Page 73 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

“She was a little subdued last night,” I say, suddenly realizing it.

Two pairs of eyes shift toward me.

“I had some friends over, and she played with them for a bit, but then she crashed on the couch and slept most of the night.”

Thorn frowns. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Something twists in my chest.

Because that sounds decidedly…accusatory.

“I, uh, just thought she was tired. I—” I bite my lip as he slips his hand from mine. “I didn’t realize…”

“Any chance she ate anything she shouldn’t have?” the vet asks.

I shake my head.

“Grapes or chocolate? Onions, garlic, alcohol?”

I shake my head again. “All of that was around but we were all careful with our plates because of Mia. My friend’s baby,” I explain when her eyebrows lift in question. “She’s in a grabbing stage so we were careful.”

The vet nods. “Onions or garlic can cause anemia, so we’ll keep an eye on that, but my guess is that it’s just a really bad bug she’s picked up.” She touches my arm. “It’ll be okay. She’s got fluids in her and has perked up already.”

“Right,” I whisper.

“Can I see her?”

My head whips to Thorn…and that muscle twitching in his cheek.

“Just for a few minutes,” the vet says, leading us through the door. “Then you guys should go home and rest. I’ll call you with updates.”

“Meow?” we hear when we get into the back and relief sweeps through me.

Violet’s eyes are open and though she’s got an IV in and purple wrap on her other leg, she starts purring when Thorn gentle strokes her under her chin.

I release a shaky breath.

“Meow.”

He chuckles softly and keeps scratching. I lightly rub her back, scratch the spot behind her ears that she likes.

We stay like that for a few minutes before some blood work comes back and they need to get back to work.

“Get better, little one,” he tells her. His eyes flick with mine. “I’ll check in with the front desk, make sure they have the right information.” Then he turns and walks out.

Unsettled, I give Violet one more scratch.

Then follow him.

He’s pocketing his wallet by the time I join him and a moment later, we’re walking out to his car.

“I’ll pay you back,” I whisper.

He stops, looks down at me. “What are you talking about?”

“I…” I bite my lip. “I didn’t see her eat anything, but it must have happened last night while the girls were over, so I’ll pay?—”

He reaches in front of me, opens the passenger side door. “I’m a billionaire, River. I can afford vet bills.”