Oops, My Bad by Pontone A.C

Author:Pontone, A.C.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Angela Camilla Pontone
Published: 2021-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Emily

I can’t get anything else out of Logan. Aside from the terse explanation he gave me about why Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Potter act like a couple of gossipy grandmas, all I’ve learned is that he’s not a mafioso or a professional hitman. I acknowledge my mind goes in weird directions sometimes.

At any rate, work progresses uneventfully. There are no unfortunate encounters with huge boa constrictors or bitchy Barbies who want their pets mutilated. The only thing that’s really annoying right now is the crowd of women in the waiting room. I’m beginning to believe that the only reason ninety percent of the clients are of the female gender is the sexy vet waiting in the doorway.

Wait, why is he standing there? He speaks, clenching his jaw and obviously making an effort not to raise his voice. “Emily? Could you show the next patient in, please?”

Oops. Maybe I’m a little distracted. “Of course!” I respond perkily, scanning the appointment book to see who’s next. “Mrs. Hilton?” I lift my gaze to see which of the mass of women will stand up. It’s like being catapulted into The Hunger Games or something. Only the strongest will survive and obtain the coveted prize: Logan Price.

Muzak plays softly in the background as the women look at each other. There’s tension in the air. I seem to hear thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance. One of the contestants audibly grinds her teeth. Another curls her hands into fists. Still another sets her jaw.

A bead of perspiration appears on my forehead as I watch the show. Who will be the victor? I wonder.

And then, there she is. Mrs. Hilton stands. She has long, straight blond hair, enormous hazel eyes framed with unbelievably long lashes. High cheekbones. Sculpted red lips. A delicate up-turned nose. She’s wearing a black sheath dress and her narrow waist accentuates her abundant bosom. Her breasts are so perky I can’t tear my admiring eyes away from them for a few seconds. Her legs are long and slender and she’s wearing a pair of red stiletto heels.

She’s fucking gorgeous. I have a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Mrs. Hilton is carrying a crate with her pet inside. She undulates her way toward Logan, walking as if she owned the world. “Dr. Price,” she purrs. Literally.

The other women are shooting daggers at her with their eyes, but she’s blithely unaware of them as she sets her hand on Logan’s forearm. Even her fingers are slender and delicate, their nails long and red. My eyes go automatically to my own fingers, which are stubby, the nails cut short.

When I return my gaze to Mrs. Hilton, I see Logan smiling at her. I see red and my claws come out. I feel like a fucking lioness that’s just come upon an intruder in her territory.

He’s mine.

“Logan, darling,” I call, fluttering my eyelashes and pouting my lips, “can I do anything else for you right now?”

He regards me with his eyebrow raised. “No, Emily, thank you.

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