Walk the Dog by Isabel Jolie

Author:Isabel Jolie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: single dad romance, steamy romance, romantic comedy adult, veterinary romance, medical romance comedy
Publisher: Isabel Jolie
Published: 2020-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Delilah

The brown cardboard box human resources offered sits on my desk, empty. I stare at it, numb. In another life, this box held wine bottles. Judging by the shape and size and the circular indentations on the bottom, it held a dozen. A spiderweb crosses from one side, covering a corner. The thin strands can only be seen when light reflects on them, and the pattern breaks near the center. A soft tap on my door tears me away from my deep box inspection.

“How’d it go with Margaret?” Anna stands in the doorway, her brow furrowed in concern. I wave her into my office.

“Fine. She wouldn’t let me resign. Talked me into a personal leave. Three months, and then we regroup. The senior art director position may be filled if I come back, but they will hold my current position for me.”

I pick up a silver bamboo frame from my desk. The picture’s of Moxie, my childhood dog, an American Water Spaniel. She was a good dog. Come to think of it, she never, ever overate. I place the cherished memory in a large cardboard box. “I don’t think I’ll be back, but Margaret wouldn’t listen to me. She said it’s all too new, and if I need to resign, then she understands, but for me to go home and find out more before making any decisions.”

Anna perches awkwardly on the arm of an office chair across from my desk. “What can I do?”

I pull my desk drawer, which requires jiggling because it’s crammed with Post-It notes, pens, receipts, paper clips, gum, hair ties, rubber bands, and a gazillion other objects. I stare at it and think I see the corner of a tarot card. “If I don’t come back, maybe clean out this office for me?”

She drops into the seat and pulls one leg up to her body. “What does he have? You only told me he’s sick.”

Tears build up as I stare at the framed picture of a slow loris, a type of small, endangered primate, hanging on the wall behind her. The round black glass pupils speak to me. I adopted one, not for real adopted, but sent money in to save one on the island of Java in Indonesia, hoping to remove it from the endangered species list. The other framed picture in my office is of Chevy Chase circa the seventies, and a framed photo of Nina Simone hangs closer to my desk.

“Mom couldn’t stop crying, and I stopped asking. She told me I have some time, that I could wrap up this week, but they need me. My plan is to get home, see my dad, talk to his doctors, then do research. New Orleans is great and all, but depending on what he has, he may need to see doctors from a larger hospital. My folks tend to refuse to believe you can do better than New Orleans—well, for most things. Mom’s full-on accepted there’s better shopping in New York.” I force

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