Page 72 of Animal Instincts
“There is no friendship, and there can never be. I think it best if you go and, this time, not come back.”
“I thought, now some time has passed and things have settled we could all be…” Spencer shrugged, as a regretful smile twisted his lips. “But clearly not. It’s good to see you’ve made a new life for yourself, in this little village. Although I expect it must be very quiet after London.”
Oliver didn’t bother acknowledging the dig.
“I have. Life is just how I like it.”
“Ah, yes. Of course.” Spencer smirked. “Your rose tinted dreams of the life of a country vet. I hope it all works out for you, I really do. Just make sure you don’t go and spoil it.”
“Spoil it?” Oliver glowered at Spencer. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
“By being selfish, and not thinking of anybody but yourself. If you don’t want to lose him, you’ll have to give him a lot more than you ever gave me.”
“Selfish? What’s that supposed to mean? I was never selfish where you were concerned. I gave you everything you asked for — everything youdemanded— and all you did was betray me.”
Spencer laughed, but it was harsh and bitter, and he shook his head.
“Materially, yes. You were generous, I’ll never deny that. But you were mean and miserly where it really mattered—”
“What the fuck do you mean by—?”
“I was ambitious for the practice, I had vision. But did you ever listen to me? Did you ever give me a chance?”
“If you mean introducing more questionable treatments—”
“No, not that. All that stuff, that’s Donald and you know it. They’re just fads and they’ll drop away. But didn’t I try to talk to you, so many times, about improving the business? About introducing the practice’s own brand of animal care products? About expansion? About all the things that would take the brand you’d both worked hard to create beyond one practice, no matter how successful it was?”
“Brand? I was a vet, not a marketing opportunity. I trained long and hard to make sick animals well again. That was all I was interested in, and still am.”
“And why would a bigger, more successful business have interfered with that? You were a vet first and foremost, and I understood. Why would I have tried to change that? I could have taken care of business development and—”
“Business development? Jesus Christ, you were just an animal care assistant, not bloody Alan Sugar.”
The blood drained from Spencer’s face.
“Justan animal care assistant?” Spencer’s voice was so quiet, Oliver had to strain to hear. “Well, that’s put me in my place, hasn’t it? And not for the first time. Not that beingjust an animal care assistantis still who I am. Maybe it’s as well we fell apart at the seams, because if we’d have stayed together that’s what I’d be still, all my ambition and drive and dreams of a better future thwarted and suffocated. You were selfish, Oliver, and if you’re honest with yourself you’ll admit it.”
“Honest? You don’t know the meaning of the word. We fell apart because you lied and screwed around. It’s as simple as that.”
Spencer threw his arms up. “Yes. Guilty as charged. But perhaps you should take a moment to ask yourself why.”
“I don’t need to ask myself anything, not where you’re concerned. I want you to go, Spencer. Now. And never, ever come back here.”
At the door, his hand on the latch, Spencer looked back over his shoulder.
“Joss. That’s his name, isn’t it?”
“What? Yes.”
Spencer’s question, just before he stepped out of Oliver’s life for good, caught him off guard.
“He’s cute. There’s something of the wounded puppy about him — although he’s clearly got a bite. You talked about history repeating itself, but that doesn’t only apply to you and me, does it? You should be careful about your current situation.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Spencer tutted and rolled his eyes. “He’s your employee. Your much younger employee. There were a few years between you and me, but he can’t be more than a teenager—”
“He’s twenty-two. I don’t like what you’re implying.”
