Serena set about her new task, pulling up Will’s appointments. She laid out the folders in a neat pile, just in time to greet Will as he returned with Chekhov and a dour-faced Mr. Hawthorne. Serena stayed calm this time, even conjuring a smile, but Mr. Hawthorne just harrumphed at her, his hand on Chekhov’s collar.

  “Mrs. Peabody used to dote on him. She’d come out from behind that desk just to scratch his ears.”

  Serena stood up, but her blood turned to ice at the thought of sticking her hand anywhere near that great, grinning maw. She stood rooted to the spot, pulse pounding in her ears.

  “It’s her first day,” said Will. “Let’s go easy, huh?”

  Mr. Hawthorne just snorted. “C’mon, Chekhov,” he said. “We know where we’re not wanted.”

  Serena sank down in her chair, her humiliation complete. Will reached for his files and his mouth turned down.

  “Did you remember to go back to today’s date after you canceled Scotty’s appointment?”

  “What?”

  “These are the wrong files. I think they’re next week’s appointments.”

  “Oh, God.” Serena reached for the files, feeling small and pathetic. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t do anything right. Let me just take those, and—”

  “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” Will turned to go, then looked back with a smile that seemed more strained than before. “Try to relax,” he said. “I get days like this too, where one thing goes wrong and I’m thrown off all day. The only way to get back on track is to shrug off that rough start. Put that behind you and move on fresh and new. Think you can try that?”

  Serena nodded, not trusting her voice. One hour into her first shift, and she’d screwed up so badly Will was giving her pep talks. He felt bad for her now, but how long would it take for pity to turn to frustration? How long till she walked out of here with a pink slip in her pocket and a pile of debts a mile high?

  Maybe Ma had a point. Maybe she couldn’t hack it, all alone in the world.

  Will sprayed the table with disinfectant and set about wiping it down. Mittens had made quite a mess, letting loose from both ends—just what he needed to cap off his day. Serena had mostly got her act together after the filing debacle, but she’d stayed nervous and jittery, setting the patients on edge. Their owners, as well, which was—

  “What do you mean, that’s the fee?” Mrs. Richter’s voice rang out, high and earsplitting. “I want to speak to your manager. Where’s Doctor Harvey?”

  Serena mumbled something, too low to hear. Will kept on scrubbing, giving Serena her space to handle it on her own. It’d be a boost for her confidence if she made it over the hurdle. If not—

  “I told you, I get a discount. Are you blind, or just stupid?”

  “Damn it.” Will set down his cloth and peeled off his gloves. Serena didn’t deserve that, on top of everything else. He plastered on a big, fake smile and strode out to reception. “Hello again, Mrs. Richter. What seems to be the problem?”

  “Your girl left off my discount.” She brandished a receipt in his face. “See? No ten percent.”

  Will took the receipt and scanned it, then leaned over Serena’s shoulder to compare it to the invoice. “Okay, I see what happened,” he said. “It’s Serena’s first day. She put in your discount, but she forgot to hit APPLY. Give me a second and I’ll refund the balance.”

  “I’m sorry,” whispered Serena. Mrs. Richter shot her a dirty look.

  “All’s well that ends well,” said Will. He printed off a fresh receipt, then bent to tickle Mittens under her puke-soaked chin. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You go on home, now, and stay out of those cream puffs. Those aren’t for you.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Harvey.” Mrs. Richter scooped up her soggy cat and marched off in high dudgeon. Serena watched her go with wide, shellshocked eyes.

  “I can’t believe I did that,” she said. “I didn’t see the APPLY button, and—”

  “Never mind that.” Will blew out a long breath to vent his frustration. He should’ve expected this from a green hire on her first day. But Serena had seemed so put-together back in high school. He’d thought that would translate—that confidence, that poise. “Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you come in early again tomorrow, and I’ll walk you through Daytimer? And I’ll brief you on our clients so you can brace for the tough ones.”

  “Are there a lot of tough ones?” She wiped at her face. “I thought that last one might gobble me whole.”

  “Not a lot like her, no. But they all have their quirks, so it’s good to be prepared.”

  “I wasn’t today, was I?” Serena’s voice was small. She looked hurt and fragile, her hair hanging in her face. “I want you to know I’m grateful for this job. And I can do better. I just—”

  “You’re just settling in.” Will set his hand on her shoulder. It hurt his heart to hear her voice quiver. “We’ll go slow, okay? One day at a time.”

  Serena sniffled, but when she looked up, her smile was back. Her eyes were bright and determined, and she held her head high. “I’ll do you proud, you’ll see. No more mistakes.”

  “Do your best. That’s all I ask.” Will grabbed her coat off its hook and helped her into it. He walked her to the door and watched her safely to her car. She sat there a while, hunched over the wheel, then straightened up and pulled out. Will’s smile faded as her taillights receded in the distance. It’d been an impulsive thing hiring her, and maybe a mistake. She’d only make herself miserable if she wasn’t up to the job, struggling in vain to clear a bar she’d never reach.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, jarring him from his thoughts. He checked the caller ID and cursed under his breath. He’d promised Travis he’d stop by an hour ago to look in on the horses.

  “Hey, man. I’m coming. Got held up at work.”

  “Held up or distracted?” Travis gave a chuckle. “Didn’t Serena start today?”

  “She did,” said Will, locking up behind him and heading for his truck.

  “And?”

  Will leaned on his truck. He didn’t want to badmouth Serena. She’d looked so defeated, hunched over in her car. She deserved credit for trying, if nothing else. “She’s a hard worker,” he said. “And it’s good to have company around the clinic.”

  “Especially company as pretty as her.”

  Will snorted, dismissive. “Not that I was looking.”

  “Not even a little bit? Not even—”

  “I’m hanging up now. I’m getting in my truck.” Will cut their connection, shaking his head. Truth was, he had looked, much as he’d tried not to. Serena’d been cute back in high school, but now she was gorgeous, all curvy and soft. She’d smile to herself sometimes, this sweet, secret smile like she’d just been reminded of someone she loved. That smile made his heart race, thinking some day she might light up that way for him.

  “Can’t let myself think that way,” he muttered. I’m her boss, and she needs my help. I’ve got to keep my attraction locked down.

  Tomorrow, he’d work with her, get her over her jitters. He needed an assistant. She needed this job. Somehow, together, they’d muddle through.

  4

  Will looked up, pleased to hear the door chime at 8:27. Serena must’ve rushed over, straight from school dropoff. If nothing else, she had a stellar work ethic.

  “Morning,” he called, shaking out a fresh cover across his exam table. “Go ahead and get settled. I’ll be out in five.”

  Serena’s voice drifted back to him, a little too eager. “Take your time,” she said. “I found these videos online, Daytimer for Dummies. I might be a dummy, but I could schedule your whole day now, down to when you brush your teeth.”

  Will laughed out loud, cutting off her nervous rambling. “I’m good on dental hygiene, but I appreciate the thought.”

  Serena laughed along with him, and Will’s tension tapered off. He’d ease her in slow today, let her get settled. He could hear her bustling around out there, setting up for the day.

  “Finding everything okay?”

  “I brought a few things from home. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Will smiled. “Not at all. Reception is your domain.” He finished his prep work, then stripped off his gloves and ambled out to join her.

  “Seeing you’ve mastered Daytimer, we can go over today’s...” He trailed off, slack-jawed. In less than five minutes, Serena had turned his waiting room into Santa’s village. A big jar of candy canes stood on her desk, next to a plastic Christmas tree dripping with tinsel. She’d stuck mistletoe in the doorway and poinsettias in the corners, their gold-lacquered plant pots catching the light. “Whoa.”

  Serena’s face fell. “You don’t like it.”

  Will made a strangled sound. “It’s just, we’re a veterinary clinic, and poinsettia plants are poisonous. And the tinsel…cats want to play with it, but then they swallow it, and it plays havoc with their guts.”

  “God, I’m so sorry.” Serena grabbed the Christmas tree and shook it over the trash. The tinsel clung to her sleeves, crackling with static. “I knew mistletoe was poison, so I brought the plastic kind. But poinsettias, tinsel, I had no idea.” She brushed at her sleeves, but the tinsel stuck fast. “It’s everywhere. What was I thinking?”

  “I’ll get the Dustbuster. You round up those plants.” Will beat a hasty retreat, picking tinsel off his pants. Serena was trying too hard, going that extra mile in all the wrong directions. If she didn’t calm down soon, she’d set the place on fire.

  “I got the worst of it,” she said, when he came back with the vacuum. She held up a stuffed Hefty bag. “I’ll take it out to my car, and the poinsettias as well.”

  “It was a nice thought,” said Will. “And folks’ll love the candy. You can keep that jar and the mistletoe, but the rest needs to go.” He softened his tone, seeing Serena go tense. “Look, it’s your first week. It’s okay to relax, maybe stick to the basics till you’ve settled in.”

  “I crossed a line. I get it.” Serena’s shoulders sagged. “I’d best get this stuff out before we open the door.”

  “Flip the sign when you come back.” Will retreated to his office, swallowing frustration. He was behind after yesterday, with files to update and follow-ups to schedule. The last thing he needed was a new catastrophe every hour, courtesy of Serena. Still, she’d had it rough. He could give her a chance, at least, to find her feet.

  He reached for Chekhov’s file and flipped it open, noting the dog’s vaccinations and Hawthorne’s concerns. The man always had plenty. Pet hypochondria—does that have a name? Doggochondria? Hypohoundria? He chuckled to himself.

  “Doctor Harvey?”

  Will nearly jumped. Serena had materialized without making a sound. “Call me Will,” he said, heart pounding in his chest.

  “I pulled your files for today. The right ones this time.”

  “Okay, thanks. Stick ’em in my inbox.” He fixed his eyes on his notes as Serena dropped off the files. He hadn’t specifically told her she couldn’t enter his office, but this was his sanctuary, his place to clear his head. He needed some breathing space, a chance to—

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, thanks. I’m good.” He flipped through the files as Serena made her exit. She had got it right this time, but his focus was off. Serena’s Christmas blooper had upset his routine, and his tension only mounted when she reappeared in his doorway with a steaming mug.

  “I made coffee,” she said, setting it down at his elbow. “I thought you might want some.”

  Will pressed his lips together. “I don’t drink that at work.” He realized he was scowling and softened his tone. “It’s just the job, you know? I need steady hands.”

  “Oh, right. Of course you do.” Serena reached for the mug as Will did the same, and somehow, between the two of them, they knocked it into his lap. Will sprang up, shouting, batting at his crotch. The coffee wasn’t scalding, but it was hot enough to sting, and Will shook out his pant legs, jigging side to side.

  “I’m sorry. So sorry.” Serena was on her knees, blotting him with a tissue. Will jerked back, but she followed, dabbing at his jeans. Her thumb grazed his fly, and Will went stiff all over. His cock twitched and he panicked, stumbling back so abruptly he tripped over his chair. He careened into his bookcase and it thumped against the wall. A mounted rat skeleton teetered on the edge of disaster, then plunged to the floor and shattered to bits. Serena lunged after it, too late by far.

  “Get out,” gasped Will. “Just go. I’m fine.”

  Serena gasped like he’d slapped her. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then turned and ran.

  “Wait! Wait, Serena—”

  The phone rang out front. Serena grabbed it and Will slumped against the wall. She hadn’t meant any harm. She’d tried to help him clean up, and he’d gone and snapped at her. She’d never calm down if he kept up this way. Just, down on her knees like that, inches from his crotch—it’d been all his teenage fantasies rolled into one—those soft hands, those big eyes, those full lips slightly parted...

  He let out a harsh breath and retreated to the bathroom. His jeans weren’t too bad—a stain down one leg, a few drops on the cuff. His hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed bright red. He leaned over the sink and splashed his face with cold water, then blotted his jeans dry and grabbed a new coat. By the time he’d shrugged into it, he’d regained his composure. Apart from his wet bangs, he looked good as new. Serena, on the other hand...

  I’ve got to make this right.

  He strode out through his office, but Serena was still on the phone. Her voice was sweet and soothing, despite her recent upset.

  “Why don’t you describe it, and I’ll make sure he gets the message?”

  Will paused in the doorway, watching Serena’s shadow on the faded green wall, nodding as she listened.

  “Aw, poor Chekhov! Has this happened before?” She paused. “Oh, every time? And did you let Doctor Harvey know?” She listened again and scribbled on her notepad. “I’d pick up a tube of that, then, but I’ll have him give you a call.”

  “Chekhov itching again?” Will stepped out as Serena hung up. She tensed at the sight of him, but he held up a hand. “I’m not here to snap at you. I came to say I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.”

  “I think I do.” Will smiled, wide and friendly. “You did great, by the way, just now on the phone. Chekhov gets itchy every time he gets a shot. Then Hawthorne calls and screams at me, and I suggest aloe vera.”

  “He didn’t scream at me,” said Serena. “At least, not much. I started asking questions, and that cooled him down."

  “You did perfect.” Will took a candy cane and twirled it around his fingers. “Listen, you’ve had a rough morning, mostly thanks to me. I have a light afternoon, so I was thinking, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You could do some Christmas shopping, or whatever you want.”

  Serena’s face fell. “Does this mean you’re firing me?”

  “Firing you?” Will frowned. “Why would I do that?”

  “I can think of a few reasons,” said Serena, but Will shook his head.

  “This is me saying sorry,” he said. “And that we’ll start fresh tomorrow, same time, same place.”

  “Tomorrow it is, then.” Serena reached for her jacket. “I won’t say I’ll do better—I don’t want to jinx it. But I’ll be here with bells on, no tinsel, no plants.”

  Will watched her go, smiling. At least she could laugh at herself—and she didn’t hold a grudge. She deserved another chance, and maybe a few more after that.

  Serena staggered upstairs, laden with Christmas shopping, phone tucked under her chin. She blundered into the banister, nearly dropping her bags.

  “I swear, I need six arms to wrangle all this loot.”

  “What, like a cockroach?” Lydia snickered. “Does this mean you’re done?”

  “Just about.” She reached her bedroom at last and dropped her bags on the floor. “How I’ll pay off my credit cards, that’s a whole other question. Especially if Will fires me. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.”

  “Fire you before Christmas? Who is he, the Grinch?”

  “Uh-uh. Will’s sweet. But I did scald his crotch, not to mention the poinsettias.” She flopped down on her bed, aching all over. “I can’t believe those are poisonous. They sell them all over.”

  “They sell chocolate too, but it’ll still kill your dog.”

  “Seriously?” Serena’s head hurt. “I should know this stuff, right? To work for a vet?”

  “Never too late to learn.” Lydia’s voice dropped to a low, suggestive pitch. “So, speaking of Will—”

  “Oh, would you look at the time?” Serena got to her feet. “Sorry, not sorry. Gotta clean up for the kids.”

  “Classic avoidance. This isn’t over.”

  Serena laughed and hung up. She headed down to the kitchen and got some cookies in the oven, the simple ritual of baking settling her nerves. She’d goofed up today, but she’d learned her lesson. Tonight, once the twins were down, she’d make herself a nice spreadsheet—every type of pet she could name down one side, then columns for safe foods and foods to avoid. And plants, household items—

  “Mom?” Julie came skipping in, knapsack thumping on her back. “We went to play at Mrs. Brown’s, but she said you were home.”

  “Are those chocolate chip?” Nathan darted in behind her and bent to peer in the oven. “I can’t see if they’re fudge swirl or chocolate chip.”

  “They’re chocolate chip.” She glanced at the timer. “Go wash your hands. They’ll be ready by the time you get back.”

  Nathan streaked off, but Julie hung back. “We’re having a bake sale at school,” she said. “I said I’d bring brownies. Is that okay?”

  “Of course it is.” Serena bent to hug her. “I’ve got a new Christmas recipe, with peppermint snow. We’ll try it together.”