Page 52 of Animal Instincts
Joss jumped, the sudden explosion of bitterness in Oliver’s words so acrid Joss could almost taste it.
“Donald was a way better businessman than he was a vet. He had a gift for monetising the practice. That’s how he described it. Monetising. All I was interested in was administering to the animals. I saw it as my calling. The business side of things, I left to Donald. It seemed to work, each of us playing to our strengths.
“Over time he persuaded me we needed additional services beyond treating ill and injured pets — animal psychology, massage, grooming — I could see the sense in things like that, but crystal therapies? Animal hypnosis? In my view, that was serious snake oil stuff and I said no. It caused a lot of friction.” Oliver huffed out a short, bitter laugh and shook his head.
“But that wasn’t the end of it…?”
A relationship that went bad.
Oliver said nothing, and Joss champed down on his lower lip as the silence stretched out between them.
“No,” Oliver said at last, “it wasn’t. So much for my noble belief it was all about caring for the animals. I was a hypocrite, because when I looked into how much we could charge, let’s say my resistance began to crumble.”
Wheeling, dipping and rising, riding the thermals, in the bright blue sky, gulls screeched, the only sound other than the hard, hard beat of Joss’ heart. He wanted Oliver to go on as much as he didn’t. His fingers dug into the grass, dirt packing under his nails.
“We added the therapies to our list of services. It was astounding. The clients were willing, eager almost, to pay through the nose. Soon, the business was growing faster than we could keep up, and we needed to take on more staff. And that’s when everything changed.”
“How…?” Joss’ words faded to nothing, as Oliver turned his gaze to him.
Flat and distant, Joss’ blood chilled, knowing it wasn’t him Oliver was seeing, but—
“Spencer.”
THIRTY
Spencer.
The name Joss had been waiting for, the name he’d wanted to know. It twisted in his gut, a jagged, rusty knife.
“He turned up one morning, out of the blue, reporting for work. He was our new animal care assistant. I knew nothing about it. I went wild. Not at him, but at Donald. He talked me round, like he’d done so many times.
“Donald said he knew him through another vet. Spencer had been unhappy where he was; he was qualified; he had good experience; if we didn’t snap him up a competitor would.Blah, blah, blah. The punters — Donald’s word for our clients, not mine — would love him.”
Oliver scrubbed his hands down his face and for seconds or minutes, Joss didn’t know, Oliver stared out over the ocean.
And what about you, Oliver? Did you love him too?
Joss bent his legs, and pulled his knees in close to his chest. He knew the answer, as the sharp tipped knife of jealousy over a man from Oliver’s past, a man he would never meet, dug down and cut into his heart
But it was me who asked, me who pried, me who wanted to know…
“Spencer was an asset to the practice, there’s no denying it.”
Joss jerked, as Oliver’s quiet words broke the silence.
“But it was more than that. He was dazzling, and so confident and sure of himself. It was as though I was a moth to his flame. He made me laugh and brought me out of myself. I was more relaxed about life, and somewhere along the line we began seeing each other; I’m not even sure who instigated it. It just — happened.”
“You were in a relationship with an employee—” Deep in his chest, Joss’ heart stumbled and stuttered.
“No, Joss. Don’t.” Oliver grabbed Joss’ hands, imprisoning them between his own. His gaze was ferocious in its intensity. “You and I, it’s nothing like it was with him. Don’t compare yourself in any way. Do you hear me?”
Oliver squeezed his hands so hard, Joss winced.
“How—how did it go wrong?” The words were glass in Joss’ throat.
Oliver released a long, deep breath. “I told you it was a sordid little story, didn’t I?” His eyes fixed on Joss. “He moved in with me. A bit like how we started seeing each other, it just sort of happened. We were serious, we had a long term future together. Or that’s what I thought. Life was good, I won’t lie to you, Joss, and say it wasn’t. My life, it felt solid, but I didn’t know I was really standing on shifting sand.”
“What do you mean?”
