Page 50 of Bourbon Bliss
I grabbed a pen off the counter behind me and handed it to him.
He rewarded me with that dimply grin of his. “Thanks.”
Another throat-clear from Andrea. She opened a file and flipped through a few pages. “Here.”
George signed.
Andrea flipped through a few more. “Here.”
He signed again.
I glanced over at Mellow’s cage. “She’s out of water.”
“What’s that?” George asked as he signed another document.
“Mellow doesn’t have any water.” The cage was nearest to me, so I scooted it closer. I wasn’t familiar with Mellow’s feeding schedule, but there was no sign of food. More bothersome, in my opinion, was the bone-dry water bottle.
“Uh oh, little one. Are you thirsty?” George held her up to his face again. “Can you get her some water, Andrea? That should be kept full at all times.”
Andrea rolled her eyes as she stood. “She’s fine.”
I unhooked the water bottle and handed it to Andrea. Our eyes met and there was no mistaking the flash of heat in her gaze. She took the bottle to the sink.
George thumbed through the paperwork while Andrea refilled Mellow’s water. It bothered me that he wasn’t reading what he was signing. That was on my list of things you never do. Right up there with drinking more than one cup of Sonny Fullson’s peach cobbler moonshine or sticking a fork in a light socket. The kind of thingeveryoneknows you should avoid.
Andrea got the water bottle reattached and George gently set Mellow in her cage. She scurried to the spout and drank.
“Poor little nugget,” George said. “You were thirsty.”
It bothered me deeply that Andrea had let Mellow run out of water, although logically, I didn’t understand why. Was it simply that the animal’s needs hadn’t been met? “A domesticated animal should always have a supply of water. They lack the capacity to communicate their needs to the humans responsible for their care.”
“I realize pets need water,” Andrea said.
“She looks all right,” George said.
Andrea collected the files and put them back in her bag. “I have a long drive. Unless you need me to find a pet store to get her food, I should go.”
Even I could hear the sarcasm in her tone. But George didn’t seem to.
“No, I’ll handle it. Thanks for bringing her out, Andrea. Appreciate it.”
Andrea’s eyes flicked between me and George again. “No problem. It’s my job.”
George stood and walked her out. I waited at the table, watching Mellow drink. When she finally stopped, she seemed happier. Which was probably a figment of my imagination, as I didn’t think rabbits could express human emotions.
“What do you think?” George asked. “Isn’t she a sweetheart?”
“No, your assistant exhibits no qualities that would justify calling her sweet.”
He laughed. “No, I mean Mellow.”
“Oh, then yes, she’s exceedingly sweet.”
“I let her run around at home, so I just need to bunny-proof a little bit. Then we can let her out.”
I followed George into the living room. He started pulling cords off the floor and picked up a scrap of paper that had fallen.
“What did Andrea have you sign?”
