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For all I knew, Clint might be heading off to his hometown soon to become mayor. He didn’t want to, but I had no idea if he’d conveyed that to his father yet. The elder Hauser didn’t seem really willing to listen to dissenting opinions, although he’d actually been pretty nice to me during our brief conversation after Clint had gone to sleep.
He was just naturally…authoritative. He wore power like a cloak he was well used to.
Not that Clintondale was like DC or something. There weren’t even that many people there.
My cell went off in the pocket of my hoodie and I dragged it out, expecting Clint. Instead it was Thorny Paw Clinic.
Uh-oh.
“Hello?”
“I’m looking for Katherine Armitage.”
I swallowed hard. I recognized the warm, heavily accented tones of Clint’s boss at the clinic, Grant Thorn, immediately. He was from Ireland and his low voice curled around me like one of those thick, comfortable sweaters the country was known for. “It’s me. I mean, I’m she. Hi Grant, I’m sorry about Princess. It’s been too long. I’ll bring her in for her yearly soon, I promise.”
I was going to look into online therapy about my ongoing grief, along with the agoraphobia and my panic attacks in general. I’d been making progress lately, but I had so far to go yet. So many more steps to climb.
But I had all the motivation in the world to keep taking the stairs.
“Easy does it, Katherine, whenever you’re ready, we’ll fit you and sweet Princess in. I’m not about to let Clint steal you away, although I expect he’ll continue to try.”
I frowned and narrowed my eyes at the phone as I held it away from my ear. What exactly did he mean by that? We’d never had anything but a professional relationship.
My God, was I just pumping out male-attracting pheromones lately or something? No one had paid me any mind for a really long time. Now my very existence seemed to be drawing all the boys to the yard for a taste of my very bottled-up milkshake.
What the hell was going on?
“I’m committed to Clint,” I said matter-of-factly as Magnus chose that moment to stroll into the room, cuddling my kitten.
Or Clint’s kitten.Ours?It was all so confusing.
Mag’s brow furrowed as if he was about to speak and then he fell silent as he seemingly noticed the phone in my hand. I held up a finger, indicating he should stay, before I pointed to the microwave cart and the colorful stacks of canned can food on the bottom shelf.
He heaved out a breath but dutifully went to pick out a can. “Kitten food,” I mouthed as he looked back at me and resumed checking labels.
“Are you now? Good to hear. I have seen the change in him in just a short time. This profession is hard to deal with. It takes a lot out of you. Hard to see the beloved pets you care so much for sick or hurting. Holding their life in your hands is a weight, you understand.”
“I do.” So Grantdidn’twant to have sex with me? That was a relief.
I truly didn’t understand male-female relations. Or human relations, period.
“The rewards are so huge too, but you can only reap them if you manage to contend with all the rest. Clint has a big heart. He needs someone he can turn to. I had my wife.”
“Oh, good.” Whew. Belatedly, I realized he’d saidhad.“I’m so sorry, whatever happened.”
“Thank you.” For a moment, his Irish lilt grew. “I’ve lost so much, but I have Poppy. Poppy is my everything. My daughter,” he added, while I bit my lip and wondered if I’d go to hell if the line mysteriously disconnected while I repeatedI’m sorryover and over.
It wasn’t that I didn’t feel for him. I truly did. I just didn’t know how to deal with all the personalities and emotions in this apartment already without getting overwhelmed. My head felt full to bursting.
I didn’t hang up. I listened. In fact, I listened so hard I nearly missed his question.
“So you’ll convince Clint not to come in tonight?”
“I will?”
“I have faith you have ways of persuading him,” he cleared his throat, “that I certainly do not.”
Could kneecaps blush? If so, I was fairly certain it was happening at this moment.
