boss.
Chapter 9
Percy
A few hours of physical labor, dragging plants and trees around, actually helped smooth out my nerves. By the time I got to the sanctuary, half an hour south of the city, most of the rest of the staff had left for the day. There were only a few zookeepers and large animal handlers, the maintenance staff, the manager, and the occasional construction worker, but apparently none of them felt the need to assist with moving the massive delivery of flora meant for the leopard enclosure.
But Geordie had, indeed, left a hand-truck to help me move all the plants.
It also made me feel a lot better to curse him – very loudly and very personally – each time I stubbed my toes or dropped a bucket on my foot or wrenched my back. I wasn’t afraid of hard work, but I also wasn’t physically conditioned for throwing around hundreds of pounds of dirt and trees.
If only Mr. Muscles himself, Dodge, was there to help. He could have managed to relocate everything in record time.
The thought stopped me in my tracks and made my cheeks heat. I pressed my hands to my lower back so I could stretch, trying to put aside any temptation to call him. Not that I had his number. I didn’t even know his last name – or if Dodge was his last name. Or first name. Or nickname, for God’s sake.
I pulled off my work gloves and stumbled over to sit heavily on an overturned wheelbarrow. I’d worked through dinner and managed to get most of the plants taken care of, but it left me out in the middle of nowhere with a growling stomach and nothing to fill it. Charging Ms. Bridger for the extra hours would help take the edge off my irritation, even though it was all Geordie’s fault. I wondered if I could approach her about the manager and see whether there was a different interlocutor I could work with at the charity. Clearly we would never get the enclosures completed in time for the newest arrivals if none of the other staff helped.
I rotated my neck, trying to relieve some of the pressure in my shoulders, and exhaled. Definitely time to go home. I could call Ms. Bridger tomorrow and give her a progress update, and try to work in that there was trouble brewing with some of her employees. Not that it was really my place to complain. I adjusted my ponytail and pushed to my feet, hobbling a little as my thighs screamed in protest. It was going to be one of those nights where I’d lifted so much stuff I wouldn’t be able to raise my arms up to wash my hair in the shower.
I turned off the lights in the area near where the leopard dens were and headed for the main big cat house. I liked to say good night to the cats, though the tiger was a nocturnal beast and was usually there to rub up against the glass when I walked by. They were the reason I was willing to work so hard. It didn’t really matter if Geordie was a total dick to me. At the end of the day, big cats, wolves, bears, and other massive predators would be saved from miserable lives in zoos and sideshows and carnivals. It helped ease some of the tension in my chest as I trudged across the dark field toward the big cat house.
A few lights bobbed across the area, like flashlights carried by people, and I slowed, frowning. There shouldn’t have been anyone else at the sanctuary so late. Everyone who’d been there when I arrived had checked in with me before they departed, so I damn well knew I was the last person inside the fence.
My heart beat a little faster. What if people broke in to get a look at the animals, or to mess with them? I’d asked Ms. Bridger and Geordie about increased security to keep people out, but they’d been more focused on keeping the animals in.
Part of me wanted to sit down and cry. It was just a really shitty day and getting worse with every passing minute. I couldn’t make it to where I’d parked my car behind one of the big containers they used for offices without potentially running into whoever carried the flashlights. I eased closer to one of the storage sheds and fumbled for my phone, thinking I could... do what? Call the