1

“Come on, Mr. Luck! You can’t hide under there! What if you get hurt?” Ms. Charles pleaded in an upset voice. “Please?” Emily Freeman took a deep breath, opened the exam room door and entered the room. There she found Ms. Charles on her knees looking under the exam table. Ms. Charles’ large ass waving in the air was the last thing Emily had wanted to see.

She was in her late sixties, had her black hair pulled back into a neat bun, her white face was powdered up with makeup and lips fire engine red. Her derriere, or as Emily likes to call it ass, was up in the air facing Emily. Ms. Charles wore a navy-blue dress with a hideous floral print. Her matching navy stockings peeked out between the hem of her dress and the top of her shoes. 

“Mr. Luck,” Ms. Charles shouted again. Her raspy shout made Emily cringe. It wasn’t even lunchtime and already Emily had a headache. 

“Ms. Charles, it’s okay. Stand up. Let’s let Emily get Mr. Luck to come out,” Dr. Hemington suggested. His beady brown eyes staring at Emily through his thick brown classes. His brown hair was parted off to the side with an Alfalfa cowlick towards the back of his head that made Emily chuckle on the inside. If Dr. Hemington wasn’t such a jerk, she would have gladly told the man to fix his hair. However, they weren’t on good terms. They were on the simple ‘I’ll do my job. You give me my paycheck at the end of the week’ terms. There were days that Emily wished they weren’t even on those terms.

Dr. Hemington was in his late thirties. His mother was Scottish and his father was from the Middle East. This combination of heritage gave him the perfect sun-kissed complexion. The bridge of his nose had taken a few punches to it in the past, but chiseled jawline and stubble facial hair outshone it. Occasionally, he would let it grow out. The man was nothing to swoon over with his average height and build. However, the women who came into the office would swear to you that Dr. Hemington was a gift from the gods. 

“Emily. Are you going to stand there? Or are you going to get Mr. Luck out,” Dr. Hemington asked with a patient chart in one hand and the other hand on his hip. Ms. Charles stood next to him with her finger pointed to the exam table.

“Of course, doctor,” Emily said sweetly through her clenched teeth. Setting the tray of shots on to the counter, she kneeled down next to the exam table. She had hoped to not get her new Jurassic Park scrubs dirty today. Life had other plans.

She stared under the exam table. Terrified wide green eyes stared at her. Eyes that belonged to a trembling Mr. Luck. 

“Mr. Luck,” Emily cooed. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Mr. Luck wasn’t buying it. He cowered further into the corner. Truthfully, Emily couldn’t blame him. Being in the room with Dr. Hemington and Ms. Charles was frightful. She couldn’t imagine Mr. Luck being stuck with Ms. Charles days-on-end. 

“Mr. Luck, come on. You’re going to get stuck. You aren’t as thin or young as you used to be,” Emily stated waving a finger at Mr. Luck.

“Ugh! The nerve,” Ms. Charles gasped. “Mr. Luck is still in his prime. How dare you tell him otherwise?” Emily rolled her eyes and continued trying to coerce Mr. Luck out from under the exam table. 

“Why don’t we just move the exam table, Dr. Hemington,” Emily asked looking up at Dr. Hemington who was frowning at her. Or not, you grump, she thought to herself. She stretched her arm out under the table. Mr. Luck was just out of reach. 

“Do you have him? Do you have him,” Ms. Charles asked impatiently. You need this job, Emily. You need this job. 

“Not yet, Ms. Charles.” 

“Ugh,” Ms. Charles stomped. 

“Mr. Luck, I know why you don’t want to come out,” Emily whispered. “I don’t blame you. But please, for me, won’t you come out? Remember, I’m your favorite. You’ve never bitten me. Not once.” She couldn’t help but smirk at the last time Mr. Luck was here for a checkup. He had given everyone hell. Well, everyone but her. 

Mr. Luck looked at Emily with pleading eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry... If you come out, I’ll go get you a yummy treat. How about that?” Mr. Luck only stared. 

Emily scooted closer to the exam table. Her arm reaching as far as it could reach. She could feel Mr. Luck, but not enough to grab him. Emily moved her body to a different position. She reached again. This time she was successful. She grabbed Mr. Luck gently and pulled him from under the exam table. 

“Success,” Emily shouted victoriously. Mr. Luck startled. “Awe. I’m sorry, Mr. Luck.” Emily rubbed the top of Mr. Luck’s head. He purred against her chest and nudged her chin with his head. 

“Good. Now let’s take a look at you, Mr. Luck,” Dr. Hemington reached for Mr. Luck. That earned him a swat of the front right paw of Mr. Luck. “Be a nice kitty.” 

“Don’t be like that, Mr. Luck,” Ms. Charles cooed. Dr. Hemington reached out again. This time Mr. Luck arched his back, hissed and sprung into the air. He landed on a very terrified Dr. Hemington. 

Emily wasn’t sure what to do. She knew she should help her boss, but it wasn’t even an hour ago that he called her a dumbass. He also told her that Pinky, the koi fish, had more brain cells than Emily did. 

Emily frowned and leaned up against the wall. She watched Dr. Hemington as he hooted and hollered, spun around countless times trying to remove the pissed off cat from his medical coat. 

“Don’t hurt my Mr. Luck,” Ms. Charles screamed. 

“Your damn cat is nuts, lady,” Dr. Hemington shouted back in retort still trying to remove the cat. “Emily, don’t just stand there! Get your ass over here and get this damn thing off of me!” 

Oh. Is my dumbass qualified to help with such a huge task, Dr. Asshole?

“Damn, trip money,” Emily muttered and walked over to Dr. Hemington and Mr. Luck. “Aww. Now. Now. Mr. Luck. It’s okay. Come to Auntie Emily,” she said in her best baby talk voice.  

Meow!

Mr. Luck jumped into Emily’s arms. He was rewarded with lots of pets and snuggles from her. 

“See. All better now.” Emily glared at Dr. Hemington, whose hair was sticking up every which way. And, he had lines of blood showing through the right sleeve of his jacket. 

“Oh, Mr. Luck! Did that mean ole’ man scare you,” Ms. Charles gasped and snatched her cat out of Emily’s arms? “Humph. Call my Mr. Luck nuts. See if we ever come back.” She placed Mr. Luck into his carrier then gathered her belongings off the chair. “And you will be getting one hell of a review on Yelp too, Mister!” She waved her finger towards the doctor. “Just you wait and see!”

Emily opened the door wide for Ms. Charles and Mr. Luck. Ms. Charles began making her way out of the room but stopped just as she was about to pass Emily. 

“You, young lady, are a godsend! If you ever want another job away from this baboon,” Ms. Charles gestured at Dr. Hemington. “You call me.” She dug into her purse. “I know it is in here somewhere.” She rummaged more into her purse. “Ah-ha! Here it is.”

She handed Emily a business card that read: 

Hannah Charles

CEO, President

Luck Software Design

(321) 987- 0129

Luck Software Design? Where have I heard that name before? Emily thought as she stared at the white, glossy, gold font business card. 

“We don’t have any animals there for you to fix or what not. But there are other jobs you can do. And, if you don’t like any of those, I’ll create one for you. Okay?” Ms. Charles stared sternly at Emily. It was that look. The look telling you to mind her or you’d be getting a wooden spoon to your ass. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Emily replied tucking the business card into the front of her scrub pocket. 

“And, you...” Ms. Charles pointed her finger at Dr. Hemington. “You will hear from my lawyer.” With one last huff, Ms. Charles disappeared down the hallway. 

“Well, that was fun,” Emily mused.

“That dreadful woman! She thinks she can talk to me in just any tone! Huh? I am Phillip Alfred Hemington! She has some nerve! That... that...” Dr. Hemington stammered. “Old Bat! That’s what she is! An old damn bat!”

Dr. Hemington stormed out of the room and across the hall into exam room three. Waiting in that room was Bruce, a 150-pound rottweiler, who also hated the doc. 

“He is in for one hell of a ride if he thought Mr. Luck was a tough patient,” Emily chuckled. She tidied up the exam room. Mr. Luck hadn’t done too much damage thankfully. Unlike Bruce who was about to destroy exam room three and possibly Dr. Hemington too. 

Just at that moment, Bruce barked ferociously. Emily wasn’t even in the room with him and he made her jump. Next, there was a loud crash sound that came from inside exam room three.  Emily’s shoulders sunk. She knew what was about to happen next.

“EMILY,” Dr. Hemington hollered. There was another loud sound. This time it sounded like the exam table hitting the floor. 

“Two more days, Emily. Just two more days. Then you are free of this damn place for an entire week,” Emily assured herself. 

In two days, Delaware, Ohio, would be in Emily’s rear-view mirror. Lansing, Michigan, was where she was headed. That’s where this year’s Romancing the Mitten sponsored by Hearts Galore Author Services was being held. Emily had been lucky enough to get a spot on the authors’ attending list. Last year, she missed the deadline by a few days. Not this year. This year she would be signing her books for readers, chatting with other authors, and learning tricks of the trade. Being a vet tech was for the birds. As soon as Emily could get a decent income flowing in from her books, she would quit and write books full-time.

“Emily,” Dr. Hemington yelled out again. “Emily, don’t you hear me calling your damn name?” Bruce continued to bark, snarl, growl, and everything else a pissed off dog does. Emily stood in front of the door. Her hand on the doorknob. Again, she debated if she really wanted to play Dr. Dolittle and save the doc’s ass again. To be honest, the job didn‘t pay enough for her to play his savior every day. 

“We can’t hold him for much longer. Hurry and check his temperature,” Sarah, the other vet tech, shouted. 

“Emily! Get your ass in here.”

“Just two more days,” Emily sighed and made her way into exam room three to save the day.