Page 4 of Forget About Me

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” The dog flinches at my outburst. “Sorry, little guy, you’re okay.” Making sure he’s secured to the grooming table, I grab a dustpan and broom to clean up the shards of a test tube I just dropped.

Cindy, a fellow animal tech, pauses in the doorway. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just slippery fingers.” I do my best to sound normal. Unfortunately, my stupid body has chucked normal out the window. “Luckily, I dropped the test tubebeforeI filled it with blood.”

Cindy smirks as she leans into the room. “Still full of sexual tension after your up-close-and-personal with Ben Porter?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

How in the heck does Cindy know Ben’s name? Or about my history with him?

The petite redhead arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I’m talking about you in an exam room with Ben Porter.” She may as well end the sing-song sentence with K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

I dump the broken glass into the trash and stare at the swinging lid. “How do you know him?”

“Uh, any woman with a pulse knows him.” She points at me. “You picked up that chart out of turn. I assumed it was because you’re a fan. I mean, I don’t blame you. I’m just jealous.” She puts a hand on her chest and moans. “Those ads where he’s just wearing briefs? Oh my god.”

“What are you talking about?” We can’t be talking about the same person. My Ben studied theater, but he isn’t in underwear ads.

At least I don’t think so. I guess it’s possible. But… unlikely.

She narrows her baby-blue-shadowed eyes at me. “Are you saying you don’t know who Ben Porter is?”

“I know who he is. I grew up with him.” Puck whines. I put the dustpan away and return to his side. “Easy boy.” I blow out a breath to steady my hands, pick up a new test tube and set it carefully in its holder before picking up the hypodermic needle.

Cindy sidles in to hold the little dog for me, though he hasn’t moved. “You grew up with him?”

“Yeah, he lived on the block behind us.” I draw blood from the base of Puck’s neck, carefully set the sample inside the tube and discard the needle before massaging the spot. “Good boy.”

“So youknowhim know him. Is he gay? Everyone says he’s gay.”

“Ha-ha!” My blurt of nervous laughter earns me a strange look from Cindy. “No, I’m pretty sure he’s not gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just… never mind.” Setting the dog on the floor, images of Ben’s naked body tangled with mine storm through my mind. I have got to get myself under control. “Okay, boy, let’s see if we can get a fecal so we can find out how many worms you’ve got inside you.”

The promise of parasite-filled poop doesn’t seem to deter Cindy, who follows me out of the exam room.

“Really? Wow. So, do you still hang out with him? Do you have his phone number? Maybe he needs someone to bring this cutie home for him.”

I hold up my free hand. “Sorry. I only have his old number, and I doubt it’s still good. I haven’t seen him for a long time, and I have no idea where he lives now, not that we’re likely to start delivering pets back to their owners.”

“Jeez, calm down. I was just kidding.” She sticks out her lower lip in a pout. “I thought Deanna was the grouchy one and you were the nice one.”

Deanna’s the senior vet tech with over ten years at the practice. Cindy is brand new. I’m the Mama Bear in the middle, so I soften my tone. “I promise I’ll let you know if I find out anything. Right now, I’m taking Puck outside.”

“Puck? Is Ben a Bruins fan? Oh my god, I would so love to go to a hockey game with him!”

“Hold your horses, missy. It’s Puck after the character in a Shakespeare play.”

She slaps a hand to her forehead. “Buh doi! He’s in a Shakespeare play right now. He’s Romeo. Isn’t that so rad?”

“I thought you said he was an underwear model. How do you know so much about him?”

She rolls her eyes. “I can read, duh.”

My face must make my confusion clear.

“He’s been in all the big magazines.Teen,Tiger Beat,Bop. EvenPeople.” She says the last in a reverent whisper, and I have to stifle a laugh. Her delivery’s so dramatic, she’s the one who should be onstage. “The story of how he got started is choice. He was an intern at this big agency in Los Angeles and just, like, getting people coffee or something when Callum Keen saw him and was like, I wantthat guy. And the rest is history. He’s been modeling ever since.” She grabs my arm. “And he was in our waiting room. I cannot wait to tell my friends. They are gonna freak.”

The bell sounds, indicating that a tech is needed to handle another patient. I tip my head in the direction of the exam rooms.

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