Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“So, your biker dude just ruined my whole calendar,” Kayan grumbles, and I peek over the counter to see what she’s talking about, and everyday at noon, it says ‘Lunch with Wes’.
“Not happening,” I tell her, and she looks at me doubtfully. “I’m serious.”
“Okay,” she whispers, looking down at the paper, but I can still see the smirk on her lips.
“I need a drink.”
“Yeah, a tall drink of hot biker.”
“Shut up,” I mumble as disappointment floats through my system. Wes was hot and edgy, and obviously a man with issues, so sadly, we were never going to explore things, but that didn’t mean I didn’t wish things had turned out differently.
“Your two o’clock is here.” Kayan says and I come out of my daze mutter.
“Thanks.” Then smile at my patient’s family before kneeling down to greet Cloyed a very hyper Yorkie who makes me wish that men were as easy to understand as dogs.
The rest of the day passes quickly between patients and back work that I have to catch up on. I don’t leave the building until it’s dark outside, leaving Kayan to go shopping alone, which I regret the next evening when she shows me what she picked up.
“I’m not wearing that.” I look at the black full bodysuit that Kayan just pulled out of the bag she set on my bed.
“You are.” She smiles then walks to the bathroom and comes back a few minutes later wearing a matching black bodysuit that is unzipped, showing cleavage, and a pair of black boots that go to her knee, with three-inch heels. Her black hair is up in a high ponytail, and she has put black smudges under her eyes.
“Come on, go get dressed.” She pushes me toward the bathroom, and I go unwillingly then frown when I put on the outfit. I have no idea how I let her talk me into this. I leave my hair down. The bodysuit shows off every single curve and dimple of cellulite that I have. I don’t have a choice but to leave the top unzipped, because my breasts are so large the zipper is likely to bust. When I come out, she’s in my closet and she comes out with a pair of boots I wore once for Halloween. They are basically stripper boots that are shiny and have five-inch heels.
“I’m not sure about this.” I frown.
“We need to blend in,” she tells me, and my frown grows deeper.
“Blend in where? At the strip club?” I ask, and she laughs, handing me the boots that I reluctantly put on.
We get in my Jeep and go over to the office, and we park off in the distance where it’s completely dark. It’s after ten at night, and from the video footage timestamp, I know whoever dropped the last dog off had done it after midnight.
“What’s that?” I ask as Kayan pulls a bag from the backseat.
“Supplies,” she mumbles distractedly and begins pulling items out. The first is a camera that she sets on the dash. Next is a pair of walkie-talkies that she sets next to the camera, and then a thermos and a box of powdered doughnuts that she holds in her lap.
“I think you’re taking this too far.”
“The guy at the cop store didn’t even let me get everything I wanted.”
“What?” I laugh.
“I wanted to get one of those things you roll out to blow out tires, but he told me I needed to be a cop in order to buy them, along with smoke bombs.”
“Ugh.” I look at her and she smiles.
“This is going to be so much fun,” she whispers, and I shake my head and look out the front window. At one o’clock I’m just about ready to give up and go home, when lights flash and a car pulls into the parking lot. I tap Kayan, who had fallen asleep after eating the whole box of doughnuts while drinking the thermos of hot cocoa.
“What?” she mumbles, and I elbow her again.
Her head comes up as I hiss, “They’re here.”
“Oh shit,” she whispers, pulling the camera off the dash.
I pull out my phone and call one of the vets, Mark, who has been working with me over the last few months. I tell him he needs to get to my office and take care of the dog that was just dropped off, and to call the vet tech on call. He agrees, and I watch as the person drops the dog at the door then gets back in the truck.
Everything in me wants to go to the poor dog, but I know there will be someone coming to help him soon so that I can follow the truck. I need to see if I can find out any more information. When the person gets back in the truck and pulls off, I make sure my headlights are off before I start up the Jeep and follow him out of the parking lot.