Foul Play - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,10
been scribbled on the wall nearest the desk. Photos of patients were taped everywhere.
Straighten it out? Amy gasped. It would take a forklift to clear off his desk. “How much are you going to pay me?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Is the cat real or stuffed?”
“That’s Spike. I rescued him from the shelter. He’s had a tough life. He lives here now.”
“Any other animals I should know about?”
“Spot comes and goes with me; you’ve met him. And there’s Ida.”
“What’s an Ida?”
“Ida!” a big green bird screeched from the corner. “Ida, Ida, Ida.”
Amy’s eyes opened wide. “My word. I didn’t see it there. It blends in with the palm tree.” This, Amy thought happily, was going to be fun.
Jake wanted to kiss her. It was all he could think about. Actually that wasn’t entirely true, he admitted to himself. He could think of other things, but they started with kissing. Hell, maybe one little kiss wouldn’t hurt. A gentle kiss. Last time he’d kissed her he’d acted like a Neanderthal. This time he’d use restraint.
He didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize Amy’s feelings for him. She was a passionate, responsive woman who’d saved a very special part of herself for twenty-six years. He didn’t want to be the one to mess up her plans. He didn’t want her jumping into his bed because he’d stirred up a bunch of vacationing hormones, and then when the flush of desire was sated have her wonder if she’d done the right thing.
After all, virginity wasn’t something you could replace. When it was gone, it was gone for good. He wanted to make damn sure that when Amy decided to love someone, it would be the man she’d marry. And by thunder, it had better be him! he thought, thumping his fist on his desk.
Amy flinched in surprise.
Jake felt the flush rise from his shirt collar. “I got carried away.”
“What on earth were you thinking? For a minute there I thought you were going to kiss me again, and then I was afraid you were going to strangle me.”
“Pick one.”
“No way. Is there a ladies’ room here?”
Jake sighed. “Two doors around the corner. To the left.” He slouched in his chair and rubbed his forehead, wondering if everyone acted this stupid when they were in love.
The front door to the clinic opened and Jake heard the unmistakable shuffle of his colleague’s size-thirteen feet.
Allen Logan paused at Jake’s open door. “You look like you’ve just been hit by a bus.”
“That’s about how I feel.”
“The flu?”
Jake sighed. “The receptionist.”
“What receptionist?”
“Our receptionist. The one standing behind you.”
Logan turned around and grinned down at Amy. “Howdy.”
Jake ambled over. “This is Amy Klasse. Amy, this is Allen Logan, DVM … my happily married partner and resident bear.”
Amy smiled at Allen Logan. He did resemble a bear. A big, lumbering, gentle bear.
“Will you excuse us for a moment?” Allen said to Amy. Grabbing an arm, he pulled Jake into the lavatory and closed the door. “I like her. Nice legs, cute nose, great smile. What the hell are we going to do with a receptionist?”
“I’m going to marry her.”
“Oh.” Allen didn’t bother to keep the laughter from his voice. “Does she know this?”
“Not exactly.”
There was a knock on the door. “Jake? There’s a horse out here.”
The bathroom door opened and the two men stuck their heads out.
“That’s not a horse,” Jake explained. “That’s a Great Dane. Mrs. Newfarmer must be early for her one-thirty appointment.”
Amy flattened herself against the wall while the dog sniffed her shorts. “He’s drooling on my shoe.”
“Can’t blame him,” Allen Logan said wistfully.
A small, round woman appeared in the hallway. “I’m sorry, Dr. Elliott. Brutus was so anxious to see you, he pulled the leash out of my hand and took off.”
“Mrs. Newfarmer, I’d like you to meet my new receptionist, Amy Klasse.”
Mrs. Newfarmer shook Amy’s hand. “How nice. This office needs a receptionist,” she confided.
Jake and Allen looked at each other nonplussed.
“I didn’t think we needed a receptionist,” Allen whispered.
Jake looked at yesterday’s files spread across the front desk. The telephone rang once and then plugged into the answering machine. In the past year his client list had tripled. Maybe he really did need a receptionist. He looked at Allen and shrugged. “Life is strange.”
“Speaking of strange, Mr. Billings is due any minute with Daisy Mae.”
Jake’s eyes got round. “Did you tell him he had to have her confined?”
“I forgot.”
The front door opened and a whiskered old man strode in with an enormous