Foxfire by Carol Ann Erhardt

unit, complete
with a sick bay area and two incubator-type units on wheels. They
ended back in the reception area.
    “And this,” Tyler pointed at a computer, “is
the piece of junk that's driving me insane.” He scratched his head.
“I've been trying to get the billing set up for two blasted days.
The program said it was user-friendly, but I don't think it likes
me.” He shook his head. “I'm writing patient bills on pieces of
notebook paper.”
    “Maybe I can help. I know a little about
software programs. Do you want me to try?”
    “If you can get the damn billing program to
work, you'll earn the biggest and juiciest steak money can
buy.”
    “You're on.” She sat in front of the computer
and began to tap the keyboard. She felt his gaze fastened on her,
but she managed to ignore the urge to turn and look at him.
Finally, he left her alone. She studied the instruction booklet and
soon lost herself in the work.
    She had the program functioning when the
doorbell jangled. She spared a quick glance as Tyler came from the
back room and greeted a woman with a pet carrier. He led her to the
examination room. The door shut behind them and their voices
faded.
    Grace looked through the appointment book and
entered the names of the clients he'd penciled in. She tested the
program by printing a bogus bill and shot her fist in the air when
it worked. She loved the feeling of success.
    A few minutes later, the elderly woman came
out. She placed a carrier on the counter. Inside was one of the
biggest cats Grace had ever seen.
    “Tinkerbell's good for another year, Mrs.
Engleworth.” Tyler handed Grace a folder.
    Grace snatched it, trying to hide her smile.
Tinkerbell?
    “How much do I owe you, Tyler?” Mrs.
Engleworth fluttered her eyelashes in a shameless display that
brought Grace one step closer to dissolving in laughter. The woman
was older than Brad, for crying out loud.
    Tyler, however, winked at the woman and then
grinned at Grace. “Seventeen for the booster shots and twenty for
the exam.”
    “Got it,” Grace said. She printed out an
invoice and handed it to Mrs. Engleworth.
    Tyler's eyes widened with appreciative
surprise, and Grace suppressed a grin.
    The woman wrote out a check while the mean
looking tomcat, so inappropriately named, glared at Grace with
feral green eyes. Its tiger-striped fur dusted the air as it swung
its tail, flicking the sides of the cage.
    Tiffany pushed to her feet, stretched and
grunted, then trotted over and lifted her nose toward the
carrier.
    A long paw extended through the bars, baring
long needle-sharp claws. The cat hissed.
    “No, Tiff,” Grace admonished. The dog gave a
sorrowful look and went back to her spot on the floor. Muffin
jumped onto the counter and the two cats began a slapping
match.
    “Sorry,” Grace said. She lifted Muffin and
placed her on the floor.
    Tyler winked, then walked Mrs. Engleworth to
the door. “Thanks for bringing Tinkerbell in.” He opened the
door.
    “Thank you, Doctor.”
    “You're welcome. So long, Tinkerbell.” He
closed the door and turned a beaming smile on Grace. “You're
hired.”
    “What about the steak?” she teased.
    “You earned it, and I always keep my
promises. I'm also offering you a job as my office manager, slash
receptionist, slash billing clerk. The pay's not great, but the
boss is a great guy.”
    “Not so fast. What are you willing to
pay?”
    His grin stretched his cheeks. “We can work
it out. If you don't like the salary, maybe we can work out some
additional benefits.”
    “Only if you're talking about health
insurance,” Grace countered. She knew he was flirting with her, and
it felt good, like she was a normal person with no dark
secrets.
    He laughed. “Grace, it's going to be a lot of
fun working with you.”
    “Salary?” she prompted.
    “How about twelve dollars an hour to start
with a raise when business picks up.”
    “Deal.” She held out her hand. “When do I get
the steak?”
    Tyler sandwiched