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“Let’s go, Sara. I’m waiting on you.” Ben huffs like it was obvious he wanted me to come, too, and I was deliberately holding him back from leaving. I knew I should’ve left his lunch box out. I was trying to be nice, and look where it got me.
One step forward, two steps back. Grabbing my purse, I follow behind Ben as we walk out of the clinic. “Can you drive? I don’t know where they live.”
Surprised by his question, I nod my head, unlocking my car when we get close. This is going to be an interesting afternoon.
“When we arrive, wait for my instructions. I would prefer you not get in my way. In all honesty, I could probably handle this on my own, but it’s always smart to have an extra set of hands.”
I grit my teeth to keep from saying something snarky in response. Obviously, he’s going to lead. He’s the vet; what else would he be doing, knitting?
“Yes, sir.” Okay, still snarky, but I couldn’t help it. I did stop myself from saluting.
Ben’s head whips around to look at me, his eyebrows raised as if he can’t believe what I said. There’s something else in his eyes that I can’t read. A gleam I can’t place.
I raise my own eyebrow back at him in defiance. He’s not going to get away with bossing me around like that. He can be respectful about it, or I’ll give him sass.
I think Nat would be proud.
10
BEN
Huffing out a tired breath, I pull my glasses off my face and chuck them onto my desk. Running my hands through my hair, I stand, stretching out the tightness in my back. My brain feels like mush after three hours of staring at my computer screen, trying to make sense of Dad’s notes. Completing the end-of-month paperwork should not be this complicated. None of his files are organized in any way that makes sense. He has his budget spreadsheets in the same folder as his employee information, for Christ’s sake.
I’ve been trying to fix the mess he left me for the past two days straight. The German shepherd’s birth a couple of days ago put me way behind, so now, I’m having to stay late to get all of this shit done before the end of the month.
I guess the good news is it’s kept my mind off the shit with Rebecca. I haven’t had a moment to stew about how she hasn’t tried to contact me since I left her apartment. I should be grateful not to have to deal with her, but it stings a bit that, after three years, she doesn’t seem to be affected by our breakup.
To be fair, I’m not sure how affected I am about it either. Shouldn’t I be sad? Shouldn’t there be more emotion in me than anger? And in all honesty, I think I’m madder at myself than I am her. I spent three years with someone who apparently cared very little about me. and I never fucking noticed.Idiot.
A noise outside my office makes me freeze. I’ve been the only one here since we closed, so whoever is here likely isn’t supposed to be.
I open the door of my office, stepping into the hallway. The noise grows as I walk toward the back of the clinic. I’m fully prepared to scare the shit out of whoever is here. This seriously isn’t what I needed tonight. I still have shit to do. I don’t have time to be scaring some assclown thinking they can steal drugs from an animal clinic.
When I walk around the corner, I see shit all over the floor and the cabinets wide open. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Packages go flying in the air as the person startles.
“Jesus Christ!” Sara peeks around the frame of the closet door. “Was that absolutely necessary?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Stealing.”
“Oh, sure. I can’t live without IV tubes, Ace bandages, or syringes.” She rolls her eyes so hard I think they may fall out of her head. Her attitude only further pisses me off. Why does she have to be so mouthy?
“It’s eight-thirty. Why are you even here right now?”
“Because you mentioned this closet was a mess, and while I’ve known it was a mess for years, I never looked too closely, choosing to ignore it instead. When I finally did, I couldn’t let it go. So, here I am, because you pointed out the chaos, and I seem to have a pathological need to fix it.”
Her rant is punctuated by the swing of her arms, highlighting her tight tank and gym shorts. I wonder if she actually works out or if she just wears the clothes. That’s what Rebecca did.
That thought pisses me off. I’m supposed to be getting caught up on work, not thinking about my ex.
“Can’t you do this some other time? You’re distracting.”
“Why are you such an asshole? Seriously. I’m not even asking that as an insult. I genuinely want to know why you think it’s okay to take your anger out on people who are just doing the job you wanted done. I’m not even getting paid for this, and yet, I’m still doing it because I thought it would ease some of your annoyance.” She takes a breath before starting back into her diatribe. “You know what? I don’t need this. You can clean this shit up while I go home and snuggle my dogs, who are very sad I’m not home right now.”
