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  And she loved gossip.

  “I haven’t met the new vet,” Lauren said.

  “You should go introduce yourself! He’s working today.”

  Lauren caught Paige rolling her eyes just outside of Diane’s peripheral vision. Lauren had detected a bit of matchmaking fervor in Diane’s tone but chose to ignore it. “If we ever have a slow moment again, I’ll pop over and say hi.”

  Diane sipped her tea and looked at Lauren over the top of the cup, her eyes sparkling. “See that you do. I’ve got a feeling about this one.”

  Paige snorted. “The same way you had a feeling about that kid who works at the bookstore?”

  Lauren sighed. Diane was hit-or-miss with the matchmaking.

  “You don’t have to marry him,” Diane said. “Just go say hello. It’s in the best interest of your business anyway, since you will very likely be working together.”

  Lauren raised an eyebrow. She could still detect a bit of mischief in Diane’s enigmatic smile, but she said, “I will.” She thought of the handsome guy who got coffee the other morning. Caleb. He was really cute, and Lauren wouldn’t have minded flirting a little—no harm in that, after all—but he hadn’t been back since, at least not while Lauren had been in the café.

  “Is Mitch doing another one of those rescue events?” asked Diane as she leaned forward and peered at Lauren’s notes.

  Lauren glanced at her notes and then back at Diane. Mitch was an old friend of Lauren’s, and he ran an organization that trapped feral cats and brought them to the Whitman Street Veterinary Clinic to be spayed or neutered before either organizing adoptions with Lauren or tagging and releasing the cats back into the feral colony that lived around the Brooklyn Museum. Some cats would not make good pets, but they could be prevented from making more cats. Mitch organized events to trap untagged cats about once a month in an attempt to humanely decrease the feral cat population in Brooklyn.

  “They usually go out the third Thursday of the month,” Lauren said, flipping through her notes to find the printout of her calendar. “Why, do you want to go?”

  “No, but my niece is interested.”

  “Oh, great. I’ve got flyers behind the counter with all the information. Want me to get you one?”

  “No, that’s all right. I’ll ask Monique on my way out. I’ll also keep an eye on things here if you want to go see the new vet now. And, hello, nice to see you!” Diane reached down and pet the head of a tuxedo cat who was rubbing against her leg.

  “We can go over the rest of this later,” said Paige.

  Traitor, Lauren mouthed to Paige. Then she stood. “Fine. I’ll go say hi. Keep an eye on that stripy orange cat. His name is Houdini because he thinks he’s an escape artist.”

  “I’ve got this,” Diane said. “Go.”

  ***

  Caleb pet the head of a French bulldog named Howard, whose tongue lolled out in appreciation. “He’ll be fine on the new diet,” he told the anxious pet parents. “I’ll write you a prescription for the new food. Rachel at the front desk can get you all set up with that.”

  “Thank you so much, Dr. Fitch,” said the wife. “I appreciate that you helped him calm down so much. His old vet made him so nervous.”

  “My pleasure.” With one last smile and nod, Caleb left Exam 1. Through the door to the waiting room, he heard Rachel say, “Hi, Lauren! Good to see you.”

  He peeked through the little window in the door. He could only see her in profile, but it was indeed Lauren from the Cat Café. She had on a boxy denim jacket that obscured her figure somewhat, with her long hair splayed out around her shoulders, and she wore a friendly smile on her face.

  Before he knew what he was doing, Caleb pushed through the door. On the pretense of giving Rachel the prescription for Howard’s new food, he pulled out his pad and scribbled down the patient’s name and the food he needed. He handed the slip to Rachel without really looking at her and said, “Hello again,” to Lauren.

  Lauren looked a little startled. Her gaze traveled over him, probably taking in the white lab coat and the name tag. “You’re the new vet.”

  “Uh, yes.”

  Rachel cleared her throat. “Lauren, this is Dr. Caleb Fitch. Caleb, this is Lauren.”

  Caleb couldn’t take his eyes off Lauren. It was like he’d conjured her.

  “Lauren manages the Cat Café,” Rachel said.

  She manages the café? “Oh,” said Caleb.

  “I came over to introduce myself to the new vet because we will inevitably end up working together. All cats who live in the café come through here first. I didn’t realize you were the new vet.”

  Caleb didn’t know how to interpret the way she’d said you, but he said, “Great. I look forward to working with you.”

  She smiled, which Caleb took to mean she was pleasantly surprised, so that was something. “I mean, if I’d known, I would have given you a discount on the coffee or something.”

  “It’s fine, really.”

  “Let me make it up to you. Next time you get a break, come on over and I’ll hook you up with a cup of coffee and a pastry. We have really good blueberry scones.”

  Caleb recognized this as an olive branch, not a date. Which was good, because he had no business dating so soon after the divorce. “Sure, I can do that.”

  “Great. I gotta go, I was just coming by to say hi. So, hi! I’ll, uh, see you around, Caleb.”

  He and Lauren could potentially spend a lot of time together, depending on what kind of cat turnover the café had. “How long has the Cat Café been open?” he asked Rachel after Lauren left.

  “About a year.”

  “Wow.” That was impressive for something that seemed like a fly-by-night idea. “And it’s popular?”

  “Yeah. Pretty popular. She’s got a good group of regular customers, mostly people who can’t have pets at home for whatever reason but want to pet some cats. It’s therapeutic.”

  “Sure.” Caleb recognized the therapeutic value of animal companions, but he still found the idea of a cat café a little silly. If one liked spending time with cats, why not just…get a cat?

  Caleb loved animals, though he didn’t currently have pets because Kara had gotten their mixed breed rescue dog Jimmy in the divorce. Caleb still missed that dog.

  And this was why he was never getting married again.

  He cleared his throat as Howard led his owners back into the waiting room. “Howard here needs a bag of the Pro Diet SD formula,” he said to Rachel. He gave his spiel about feeding routines and where they could order more food, and once they were gone, it hit him that, well, he had a coffee date with Lauren from the Cat Café. And he was kind of looking forward to it.

  Chapter 3

  Lauren signed the delivery slip for three dozen bagels she had delivered every morning from, in her opinion, the best bagel place in Brooklyn.

  The café had a kitchen—the space had been a little Italian bistro before Diane had the idea for the Cat Café—but it wasn’t currently in use. Instead, they ordered their array of pastries from several local bakeries and cafés. If they were going to keep all this business after some new coffee shop inevitably opened nearby, they’d need to enhance their offerings.

  Something to mull over.

  Sadie walked over and headbutted Lauren’s leg, then sat down and meowed.

  “You need something, pretty girl?” Lauren asked.

  Sadie trotted over to the door that led to what staff referred to as the cat room, the main seating area of the café, and pawed at it. Lauren said goodbye to the delivery guy and walked over to let Sadie into the room. While she was there, she decided to check on the cats. Sadie hopped up on the sofa, where a calico named Sunday was curled up, napping. Sadie then acted entirely out of character and snuggled up to Sunday. Lauren’s pulse spiked; something was wrong with this cat.

>   Sunday had acted oddly the day before, and Lauren suspected it might be a mild cold, the kind of thing that blew over in twenty-four hours. Cats tended to get more affectionate when they didn’t feel well, wanting comfort and snuggles just like people did.

  Lauren knelt beside the sofa and pet Sunday’s head. The little cat picked up her chin and started purring, so she was probably okay, but just in case, Lauren picked her up and carried her to the back room so that, if she was sick, it wouldn’t spread to the other cats. She didn’t want to bother whichever vet was on duty today in case it turned out to be nothing.

  Although she did wonder if it would be Caleb. He still hadn’t come by for his cup of coffee in the few days since she’d invited him, which she probably should have taken as a sign that he was just not that into her… Even though she didn’t want him to be into her… Well, okay, she did… But, well, love was still off the table. And it seemed ill-advised to pursue a quick roll in the hay with a guy she’d likely have to work with in the future.

  Sunday curled up in the cat bed. Lauren put a bowl of water and a bowl of kibble down for her. “I’ll be back to check on you soon, okay?”

  Sunday gave a disinterested snort, stood up, turned around, and lay back down.

  Lauren got pulled into helping with the rush hour crush, mostly putting pastries in paper bags while her employees made lattes and rang people up. When things finally calmed down a couple of hours later, she checked on Sunday, who had wandered into the curtained-off back area where litter boxes and extra food were stashed. She hadn’t touched the food but was presently squatting over a magazine that had fallen on the floor. But nothing came out. Classic sign of a UTI.

  “Lauren, can you come out here?” called Monique. “I need help with something.”

  “Hang in there, Sunday. We’ll go see the vet soon and get you some antibiotics to clear that right up.”

  There was finally a lull in the late afternoon, by which time Sunday seemed a bit droopy. She hadn’t eaten anything, probably because she was in pain from the UTI. Lauren grabbed a carrier and loaded Sunday into it, then took her next door.

  Caleb stood at the reception desk when Lauren walked in. He seemed to be chatting with Rachel, and no one else was in the waiting room. He was still as handsome as ever, his light brown hair a little disheveled today, his white lab coat fitting neatly over his shoulders.

  “Hi,” Caleb said, standing straight suddenly. He smiled.

  “Hi. I’ve got a sick cat,” said Lauren.

  Rachel wheeled over to a filing cabinet and said, “Which one?”

  “Sunday.”

  Rachel pulled out a file and handed it to Caleb. He said, “All right. Come on back.”

  Lauren followed Caleb into an exam room. He flipped through the file as Lauren took Sunday out of the carrier. Sunday was definitely sick, because she didn’t put up a fight or try to dig her claws into the floor of the carrier, as was otherwise routine. Rather than put her on the cold metal table, Lauren cradled Sunday in her arms and pet her head.

  “What are the symptoms?” asked Caleb.

  “I think it’s a UTI. She’s been doing that thing where she randomly squats like she’s going to pee, but nothing comes out.”

  Caleb looked up and met her gaze, and Lauren wondered how it was that she was talking about cat pee with a very handsome man. What wrong turn had she taken to end up here?

  “Anything else?” he asked. “Is she eating? Drinking water?”

  “No. I put water and food out for her in the back room at the café this morning, and both have been basically untouched all day.”

  Caleb put the file down. “Can I examine her?”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  Slowly, Lauren put Sunday down on the table. Sunday let out a little mewl of protest when her paws hit the cold metal. Caleb pet her head as he looked her over. “Hi, little girl,” he cooed. Sunday was putty. She started purring and leaning into his hand.

  “I’d like to run some tests,” he said.

  “Is that really necessary? It’s pretty clearly a UTI. Can’t you just prescribe antibiotics?”

  “She’s also not eating or drinking water, so there may be another underlying problem.”

  “Or she’s in pain from the infection. I don’t want to traumatize her by putting her through a bunch of unnecessary tests.”

  Caleb gazed at Lauren over the top of his glasses. That was clearly a “Which one of us is the veterinarian again?” look. “Nothing invasive, just a urinalysis to confirm the UTI and a few blood tests to make sure nothing else is up.” He leaned down toward the table and started examining Sunday more closely.

  “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job—”

  “Then don’t.” Caleb glanced up at Lauren, then went back to examining Sunday.

  “But I’ve worked with probably a hundred cats in my time at the Cat Café. This is a garden-variety UTI.”

  “You’re probably right, but just to be safe, indulge me.”

  Did Caleb not get how this was supposed to work? If Olivia had been working, she would have written the scrip without all this drama. Urinary tract issues were common in cats, and Lauren had seen a dozen of them. She knew what this was.

  “I know you’re new here, but I don’t think I can justify the expense of unnecessary tests.”

  “They aren’t unnecessary. I’m trying to make sure there isn’t a worse underlying problem. If it’s not a UTI and Sunday gets sicker, then where will we be?”

  Lauren let out a frustrated grunt.

  Sunday let out another little mewl as Caleb ran his hand over her belly. He frowned. “This could be a blockage. Maybe I should do an ultrasound.”

  “Geez.” It was like he was deliberately challenging her now. Lauren crossed her arms, wondering if she should prepare to do battle.

  Caleb stood up straight again. “I mean, I only spent five years in veterinary school, and five in practice, but you run a café, so you must know better.”

  Lauren took a step back. She hadn’t expected the sarcasm, even though she knew she was poking him. Maybe he was right, but she hated to put Sunday through unnecessary tests, or to subject her bottom line at the café to a huge veterinary bill. She was willing to eat the cost for a real problem, but she could see the dollar bills floating in front of her, a lot of them, for what should have been a pretty standard course of treatment.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but—”

  “Could you maybe trust me? Wouldn’t you rather rule out any potential issues that could be causing this little cat worse problems that antibiotics won’t cure? Cats have short memories. Drawing a little blood will be forgotten in an hour. And an ultrasound is not invasive but will tell me if she has a blockage or anything else unusual going on. Did she use the litter box at all today?”

  “Not that I could tell.”

  “Well, then.”

  ***

  Caleb felt a little bad for snapping at Lauren, but not that much, because she was getting on his last nerve. On the other hand, she looked kind of adorable when she was all angry and befuddled.

  Besides which, this cat probably had kidney or bladder stones and not just a “garden-variety UTI.” UTIs were usually associated with frequent urination, not no urine at all. The fact that this little cat had stopped eating was a red flag to Caleb, an indication of a more serious problem.

  Lauren furrowed her brow. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I’ve worked with a lot of cats over the years.”

  “I know. But I’m not an idiot either. Here, hold her on the table. Let me go get the portable ultrasound.”

  He could tell she was going to fight him. He was in the right here, though, and he didn’t need some café manager telling him how to do his job. Because if the cat did have some kind of stones, she was likely in pain, and Caleb needed to know exactly what
was wrong so he could provide the right treatment to stop that pain.

  Maybe Lauren was right. But she could let him run a couple of damn tests.

  He walked out of the exam room and stuck his head into the waiting room. “Hey, Rachel? Can you assist me? Exam 1.”

  “No prob! Be right there!”

  He went back into the exam room and said to Lauren, “Why don’t you wait in the waiting room?”

  “Olivia usually lets me assist.”

  “She must have better insurance than I do.”

  “Caleb—”

  “Do you have to fight me on everything? I’ve done these tests three times just this week. I know what I’m doing, and you can trust me. Please wait in the waiting room. This will take ten minutes, tops.”

  Lauren pursed her lips and looked at Sunday, uncertainty all over her face. But she nodded and left the room, passing Rachel on her way out.

  Ten minutes later, Caleb had ascertained there was a bladder stone small enough to pass on its own, so there wasn’t much he could do. Usually, the treatment he preferred was blasting the stone with lasers to break it up, but he could already hear Lauren objecting to surgery, and it wasn’t necessary anyway. But antibiotics certainly wouldn’t do anything, so he wasn’t going to subject the cat to them.

  “I better go give Lauren the good bad news,” he said to Rachel, who smirked.

  “She means well,” Rachel said.

  “I’m sure she does, but I don’t enjoy people telling me what’s wrong with their cats as if they have the veterinary degree and I don’t.”

  Rachel filled a small bowl with water and put it on the table next to the cat, who lapped at it.

  Caleb took a deep breath and walked back to the waiting room. “You can come back now.”