“To set up your operation. Not in Salinas or Santa Cruz.”
“Exactly. So, think I could pick your brain a bit sometime?”
“Absolutely,” he answered, squeezing my hand firmly. Because we were still shaking the hands.
“Chloe?” I heard from the door. Another tall man, with silver hair and welcoming smile, dressed in a suit and tie, white lab coat, and a name tag that said Dr. Campbell.
I nodded my confused head.
“Hi, Chloe, I’m Dr. Campbell. Lou said you might be stopping by, but I didn’t expect you so soon. I see you’ve already met my son, Lucas.”
“Nice to meet you, Chloe,” Lucas said, finally letting go of my hand. “Well, I’ve got to see a poodle about some quarters,” he said, meeting my eyes one more time.
“I think the Winkles are in exam seven,” the elder Dr. Campbell said.
“Could have sworn Marge told me I needed to go to six,” Lucas said, which was confirmed a second later by Marge herself as she breezed down the hallway in a cloud of Jean Naté.
“I did tell you exam six. I needed someone to keep Chloe company until your dad was ready for her,” she called over her shoulder.
“Could’ve clued me in, Marge,” Lucas shot back.
To which Marge responded, “Now where’s the fun in that?”
“She’s got me there.” Lucas looked back at me and I shot him a knowing glance, which made him unleash that killer grin once more.
“Um, son? The Winkles in seven?” Dr. Campbell nudged.
“On it. Nice to meet you, Chloe. You’ll have to tell me all about this operation you’re setting up; sounds fascinating.”
Then he was gone and I was ushered into Dr. Richard Campbell’s office, where we did indeed discuss the possibilities of opening up another Our Gang in Monterey. And while we talked, I didn’t think about how great Lucas’ butt looked in his scrubs. And by didn’t, I mean only for a little while.
Dr. Campbell had a wealth of knowledge. He worked with pit bull rescue all over California, and was instrumental in helping towns get rid of the laws that made it illegal to own dogs like pit bulls. He also donated his services to provide free medical care to some of the dogs pulled out of the fighting rings that were a popular pastime for very sick and cruel people.
He thought it was a great idea to open up an Our Gang here, and with some of his close friends being county supervisors, he was confident that the approval wouldn’t be a problem.
I left his office feeling like a plan was literally taking shape before my eyes. On my way out, I stopped at the front desk to say good-bye to Marge.
“Thanks for making the meeting with Dr. Campbell happen this morning,” I told her as she sorted folders at a dizzying pace.
“Which Dr. Campbell are you referring to?” she asked with a coy smile.
I raised an eyebrow. “The father, of course.”
“And the son?” she asked, raising her own eyebrow. Oh boy.
“You’re a little bit wicked, aren’t you, Marge?”
“Only a little bit?” she asked, and I laughed out loud. This woman was a trip. “So Lou mentioned that you just moved into town from San Diego, is that right?”
Whoa. Subject change. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve moved into town. Visiting would be the right word.”
“Visiting . . . all by yourself?” she asked, nonchalantly. I noticed that she slowed down the pace of her filing, however . . .
“Yep. All by myself.” I widened my smile. I knew where this was going, and I knew I had no business going along with it. But I was glad I’d removed the engagement ring last night. What a strange thought for someone who should be sunning on a beach on Tahiti with her new husband at this very moment.
“What perfect timing. Lucas just got back after being away for a while. If you need someone to show you around town, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to—”
“No no no, Marge, I’m going to stop you right there.” I leaned over the counter toward her excited face. “I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. I just got here, and I’m dealing with some stuff—”
“Everyone’s dealing with some stuff, darlin’. Sometimes it’s just nice to deal with it while looking at a gorgeous hunk of a man.” She reached below her chair and plopped a giant yellow purse in the shape of a sunflower on the desktop, then pulled out her phone. “Now, take a look here. Here’s Lucas at the clinic picnic last spring—isn’t he so handsome? And here he is in his kayak—did you know he loves to kayak?”
“How would I know that? I just met him.” I shook my head, letting this play out since she seemed to be having such a good time showing me pictures of Lucas. And I’ll admit, the shirtless picture of him on the beach was worth listening to this kooky old bird for a few more minutes. I also learned some interesting things. He’d gone into practice at his family’s animal hospital right after finishing up veterinarian school, third generation, don’t you know. And he indeed loved to kayak, he loved the ocean in general, don’t you know. He’d spent the last twelve weeks in Guatemala working for Vets Without Borders. That explained the tan.
Finally, with a cheery good-bye and a promise to stop by any ole time, I scooted away. And on my way out, I saw Lucas come walking down the hallway with a very relieved looking poodle. I waved, he waved, and I found myself strutting a bit as I headed out the front door.
Back in my car, I found the address to the grocery store I’d started out for an entire morning ago, stocked up on food, and headed for home. And as I went up my driveway and parked around back, I looked out at the old pastures, the trees, the open space almost as far as I could see . . . and I suddenly had a very good idea of where Our Gang Monterey could set up shop.
I just had to convince my father.
Chapter five
I spent three days lying by the pool, listening to sad songs, taking long, hot baths, drinking wine, and eating chocolate. I tried to will myself into mourning the relationship that I’d walked away from, thinking that I should be suffering for the emotional turmoil I’d caused Charles. That I should be crying and sobbing for the love that was no longer, for the good times and the bad, for the laughs and for the tears . . . But it wasn’t happening.
I knew what I truly wanted to do; the idea had been percolating from the moment my dad offered me the house in Monterey. So after three days of self-imposed sad sack I called my father and broached the idea of using some of the land to set up Our Gang. He was familiar with Lou’s name, since I’d told him about the organization when I first found out about it. And about how angry I was at Mother for not letting me participate. So when I mentioned Our Gang, he knew instantly what was involved. He supported the idea of me going to work with Lou, and I was pretty sure that’s what I wanted to do. But when it came to using the land, he wasn’t 100 percent sold.