“You want it?” Conor asked, holding the morsel out to the dog. “If you want it, you’re going to have to come get it.”
The dog whimpered, stretching for the treat, but was unwilling to come close enough to take it. Conor had been working with the dog off and on for the last couple of days, trying to lure it to him. The dog had been captured outside the Venetian by one of the employees and brought to the Lowerence clinic. She was emaciated and starving, and while she’d eat, she was terrified of people.
“Come on, buddy,” Conor urged. “You know you want it. You can have it. You just have to come get it.”
The woman operating the sound equipment pinched her lips to avoid making a sound as the dog crept forward, pulled back, then crept forward again. Every time Conor had a breakthrough with another dog, she wanted to start crying.
Conor ignored the camera and focused on the dog. “That’s it,” he urged. “Come and get it.”
She finally took the treat then immediately scampered to the back of her cage, chomping away.
Another treat appeared in Conor’s hand. “Look here. I have another one.”
The dog hesitated, then slowly crept forward to take the treat before once again retreating to the back of the cage. A third treat appeared. He said nothing, holding it at the edge of the cage door. As the dog took the treat, Conor scooped her up.
She squirmed madly, crying out her terror in loud pitiful sounding yelps as Conor held her and muttered to her softly. Slowly she relaxed, her yelps falling silent.
“There, see, I’m not such a bad guy,” he said to her.
He sat down in his rocking chair, holding the dog in his lap as he rocked, talking softly and slowly stroking her to calm her. At nearly forty pounds, she was a lap full, but he’d soothed bigger in this chair.
He rocked slowly, calming the dog, the act filling him with a deep peace. This was what he was called to do, and with over twenty million in the bank, he could afford to indulge in his whims.
The day after The Scarred had been wiped out, its members killed or in hiding, he’d called the entire club together and promoted Hightower to President of the club and DR Security, then announced his resignation from the leadership of both. The brothers and sisters had been shocked at the news, but over time they’d accepted that this is what he wanted. His new, unofficial, title was Special Advisor to the President, but it carried no voting rights and no authority, and that suited him just fine.
Over the next couple of months, he began spending more and more time at the clinic working with the dogs. He and the cats didn’t get on, but he had a special affinity with the dogs. He smiled as she strained up to lick him under his chin before settling back with a sigh. She was going to be okay.
Big Billy pulled the camera from his shoulder. No matter how much video he shot of Conor doing his thing, he still couldn’t believe it. This one had been a tough case and it had taken Conor two full days to break down the dog’s resistance. Now he’d sit with her for an hour or so, and he didn’t need to film that, and he wanted to check in on Shayna and Pete. Those two, when they were working together, were always good for material.
Shayna and Pete looked up as Big Billy and Lauren entered the surgical suite but kept their distance so to not interfere. After four months, the production crew and the staff were working together without getting into each other’s way.
“You may want to see this,” Shayna said.
Big Billy brought the camera to his shoulder and started capturing video as Lauren extended the boom on the mic to get it close enough for sound. The two doctors were behind a surgical veil so the camera couldn’t see any of the grisly stuff, but he knew from experience, if Pete or Shayna said he might want to see this, he’d be well advised to have the camera running.
“You got it?” Pete asked.
“Yeah. I need a little more retraction,” Shayna replied. “Suction,” she ordered one of the techs.
Big Billy grimaced, the sound making his stomach turn over, but ever the professional, the camera never wavered.
“There’s one,” Shayna said, holding a sock over the surgical screen for the camera to see before dropping it on a tray. “Oh, and another,” she said as she repeated the performance. “Let’s see, here’s number three. Oh look, number four.” Shayna continued until she’d pulled eleven socks from the Mastiff’s stomach.
“I don’t see anymore,” she said as she looked for more socks. She smiled behind her surgical mask. She’d been saving this one since it had come to her as she examined the x-ray. “It is socking what dogs will eat,” she said as she began to close, causing the entire surgical staff and camera crew alike to groan.
***
“Did you hear the news?” Shayna asked Big Billy as she stepped out of the surgical suite, pulling off her gown.
“No. What news?”
“Trevor called me a couple of hours ago. He wants another seventy-four episodes.”
“Already?” Big Billy asked in surprise as he followed Shayna to her office. Beauty and the Beasts hadn’t aired even the first of the twenty-six episodes Trevor had ordered. To be picked up so soon, and for so many episodes, must mean the internals on the show were off the charts.
“Yeah. He said Streaming America was buying out the show, whatever that means.”
“It means,” Big Billy said dramatically, pausing to lean against her door, “that we need to ask for a raise.” When Shayna looked at him, he chuckled. “You’ve heard of Streaming America and what they’re doing, right?”
“No.”
“Are you shitting me? They’re going up against the cable companies and networks. They’re producing their own content and streaming it over the internet. You buy a subscription for twenty bucks a month and for that you can watch all their shows whenever you want. If they’re buying out the show, that means Trevor won’t be able to syndicate it and shows will be shown exclusively on Streaming America.”
“Syndicate?” she asked.
“Don’t you ever watch television?” he teased. “Syndication is how all the shows not on during primetime get shown. All those talk and court shows, Gilligan’s Island reruns, that sort of thing. That’s was the original plan for Beauty and the Beasts, syndication.”
“And moving to Streaming America is a good thing?”
“It’s fantastic! I’ll bet you dinner in six months, there will be an order for another hundred episodes.”
Shayna grinned. At a hundred thousand dollars an episode, even after it was shared with everyone in the clinic, that still worked out to a nice chunk of change. “I hope you’re right. Today is your last day, right?”
“Yeah. Lauren and I will head back to LA tomorrow. We would be gone already, but Conor asked me to stick around.”
“Did he say why?”
“Nope. He said he had a surprise for me after you close today.”
Shayna frowned, wondering what that would be. With Conor, there was no telling. “When will you be back?”
“Now? I don’t know. A couple of months, maybe. I need to talk to Trevor and find out how he wants to do this. This is all new to me, too.”
“Billy!” Lauren called from down the hall. “Conor wants you.”
Big Billy grinned at Shayna. “Got to go. I’ll stop in and say bye before we leave.”
Shayna leaned back in her chair with a contented sigh. This was Pete’s weekend to work, she had no more appointments for the rest of the day, so in a half-hour her week was going to be over and she was looking forward to the couple of days off.
She shook her head, unable to believe how much her life had changed. She’d graduated school just over a year ago and in the past year, Pete had taken her under his wing. That was when she learned just how much she didn’t know. He was a kind and giving man, unstingy with his knowledge and wisdom, and she’d learned so much in the last year it was amazing.
She hadn’t mentioned taking over the clinic, but Pete was beginning to ease himself out, working only four days a week, and talking about cutting back to three sometime in the next couple of months. She was going to have to figure out a way to get him to stick around because he was as much a part of the show as she was, plus she was still learning from him and genuinely enjoyed working with him.
It’s funny how her life had taken a completely different path than she’d planned. She was still a vet, but she’d met Conor, and because of that, had become a minor celebrity after the tournament had aired. After the final episode was broadcast, where they’d talked about their experiences after the tournament, she and Conor had fielded all kinds of offers but had turned them all down, until Trevor had approached her about making Beauty and the Beasts. She sighed and closed her eyes as she swiveled slowly back and forth.
She’d agreed to do the show on the condition that it was totally unscripted. Trevor could make his show, but he had to film what happened without all the artificial drama. It had taken a little convincing to get Pete on board, but now he seemed to enjoy playing the role of the wise, grandfatherly, vet.
But as good as her professional life was, her personal life was even better. She’d moved into an apartment the weekend before she started working at the clinic, but six months after that, she’d moved again, this time into Conor’s house. They’d talked about it and agreed it was silly for her to pay rent on a place she hardly ever stayed. She’d worried what her parents would think, her smiled widening at the memory. After her ordeal, when they’d discovered what he’d done to save her, again, he could do no wrong in their eyes and they’d welcomed him into their family like a son. Over a Sunday dinner, when she nervously mentioned the possibility of them moving in together, rather than react with disappointment or distress, they’d smiled in amusement, surprised it had taken them that long.
By then there was no use denying that she was totally, hopelessly, madly, in love with Mr. Conor Mathew Boyd, and there were indications that he felt the same about her.
She felt pressure and hot breath on her arm. She opened her eyes and grinned at Harley as he put his nose on her for a scratch.
“Hey, Harley. Whatcha you doing?” she cooed as she scratched the dog’s ear. It was hard to believe that skinny, terrified, little pup had turned into this beautiful, happy, dog, and it was due, in large part, to Conor. He had a way with dogs, and he now spent a good deal of time in the clinic, roughhousing with them and taking care of their “special needs” patients. Word was getting around town if you had a problem dog, Lowerence Veterinary Clinic was the place to go.
Pulling herself out of the daydream, she spent the next ten minutes working on paperwork. Besides the fact that she enjoyed working with Pete, that was the other problem with him cutting back on his hours: she had more paperwork to do to run the office.
She heard the shrill whistle and Harley went charging out her office as if shot from a cannon, skidding and sliding on the tile floor as he raced to Conor. She giggled as she reviewed invoices for payment. She wasn’t the only one who loved Conor more than life itself.
“Shayna, I need a little help in here!” Pete called.
She stepped into the hall, but the entire office was deserted. “Where are you?”
“Exam room two,” Pete called.
She stepped into the room, but there was only Pete in the room. “What?”
“I just heard. We have an emergency case coming in. It’ll be here in a moment.”
Her heart sped up. “What happened?”
“Dog, about sixty pounds, with a foreign object in its mouth. I’m going to need you to help me extract it.”
She felt the thrill that came over her each time she was able to help a distressed animal. “Okay. I…” she let her voice fade away as the entire staff of the clinic crowded into the small room, Big Billy and Lauren filming as they stepped around the corner.
“Pete, what’s going on?” she asked.
In exam room one, Conor held the object out for Harley. They’d been practicing this for the past two weeks and Harley had it cold. The dog took the object, turned, and dashed into the second exam room and jumped onto the exam table.
“I told you, a dog with a foreign object in his mouth,” Pete said as Harley bounded onto the table and sat down.
Shayna reached into Harley’s mouth and removed the small velvet box. It was a bit slobbery, but she didn’t care. She gave the dog a quick scratch, tears flooding her eyes as she opened the box. She whimpered when she saw the beautifully crafted ring inside. She looked up as Conor stepped into the room, squeezed past Big Billy and Lauren, and took her trembling hands before he took the box from her and removed the ring.
“Shayna Nicole Shephard,” he began as he gently held her left hand and slowly slid the ring on her finger, “will you marry me?”
THE END
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