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“You remember me, right?” The woman who brought her schnauzer in today asks me.

I steal a glance at the electronic chart that Matilda opened on my tablet for me before the woman sauntered in dressed like she’s headed to a night at the club even though it’s barely ten in the morning.

Short red dress, strappy heels, and a makeup job that would make Delia jealous. My sister, in all her infinite studious wisdom, should have pursued a degree in chemistry since she’s constantly experimenting with the products she puts on her face.

“Marilyn,” I say the name of the person listed on the chart in front of me. “Marilyn O’Shea.”

That brightens her face instantly. “You remember me.”

I do.

I remember we had a hell of a three week run until she tugged me into a jewelry store in Tribeca to gawk at their display of engagement rings.

I excused myself to make a call to my brother. That had nothing to do with anything but giving myself a reason to leave the store.

Marilyn wasn’t impressed when I didn’t return to her side. She flew out of the store thirty minutes later with one question.

She dropped to one knee on a busy sidewalk and asked me to ask her to marry me.

I refused all of it.

She left in tears.

I went for a drink.

That was the end of our story, or so I thought.

Since Tilly is standing in the corner taking in this trip down memory lane, I smile. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Marilyn answers with a sigh. “You?”

“Fine.” I glance at the schnauzer, who has fallen asleep on his back on the exam room table. “What’s the problem with this guy?”

“It’s his ear.” She sucks in a breath and arches her back to jut out her chest. “He keeps scratching the right one, or maybe it’s the left one.”

I’m not about to be sidetracked by her tits. That happened when we met, but I was somewhat tipsy and looking for a warm body.

“When did it start?” I move to examine the schnauzer’s ears.

The pup doesn’t move an inch as I peer inside with a light. I do the same to the other ear.

“When did what start?” Marilyn questions with her back still arched.

Tilly clears her throat. “When did Mr. Peppers start scratching his ear?”

Marilyn shoots her a look that is meant to shut Tilly up. It’s another reminder of why it was so easy to walk away after our brief relationship.

“Oh, right.” Marilyn taps a red-tipped fingernail to her forehead. “A day or two ago, I guess.”

“Any other symptoms?” Tilly asks.

“No,” Marilyn answers curtly. “I’m sure Dr. Hawthorne can handle this on his own. Besides, we have something important to discuss that is private.”

She enunciates that last word with a show of her teeth.

I look at her. “We have nothing to discuss that is private, Marilyn. If you’d like, we can run some tests on Mr. Peppers, but I don’t see any issues with his ears.”

“Are you going to charge me for the tests?”

“Yes,” Tilly handles that. “I can provide you with our fee schedule and explain each test and its merit to you.”

“Explain why I can’t speak to Dr. Hawthorne about that.”

I look to Tilly and offer her a nod. It’s a silent acknowledgment that she can leave.

“I’ll be back with that fee schedule,” she says on her way to the door. “If you need anything, Dr. Hawthorne, I’m a moment away.

It’s obvious she felt the bite of Marilyn’s words.

I watch Tilly leave. She doesn’t entirely shut the door behind her, which means an extra set of ears will be listening in on this discussion.

“I miss you, Matt.” Marilyn jumps right into it without a safety net. “You must feel the same way. I mean, we had some good times on my roof.”

I can’t argue with that, so I don’t. “I’ve moved on, Marilyn.”

“Take a step back in time.” She shimmies her hips. “Why don’t we hang out tonight for old time’s sake?”

I glance down when the schnauzer rolls onto his side. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.”

“You appreciate the offer?” she drops her tone to try to mimic mine, but she fails miserably.

“Yes. I appreciate the offer.”

“You know I’m not against sharing.” She leans her hip against the steel exam table. “If you’re involved with someone, bring her along. The rooftop bed is roomy.”

It sure as hell is not. I rolled off of it a time or two.

“That won’t happen.”

Tilting up her chin, she glares at me. “This is a one-time offer, Matthew. If you don’t take a chance with me now, you may never see me again.”

If only that were true.

Her chart clearly states that she’s booked Mr. Peppers in to be neutered in four weeks.

I type Dr. Hunt’s name into the attending vet’s slot on my tablet. He can handle that and her.


Tags: Deborah Bladon The Hawthornes of New York Romance