the door open for you,” she offered, striding quickly over to it.

The instant the door was opened and no longer presented an obstacle, the dog made a break for the outside world and freedom. Lily was nearly thrown off balance as he took her with him.

“Bye!” she called out, tossing the words over her shoulder as she trotted quickly in the dog’s wake, trying hard to keep up and even harder to keep from falling. Jonathan seemed oblivious to any and all attempts to rein him in.

Erika shook her head as she closed the door and went back to her desk. “I give them two weeks. A month, tops,” she murmured to herself.

* * *

The second she and her energetic, furry companion returned to Theresa’s catering shop, Lily found herself surrounded by everyone she worked with. They were all firing questions at her regarding Jonathan’s visit to the new animal hospital. He was the center of attention and appeared to be enjoying himself, barking and licking the hands that were reaching out to pet him.

To her amazement, Lily discovered that of the small band of people who worked for Theresa’s catering company, she was the only one who had never had a pet—if she discounted the two-day period, twenty years ago, during which time she had a live goldfish.

Consequently, while keeping Jonathan out of the kitchen area for practical reasons that in no small way involved the Board of Health’s regulations, the puppy was allowed to roam freely about the rest of the storefront office. As a result, Jonathan was petted, played with, cooed over and fed unsparingly by everyone, including Theresa. He became the company’s mascot in a matter of minutes.

Because their next catering event wasn’t until the next evening, the atmosphere within the shop wasn’t as hectic and tense as it could sometimes get. Alfredo and his crew were still in the planning and preparation stages for the next day’s main menu. Zack Collins, Theresa’s resident bartender, was out purchasing the wines and alcoholic beverages that were to be served at the celebration, and Lily was in the semifinal preparation stage, planning just what desserts to create for the occasion.

Checking on everyone’s progress, Theresa observed that Lily was doing more than just planning. She was also baking a tray of what appeared to be lighter-than-air crème-filled pastries.

“Did you decide to do a dry run?” Theresa asked, coming up to the young woman.

“In a manner of speaking,” Lily replied. Then, because Theresa was more like a mother to her than a boss, Lily paused for a moment and told the woman what was on her mind. “You know that vet you had me bring Jonathan to?”

Theresa’s expression gave nothing away, even as her mind raced around, bracing for a problem or some sort of a hiccup in Maizie’s plan.

“Yes?”

“He wouldn’t let me pay him for the visit,” Lily concluded with a perturbed frown.

“Really?”
Theresa did her best to infuse the single word with surprise and wonder—rather than the triumphant pleasure, laced with hope, she was experiencing.

“Really,” Lily repeated. “I don’t like owing people,” she continued.

“Honey, sometimes you just have to graciously accept things from other people,” Theresa began. But Lily interrupted her.

“I know. That’s why I’m doing this,” she told Theresa, gesturing at the tray she’d just taken out of the oven. “I thought that since he was nice enough to ‘gift’ me with his knowledge by checking out Jonathan, I should return the favor and ‘gift’ him with what I do best.”

By now, Theresa was all but beaming. Maizie had gotten it right again, she couldn’t help thinking.

“Sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Theresa agreed. She glanced at her watch. It was getting to be close to four o’clock. Maizie had mentioned that Christopher closed the doors to the animal clinic at six. She didn’t want Lily to miss encountering the vet. “Since we’re not actively catering anything today, why don’t you take a run back to the animal clinic and bring that vet your pastries while they’re still warm from the oven?” Theresa suggested.

Lily flashed her boss a grateful smile since she was perfectly willing to do just that. But first she had to take care of a more-than-minor detail.

Lily looked around. “Where’s Jonathan?”

“Meghan’s keeping him occupied,” Theresa assured her, referring to one of the servers she had in her permanent employ. In a pinch, the young, resourceful blonde also substituted as a bartender when Zack was otherwise occupied or unavailable. “Why?” She smiled broadly. “Are you worried about him?”

“I just didn’t want to leave the puppy here on his own while I make a run to the vet’s office.” She didn’t want to even
begin
to tally the amount of damage the little puppy could do in a very short amount of time.

“He’s not on his own,” Theresa contradicted. “There are approximately eight sets of eyes on that dog at all times. If anything, he might become paranoid. Go, bring your thank-you pastries to the vet. Sounds as if he might just have earned them,” the older woman speculated.

At the last moment, Lily looked at her hesitantly. “If you don’t mind,” Lily qualified.

“I wouldn’t be pushing you out the door if I minded,” Theresa pointed out. “Now shoo!” she ordered, gesturing the pastry chef out the door.

She was gone before Theresa could finish saying the last word.

* * *

When the bell announced the arrival of yet another patient, Christopher had to consciously refrain from releasing a loud sigh. It wasn’t that he minded seeing patients, because he didn’t. He enjoyed it, even when he was being challenged or confounded by a pet’s condition. Plus, his new practice took all his time, which he didn’t mind. It was paperwork that he hated. Paperwork of any kind was tedious, even though he readily admitted that it needed to be done.

Which was why he had two different receptionists, one in the morning, one in the afternoon, to do the inputting and to keep track of things.

However, on occasion, when one or the other was away for longer than ten minutes, he took over and manned the desk, so to speak.

That was what he was currently doing because Erika had taken a quick run to the local take-out place in order to buy and bring back dinner for the office. He looked up from the keyboard to see just who had entered.

“You’re back,” Christopher said with surprise when he saw Lily coming in. The moment she stepped inside, she filled the waiting area with her unconscious, natural sexiness. Before he knew it, he found himself under her spell. “Is something wrong with Jonathan?” It was the first thing that occurred to him.

And then he noticed that she was carrying a rectangular pink cardboard box. Another animal to examine? No, that couldn’t be it. There were no air holes punched into the box, which would mean, under normal circumstances, that it wasn’t some stray white mouse or rat she was bringing to him.