"How am I doing?" she whispered, and her hot breath caressed his ear. The rushing warmth threatened the shape of his pants. Think cold thoughts. Think gross thoughts—dog barf, suturing wounds, emptying cat anal glands. Stronger, he needed stronger! His dress pants were shifting. Neutering dogs! Bingo. Neutering dogs. Snip, snip, and crisis averted.
"You're doing fantastic. A natural. By the end of the day, you'll fit right in with Becca." He winked and her cheeks blushed bright pink. She gave him a small curtsy with her sixties-curtains fluffy dress and returned to the desk.
Mathew finished all his patients for the day and by the end, she was a natural. She had a surprising ability to learn foreign concepts quickly. It was like she had no fear at all. Even his own dad hated computers, and he didn't time-jump over a hundred and sixty years. She was something special all right.
He retreated to his office to compile the day's data ahead of locking up. Revenues were the same as always. They didn't increase, they didn't decrease, but…those expenses. It was a wonder he slept at night. He needed to type up a discount policy and stick to it. Scrolling through Quickbooks, he overheard the women's conversation at the registration desk.
"Hey, Verity?" Becca asked.
"Yeah?"
"Is something wrong with the toilet, because if there is, you can just tell us, and we can take care of it."
"What do you mean?"
"It didn't flush."
"Flush?"
Mathew chuckled and stepped out to rescue her from embarrassment. "I didn't mean to overhear, but is that toilet acting up again?"
"It never did before," Becca said.
"I'll get it taken care of, no worries," Mathew replied.
"Sure thing, doc." Becca crossed her arms with a frown. Her eyes raked over Verity. Mathew wasn't going to explain, not that he could anyway.
"Are we set for closing?" he asked.
"Yeah, except for the toilet."
"Punch out then. Good work today." He dismissed her a few minutes early. He would handle the toilet problem himself. Becca collected her purse, phone, and book, and clicked the mouse a few times before logging out of the computer.
"See you tomorrow." She slipped her sunglasses on and turned the Open sign to Closed as she left.
Mathew waited until the door was closed tight. "Is the toilet backed up?"
"I don't know." Her eyes were round with concern.
Mathew smiled and inside the bathroom he saw waste floating in the bowl. He pressed the flushing handle down. It swirled away with a loud whoosh. Verity covered her ears. "What was that?"
"Plumbing. When you're done, just push that handle and it all goes away."
Her face turned a shade of tomato. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
"It's okay. Nothing to be embarrassed about. I spend most of my days with my arms inside dogs and cats. Once you've expressed a cat's anal gland and gotten sprayed in the mouth with it, everything else is just...nothing." She stared at him with her green doe eyes. Did she not understand? "How did things go with Becca today? I'm sorry about leaving you to fend for yourself. I can't close the clinic last second and leave all my patients hanging."
"Are you a doctor for animals?"
He smiled. That was the only thing on her mind? "Yeah. I am."
"And you own this clinic?" she asked as if the idea was unbelievable. Mathew determined she was impressed with him. Verity, the brazen woman of wonder but innocence, was impressed by his old clinic, outdated small apartment, gas-guzzling SUV, and what she didn't realize, a net worth of many negative digits. If he explained that, she wouldn't be as dazzled, and selfishly, he liked how she looked at him.
"Well, the bank does, but it's mine. Listen, how about we take a trip over to the mall? I don't want to offend you, but until Kiko returns from her family emergency, we're on our own. And to make it easier on you, I thought finding you current clothing would help."
Verity looked down at her dress and then her eyes roamed his clothing, lingering in places that caused the flash of heat to boil in his veins again. He wanted to kiss her, to take possession of her mouth, to taste her lips and caress her tongue. But he couldn't do that to her. She was probably a virgin, for god's sake.
"I think new clothing would be a proper idea. I need a bath, anyway."
Mathew was an idiot. He hadn't even offered her a shower before they'd left. They didn't have time anyway, but maybe some clients could've rescheduled. "I'm so sorry. Let's get you some clothes and get cleaned up. You like pizza?" He must've had a credit card or two with remaining credit.
Her cute nose crinkled. "I don't know."
The woman didn't know what pizza was.
He would fix that.
***
MATHEW TURNED THE wheel of the behemoth until they stopped between more yellow lines on an endless lot. The building was large—two stories and as long as she could see.
"This is the mall," he said. "They were popular a few decades ago and recently started coming back. It's still the most efficient place to find clothes though. Come on in."
Verity pressed the red button to release her tether. She waited for Mathew to come around the car, as he called it, and let her out. Verity didn't want to be in front of all the cars, since Mathew said that was the dangerous side. His large hand enveloped hers, but she slipped her hand away and instead looped her arm around his. He smiled and properly hooked his arm for her. A warm rush flooded her body with the respect he showed her again. They zigzagged between parked cars, and inside glass doors that opened themselves was a sea of storefronts bathed in skylight coming through the ceiling. Scents poured over her, foreign music vibrated her eardrums, and bright colors assaulted her eyes.
It was glorious.
Mathew led her to a store with women her age browsing, so this was the correct place for her too. He held out some options, and she accepted whatever he suggested, since he knew better. He insisted she try them on in something he called a dressing room. Wearing Mathew's selections in front of the mirror, she felt naked. Her legs were covered separately—like a man, but in torn denim with sparkles on the back pockets—not like a man. Her jeans, as he called them, didn't understand gender appropriateness, and her shirt hugged her skin very close. But breathing was much easier than with the corset. She bent, squatted, and jumped with ease. She determined that her new jeans and blue floral top were made as if only for her.
"When you're finished, I can lace up your dress," Mathew said through the door of the dressing room.
She didn't want to take them off. "Can't I just wear these now?"
"Not yet. We have to pay first."
Frowning, Verity peeled off her new clothes, slipped on the layers of her undergarments, and pulled up her dress. She held the heavy fabric in place and opened the door, exposing her back to Mathew, whose deft fingers laced both the corset and the dress.
"Next stop, shoes," Mathew said as he slid a card through a machine. It made noises, and he signed on the screen. His looping signature didn't match the screen well, but it must've known it was him, anyway. The transaction was accepted, and a strip of paper rolled out for him. She wanted to understand how it all worked. Mathew carried her bags, and she folded her arm inside his. Down the hall, he brought her inside a shoe store.