“You should’ve said something—”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done and I will have my full say before you get to jump in, Doc.”

“Fine. Go on.”

“Even when I take time off, you do not. Not one time in nine years. You have all the calls transferred to your cell phone, so when I’m not in the office it’s actually twice as much work for you.”

“That’s part of the gig since I own my own business.” Why was she telling him something he already knew? “Besides, I’m not the vacationing type.”

She stabbed her bony finger at him. “How can you know you’re not the vacationing type if you’ve never tried it?”

He’d started to get a bad feeling about this discussion, beyond the fear she might be handing in her resignation. “You do have a point to all this nagging, right?”

Rather than skewering him with a haughty look at his snappish response, she laughed. It sounded a little mean, which scared him, quite frankly. “I wish I was going to be around to see how you handle it, Dr. Smarty-pants.”

“Handle what?”

“Your vacation.”

Had he somehow missed the signs that she’d started going senile? “Cora. You’re confused. I’m not taking a vacation.”

Cora crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, yes, you are. Remember a few weeks back when I brought up my vacation request form and you told me to do whatever I wanted? I did.”

“What? I never said that!”

“Hah! You did so and I have the recording on my iPhone if you’d like to hear it.”

Shit.

“I filled out the vacation request and told you to read it. Several times. I can tell by the blank expression on your face you didn’t bother—even when you assured me on several occasions when I’ve specifically asked, that you had indeed read the document.”

Fletch nervously ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll admit I didn’t read it. But I didn’t need to, because you’ve always scheduled your time off over a summer holiday so you can maximize the vacation days. And you take a few nonpaid days. I’m good with that.”

Her lips stretched into a smile. “Excellent. Because I’m taking a few more nonpaid days than I usually do.”

“How many?”

“Thirty-five.”

“What?”

“On Wednesday I’m leaving on a six-week trip to Europe. And while I set up my time off, I cleared your schedule for six weeks. The mail has been stopped. The bills have been paid. The standard medical deliveries have been suspended. The answering service has been switched over. Dr. Arneson, Dr. Anderson and Dr. Eriksen are covering your calls. All your calls. I didn’t see a need to put out a memo to your clients that you’ll be on vacation because we both know they’d try to contact you at home.”

“Cora. What the—”

She raised her hand to stop his protest. “You’ve covered for your colleagues for the last seven years. They’ve all three managed to take at least two full weeks off every year in their practices. So by their estimation—not mine—they each owe you a week of reciprocity for every year. We’re talking twenty-one weeks. Since it is the slow season, it was no problem for them to step up to the plate and each take two weeks as payback. So you’re also on vacation for six weeks.”

Fletch knew his jaw hung to the floor. Who did she think she was arbitrarily deciding he needed a vacation? This was his business. She was his employee. She didn’t have the right to make that decision.

“I recognize the anger in your eyes, Dr. Fletcher. Before you start bellowing at me, I’ll remind you that I am your office manager. Not just some floozy secretary. I’ve been with you since the beginning of your career. In the last year I’ve started to see signs that scare me. You’re snappish. You are skating very close to burnout. You have no life outside the care you give other people’s animals.” Sadness filled her eyes and she lifted her chin. “You’re a good man. And a fine vet. But you need to find some balance in your life.”

“So you’re forcing the issue?” he said testily. “Forcing me to find balance?”

“Yes. And this will tick you off even more when I tell you that I discussed this with your father. He agreed with me the only way to get you to see the importance of making changes in your life was to stage an intervention.” Cora hit the intercom button on the phone. “Bruce? You can come out now.”

Fletch whirled around to see his dad amble in from the operating room. Another shock rolled through him when he stood next to Cora. “You’re in on this too?”

“Yes. Cora has been worried about you for some time. As have I. We’ve discussed it several times. Since you constantly brush both our concerns aside we joined forces.”

“Listen, Dad—”

“No, you listen.”

Yikes. Fletch hadn’t heard that sharp parental tone in years.

“This is a done deal. You’re officially on vacation. Drastic measures were necessary, but the only ones who know we had to force this time off on you are the three of us in this room. As far as your colleagues and clients are concerned, you’re taking a scheduled break. As your office manager, I just handled all the details and set it up.”

“Did you set up a vacation package for me too?” he demanded.

“God forbid we’d ever presume that much,” Cora said with a sniff.