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ONE
HOPE
“Iknow, buddy.”
Hope Oliver dodged an open-clawed swipe from the orange cat, who hissed and thrashed as she tried to administer a vaccine. As a veterinary technician, she was fond of most animals that came through the door, including the little demons who attacked her with their fangs and claws whenever she tried to help them.
She worked in a rural clinic that was located in a small town. It was the only one for miles around. Many people brought their livestock in for routine check-ups, but they also got their fair share of household pets.
“Sheesh,” she mumbled, gazing at the scratches on her knuckles. “I thought we were friends, Buttercup.”
In response, the cat hissed.
After a few minutes of wrangling with the cat, she let out a sigh of relief as she finally gave the kitty its much-needed vaccine. She disregarded the dramatic and drawn-out yowl that Buttercup made since he was infamous in the office for his theatrics. His owner left a note apologizing for the cat’s behavior in advance.
Hope tilted her head, wiggling her fingers at the cat. “That wasn’t too bad, right?”
Buttercup growled low, tucking his paws beneath his body and most certainly plotting her demise.
“Hey, Hope?” A woman with orange hair popped her head through the doorway after knocking. It was Dr. Polly Klein, her boss. “Finishing up here?”
“Yes, ma’am. Buttercup got his combination vaccine.” She reached for some bandages and wipes. “He left me with some battle scars. See?”
Dr. Klein smiled. “I’ve got someone asking for you at the front desk.”
“Who?” Hope frowned, wincing as she applied the alcohol pad to her wounds. “And why?”
“Beats me, honey, but she seems eager to talk to you.” Dr. Klein nodded toward Buttercup, leaning on the doorframe with her hands in her coat pocket. “I’ll finish the paperwork for our little friend.”
“Good. He might kill me if I stay another second in this room.”
Dr. Klein patted her on the shoulder on the way out.
Glancing at her wristwatch, Hope made her way toward the front desk. Her lunch break was in a few minutes, which was exciting. She tried her hand at making some rice balls, and although they were clumpy and lopsided, they tasted really good. That was what mattered.
“Hello there,” Hope said, greeting an older woman at the desk who perked up when she arrived. “How’s it going, ma’am? What do you need help with?”
“Ah. You’re Hope Oliver.”
“I am.” Furrowing her brows, Hope’s eyes glanced over the woman’s most distinguishable features, including her bobbed white hair and blue eyes. She seemed somewhat familiar. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t blame you for not remembering. We passed each other briefly at that charity event a few weeks ago. Remember that one? The one for animals in need.”
“Of course.” Still, Hope was a bit confused. She didn’t remember talking to many people that day. “How do you remember me? I don’t think we spoke.”
“Well, I’ve got a habit of making mental notes of people. And to put it bluntly, you caught my attention, especially once I found out that you had a job as a veterinary technician.” The woman laughed, which made her hair bounce happily. “Forgive me. I must have forgotten my manners in the car. My name is Gerri Wilder. Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise, ma’am,” Hope replied rather quietly. The situation boggled her mind. Was this a potential job offer? “Why’d you mention that just now?”
“Mention what?”
“Taking mental notes on people.” She rubbed at her sore knuckles absentmindedly. “I don’t think I was very memorable, if I’m being completely honest with you.”
“I must respectfully disagree.” Gerri placed her hands on the counter, showing off her long, vibrant nails. “You see, I have a few talents. One of them involves raising money for the charities that interest me the most, but the other deals with matchmaking.”
“Really? That sounds like an interesting hobby. What does that entail?”
“It’s part of the reason why I came looking for you, honey.” A smile spread across Gerri’s face, which sparked a wave of confusion within Hope. With a raised brow, Hope slowly shook her head.
