“A pleasure. I’m Elizabeth, but only our grandmother calls me that.” She smiles.

I chuckle. “Noted.”

“Elle works with Dr. Wallen,” Maize explains. “Which is why I hardly ever see her anymore.”

“Yeah, well…” She inhales sharply. “We don’t call him Dr. Dickhead for nothing.”

My eyebrows raise in curiosity.

“Speak for yourself,” Maize chimes in. “The rest of us call him Dr. VetDreamy.” Maize chuckles, giving Elle a hard time, but the thought of her thinking he’s good-looking annoys the fuck outta me.

“Do not call him that,” Elle warns. “Just because he’s good-looking doesn’t take away the fact that he makes my work life miserable.”

“It can’t be that bad.” Maize waves her off.

“Not for you, maybe. You have a great view.” Elle smirks at me, and Maize gives her a dirty look.

Deciding to play along, I step next to Elle and wrap my arm around her. “Glad to see someone appreciates me ’round here.”

“Is Maize being rude to you?” she asks.

“If by that you mean she ignores and tells me off, or straight up groans any time I speak, then yeah, I guess so.” I shrug, giving Elle my best puppy dog face.

“Maize Bishop!” Elle scolds, folding her arms over her chest. “I know your mama taught you better than that. Be nice to the new trainer. He seems sweet.”

Maize perks a brow, and her nostrils flare with rage. “I’m plenty nice.”

“That’s you being nice?” My eyes widen with a grin. “Shit, I’d hate to get on your bad side then.”

“Keep talkin’, and you will be,” she snaps.

“Okay, I’m sensing some kind of…tension here, so I’m gonna go find me some pie,” Elle says, then quickly walks away.

“Unbelievable,” Maize mutters before storming off.

I don’t let her get too far before following her into the kitchen. “You ever gonna tell me what your problem with me is?” I ask as she grabs something from the fridge.

“My problem is you’re always around. I’m not interested, and you aren’t getting the memo.” She slams the door and turns to face me.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” I hold up my palms to stop her before she runs off. “You’re not interested? I didn’t ask you out or anything.” The last time I offered to take her on a date was a couple of months ago.

“I can read between the lines, and I’m good with body language.”

“Is that so? Enlighten me then. What am I insinuating?”

She sets down the container and puts her hands on her hips. “You’re intrigued by me and want to ask me out again even though I’ve given you a million signs I’d say no. Yet, here you are.”

“The only thing that intrigues me is you refusing to admit we’ve met before. Why is that?” I cross my arms.