Page 119 of Spiced!

“I—oh!” Jacks picked up his water glass and guzzled. “Okay. I—yeah. Adrian’s giraffe. Right. Okay.”

“He’s a vet,” Benji said, to nobody in particular. “He should be very skilled in handling long necks and such, excellent bedside manner.”

Rod snorted.

“Wait,” Jacks said, his face morphing back into its normally confused state.

“Yes, Jacks?” Benji asked.

“I thought Adrian referred to, um, it as an anaconda, not a giraffe.”

Rod barked a laugh.

Benji turned away and spit his drink.

I covered my face with both hands.

“What?” Jacks asked in complete sincerity.

“Both are accurate, from what I’ve gathered through years of standing beside him shaking the thing,” Benji said. “The only question remaining is how the vet handles his python.”

“Benji!” I huffed.

“Sorry,” Benji amended. “Bedside manner conversation. He’s a doctor, remember?”

“Jesus, Benji,” I said.

“Gentle with the nervous fawns, is he?”

“I will leave.”

“You won’t,” he said. “The meeting isn’t until noon.”

“I will stand outside until noon.”

“It’s November,” he said. “It’s sixty-eight degrees. You’ll be fine.”

Rod, from the doorway, added, “His giraffe shrink. Poor neck.”

Benji burst out laughing.

“Neck?” Jacks said, his nose scrunching.

“I hate you all,” I said. “Not you, Jacks. You’re adorable.”

“Aw, thanks,” Jacks said. “You’re adorable, too, in a hot dancer kinda way.”

This had Benji doubled over.

Rod vanished from the doorway, though I was fairly certain I heard him laughing from the kitchen.

I finished my Fanta in the time it took Benji to compose himself. Rod had returned and was munching one of my pastries from the day before. Jacks, well, he was still standing there, sipping his water, probably wondering why I had a giraffe and where I kept it. Bless him.

“Your vet brings you coffee?” Rod asked between bites.

“Yes,” I said cautiously.

“He sits, watches you work?” Rod asked.