One Hot Summer - Page 25

ream, and though he didn’t think he’d do it in Port Henry, it was the only true home he’d ever known. Any resentment he’d felt toward the wealthy had waned as he treated sick pups of the rich and famous, helped mend the semi-exotic felines who found themselves in precarious situations, and tended to the other random animals people chose to keep as pets.

By the time he was thirty, he’d become the top veterinarian in the area. He was well-known for his bedside manner with the animals, but also after years of being in the employ of the well-off, he knew how to appease them and their demanding ways with a smile. It didn’t hurt his cause that he was also handsome. So handsome that, on numerous occasions, actors, directors, and wannabe somebody’s had tried to get him to attend their parties under the guise of their thanks for his work, but also to recruit him for parts in movies, television shows, and only God knew what else.

He was always flattered, and couldn’t help his flirtatious nature, but the phony nature of most of his clients wasn’t exactly a turn on. That didn’t stop him from the occasional summer fling. He was, after all, still a man, and the dating pool in Port Henry wasn’t exactly a hotbed of dateable singles looking for monogamy. He gave as good as he got, and every summer brought a few of the same ladies by with their dogs that weren’t really sick. There was always one or two new acquaintances to make though, even if only for the evening.

Donovan reflected on the approaching summer with a grin. It had been a while since he’d had any fun and the new crop of women coming to town with their plunging necklines, short skirts, and unfriendly dogs was about to begin. The summer crowd kept his business thriving, and his sheets warm. What more could a thirty-two-year-old bachelor want?

The last patient of the day was a Bengal cat that was walking with a limp. Mrs. Forbes, who was pushing her mid-sixties and had a bit of a limp herself, had brought “Princess Dinah of the Nile” in on a leash.

“Mrs. Forbes, why is Dinah on a leash today if her paw is hurt?” he asked, annoyed the poor animal wasn’t in a crate.

“Now, Dr. Hunter, you know that Her Majesty does not like getting stuffed into that damned box. She prefers to walk, even if it is with a limp.”

Mrs. Geraldine Forbes, of the Montauk Forbes, was old money. Very old money. Legend had it her late husband died a mysterious death in his fifties when Geraldine was just thirty herself. Nobody liked him. Roger Forbes was a curmudgeon at best, and an asshole. He treated everyone as if they were beneath him, and nobody that Donovan was aware of shed a tear for him, including Geraldine.

“I know that she is royalty, but if her paw is injured, we don’t want her walking on it, okay?” Donovan replied softly and patted the table between them for her to place Dinah upon.

The cat was beautiful. With huge green eyes and spots like a leopard, the domestic Bengal was small for its breed, and extremely friendly. Donovan felt animals could sense people that were into them and as such, most animals were quite friendly with him unless, of course, they were very sick or injured. Dinah was no exception and she rubbed her head against him as he examined her front paws.

“Did she fall or anything that you’re aware of?” he asked.

“I don’t know, dear. She’s always climbing about in my closets and such, and she can jump so goddamn high, it’s hard to tell. She’s an explorer,” Geraldine replied, shrugging her shoulders.

After he gently squeezed the cat’s paws and found the reaction he was looking for, Donovan was certain it wasn’t serious. “I am pretty sure it’s just a sprain, Mrs. Forbes.”

“It’s not broken or anything?”

If it were broken, you wouldn’t be able to walk her in here on a leash, he thought. “No, she didn’t get terribly upset when I felt her paws, and nothing appears to be dislocated. I’m going to give you some kitty ibuprofen to mix in her food twice a day, which will help with inflammation. Try to keep her from jumping too high or getting herself in any predicaments for a few days and she’ll be good as new.” He paused before continuing. “She needs to go home in a carrier though. She shouldn’t be walking around on that paw.” He attempted to veil his irritation, internally chalking it up to Mrs. Forbes’ senility.

“Okay, okay, Doctor. Tell that pretty redhead out front to box up my cat.” Geraldine rolled her eyes at him. She may have been beginning her golden years, but it seemed her sass was still as sharp as a twenty-year-old’s.

Donovan chuckled. “It’s for the best, I promise.” He lightly patted Geraldine on the forearm before giving Dinah a few more head scratches on his way out of the exam room.

“How is Her Majesty, the Queen of Sheba?” Toni asked with a grin, once they were out of earshot.

Antoinette Fournier had been Donovan’s assistant and veterinary technician since he had opened his practice. They met briefly in high school, and then again when he came back to the Port to open his practice. She, too, had been a part of the second generation of the working class in town until she married Scott Dewey, of the Dewey Soda empire. They’d met one summer when Scott was on vacation at his family’s enormous mansion on the bay, where Scott hosted many an unsupervised party for his friends.

Long since divorced, Toni didn’t need to work. With young love comes the belief it will last forever, and thus no prenuptial agreement. Since Scott’s father had placed several smaller, albeit profitable, businesses in his son’s name, as his wife, Toni was awarded a hefty sum. Nobody knew the exact dollar amount, but to be rid of the family as a whole, she took a payout from them instead of half the businesses when her husband’s philandering came to light. Because it wasn’t about the money, Toni took great pleasure in her work with animals.

Donovan chuckled at her reference. “The princess is fine, but can you please get a carrier for Mrs. Forbes to take her home in? She has a sprained paw. She will also need six doses of the cat ibuprofen.”

“You got it, Doc,” she replied.

As she sauntered off to find Mrs. Forbes a cat carrier befitting royalty, Donovan couldn’t help but watch her ass sway back and forth in her tight scrubs. Divorced women always had great bodies, especially when their ex-husbands footed the bill for it, and Toni was no exception. Her implants, a classy wedding gift from her former betrothed, paired with the personal trainer he was fairly certain she was fucking between sessions, kept her looking like she had the body of a twenty-something even though she was close to thirty-three. Squats. She must be doing a lot of squats.

Donovan shook off the thoughts of bending his assistant over the exam table and bid farewell to Mrs. Forbes and the princess. Summer would be there soon enough, and he’d be able to get that itch scratched from someone he wasn’t paying to assist him soon enough.

Later that evening, after feeding his four cats, Hulk, Thor, Ivy, and Diana, and his two dogs Archie and Veronica, he picked up the book he was reading and took it to the porch with a bottle of beer. A storm was coming through and while the wind was picking up off the coast, the position of the small house protected him from the impending weather. Still cool enough for a sweatshirt, Donovan put his feet up on the rattan ottoman his mother had given him as a gift when he purchased the house, and gazed at the sky.

The dark clouds coming in were moving quickly but brought a refreshing and cool breeze that could only be felt close to the waterfront. Real estate in the Port was always outrageous, which was why the rich and famous, and well to do New Yorkers liked to vacation there. It’s exclusivity brought with it a virtual billboard advertising your net worth if you could afford to spend summers there. It wasn’t always the case, but most of the folks with houses had paid a pretty penny and the resale value went up year over year, creating a vacuum of the rich making each other richer with every summer season.

The house Donovan bought was a fixer-upper by every stretch of the imagination, and while larger than what he needed just for himself, was quite small relative to the area where it was located. It had gone into foreclosure, and when the bank took it back from the owner who couldn’t keep up with the Joneses, he was able to snatch it up for a fraction of what it would have gone on the market for. The property alone was worth more than the house, but Donovan enjoyed working on it himself in the slow season, and it had become a home he loved, even if it was in a town he wasn’t sure he felt the same way about.

2

Riley

New York City was bustling as always and Riley Maxwell could hear the horns blaring from the hostile drivers sitting in rush hour traffic, trying to get home. “I wonder if they know that honking your horn is illegal in New York City,” she said.

Tags: Heidi McLaughlin Romance
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