Read Online Mai Tai'd Up by Alice Clayton - Free Book Online Page A

blowing in off the sea that I could taste even up here in the hills, today was looking like a great day. Especially if I could find some killer donuts.
    T urns out the killer donuts are located at Red’s Donuts, and as my mouth can tell you, they are delightful. Especially the kind with the maple frosting. I may have had three. Which may be closer to four. Okay, truth time. Four and a half—but that’s all.
    Stopping after I could practically see the food baby I was creating, I headed for the grocery store I’d passed the night before. I thought I’d leave the GPS off and try to navigate on my own, which wound up getting me lost within three turns. Twenty minutes later, I pulled over into a parking lot to turn my GPS back on to lead me to the grocery store. As I tried to remember the name of the store, I looked around, hoping to get my bearings.
    And there, right in front of me, was a building with a sign that said Campbell Veterinary Hospital.
    Options.
    Lou had said he’d email this Dr. Campbell, but who knows when that would actually happen? I’d probably have to make an appointment, though; it’d be rude to just pop in . . .
    Options.
    Fudge it, I was going in. I checked my face, reapplied my lip gloss, and headed inside. The parking lot I was in must have been on the side, because as I rounded the corner I realized the building was enormous. Giant windows, big friendly pictures of dogs and cats, and special parking slots for “Pet Emergencies.”
    As I went through the automatic door, my nose was immediately met by the smell of disinfectant, butterscotch candies, and good old-fashioned doggie breath. The warm and inviting waiting room was packed with all manner of adults, kids, and dogs and cats. A German shepherd played with a dachshund in the corner, while three cats in a carrier explained to everyone why it was a crime against nature that they’d been brought here.
    It was pretty crowded; maybe this wasn’t such a good idea today. I’d call when I got back—
    “May I help you?” A voice coated in southern charm pierced through my waffling, and I approached the desk. And saw quite possibly the brightest polyester pantsuit ever created. An almost electrically charged aquamarine blue, it was something Sally O’Malley would kick—and streeetch—and kick to get her hands on. An actual beehive, at least four inches of teased and twirled brunette fluff, was stacked on top of her head, a head that had eyelids full of an iridescent blue eye shadow almost exactly the same shade as the pantsuit. Stripes of what can only be called rouge (I’d blush to call it blush) accented plump cheeks, pointing down to a cherry-red glossy mouth curved in a welcoming smile. And on her ample bosom? A rhinestone-bedazzled name tag proclaiming her to be Marge.
    “Hi there, sugar, step right up. I don’t bite,” she cooed.
    A disembodied voice from behind a row of filing cabinets shouted, “That’s not true!”
    “Shush!” she ordered, then waved me forward. “You pay him no attention, sweetheart. Now, what can I do for you?”
    “Well, I don’t have an appointment, but—”
    “Or an animal,” she said, looking over the counter to peer down and make sure that I did in fact not have a pet. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall, so it was quite a lot for her to lean, and as she did, I marveled at the beehive. It didn’t move, not even when she was half upside down. She righted herself, then looked at me expectantly, still with the friendliest smile I’d ever seen.
    “No, ma’am, no pet. I wanted to see if Dr. Campbell might be available?”
    “Which one did you want? What is this about?” she asked.
    “My friend Lou mentioned that Dr. Campbell would be a good person to talk to about pit bulls. Or rather, rescuing them. I probably should have called—”
    “Wait, Lou. You mean Lou Fiorello?” she asked.
    “Yes, Lou Fiorello mentioned that Dr. Campbell would be a good person to speak to about a shelter