A Vet for the Alpha

Chapter 2: Oh, Man

Alec

'What a man, what a man, what a man,

What a mighty good man'

My brain shouted the refrain inside my head, in En Vogue's glorious harmony, of Salt 'N' Pepa's "Whatta Man".

Yes, brain, I think condescendingly, mentally poking myself. Harshly. A. Man.

Between all the remodeling and repairs that I had to get completed over the last two months since purchasing this veterinarian's practice, mostly managed from over two-thousand miles away, I still haven't hired a receptionist. The clinic has been open for two weeks now, and the bane of my newfound existence is sitting across from the reception desk. Grinning at me.

Christopher Barnes.

The overbearing giant is settled in one of the newly purchased waiting room chairs, a simple black and metal job. This man must be at minimum, six and a half feet, and every inch is hard lean muscle. It's really a testament to the chair's stability that it didn't snap in half when he sat down.

I know for a fact that Mr. Barnes has the body of a successful Instagram model because the first morning I met him, he'd been jogging in nothing but skimpy, dark blue shorts. This manimal doesn't even run in trainers, I mean, who does that?

I first looked into this small but long-established practice at the advice of the head veterinarian at the animal hospital in Madison I'd been at for the past three years. Dr. Vincent had attended school in Seattle, ending up at an internship here in the small, close-knit community of Shady Woods. When he heard that Dr. Gaines was retiring and wanting to sell the practice he passed the information onto me.

It's been my lifelong dream to running my own practice, taking care of animals. My main goal since I was eighteen. After high school, I worked hard in my studies to graduate with honors and landing a position at the animal hospital in Wisconsin.

Planning. I learned a long time ago that I need to make my own plans. Since then, I've been entirely focused and now is supposed to be my time to focus on ensuring this giant step I've taken is successful. Everything I have has been put into this place.

The small clinic takes up the ground floor and needed some refurbishment. Along with new chairs, the reception area received a new desktop and updated software for a client database and patient care. The old counter-height desk, a large and wooden original structure, is still feasible, but was stripped down and re-stained.

Fresh, light blue commercial-grade floors were put in throughout the entire clinic, as years of feet, paws and nervous pets had taken their toll on the old flooring. A cleaning crew had come in just before I arrived, scrubbing down everything from the large glass windows of the front all the way back to the surgical unit.

Each exam room was updated with adjustable-height stainless steel tables. Most of the supplies were contracted into the purchase of the place. Aside from two exam rooms and an office off of reception, the back end of the practice is divided into a surgical unit that's large enough for even farm animals and a smaller care ward, equipped with cages and crates, as well as tanks for small animals.

I'd hired contractors and checked in with video calls to complete all of the work. With the heavy cost of repairs, it was a blessing the small apartment that made up the second level was part of the deal. You have to go outside and use the stairs around the side of the building and the vet said he used it himself when he first opened up. It was sparse and worn but no big damage. It was even clean when I moved in with my little amount of furniture and boxes, thanks to the cleaning crew.