12. Adrian

I scribble my signature on the last chart in my stack, then drop it in the completed pile with a satisfying thwop. I've been here since 7:30 a.m., getting here half an hour earlier than I normally would so I could prepare myself for the almost dozen drop off appointments we had scheduled for today. Usually, we try to spread them out, but our lab technician Michael was out sick yesterday, so those appointments got pushed to today. I don't mind too much, though. After the anxiety-inducing evening I had waiting for primary results of a state that I don't even vote in, it's been nice to only have to interact with animals and Michael, who also generally prefers minimal human contact.

However, I could use some coffee. I only slept for about six hours since Casey and Sophie didn't leave my apartment until close to midnight. I check the time and notice I have about forty minutes until my next patient is scheduled to arrive, which means I don't have to suffer through the awful coffee the break room coffee maker brews. So before anyone can steal my attention, I grab my stack of charts and head to the front desk to drop them off with the receptionist.

I go to open the door leading from the back area to the front and stop short as I hear Sophie and what sounds like Casey's laughter. Sure enough, as I push through the door, I see Casey leaning against the front counter, petting Felix, the clinic cat, and talking to Sophie. They're both drinking some sort of frappe monstrosity that is likely more sugar than caffeine despite it only being late March and still relatively cold out.

At the sound of the door swishing closed, Sophie spins in her chair. "Oh good, you're here. I was just about to come and get you," she says before taking a sip of her glorified milkshake.

"Hey, I brought coffee." Casey gestures to the (thankfully) hot to-go cup sitting on the counter next to where Felix sprawls out demanding attention. Well, at least now I don't have to go out.

I drop the stack of charts in the bin next to the computer, then round the counter to grab my coffee. "Thanks, but what are you doing here? Don't you have work?"

"Dr. Helvig is out at a scene, and I'm waiting for the lab to finish running some samples, so I'm taking an early, long lunch," he explains.

"Ooh, you have another case?" Sophie asks excitedly. Casey's job as a forensic anthropologist has always fascinated her, even before the head of his department started pulling him in to work on the FBI consultation cases.

"Yeah, but you know I can't tell you anything until the case is closed," he says, earning a frown. "Besides, even if I could, that's not what I'm here to talk about."

He turns his attention to me. "It's time we talk about your birthday."

"Must we?" I grumble.

"Yes, we must," Sophie exclaims.

"We put it off until after the primaries because we knew you wouldn't be able to think about anything else until that wasn't hanging over your head, but now…"

"What is there to even talk about? It's just you two and my parents going out for dinner like we did last year," I say.

"And Jeremy," Sophie adds.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Casey's hand flex on his cup, which I get. Compared to my general dislike of Sophie's boyfriend, Casey outright hates him. I would say it's jealousy, but our mutual dislike of Jeremy goes back well before Casey started having feelings for Sophie. I don't think he'll have to worry, though. If I were a gambling man, I would put money on Jeremy canceling at the last minute.

"Well, that's the thing," Casey starts. "That was the plan before you got a boyfriend."

I glance around before dropping my voice to a murmur. "A fake boyfriend," I correct him.

"Yes, but your parents don't know that, do they?" he points out.

I bite the inside of my cheek. He's right. They don't know that what I have with Jamie isn't real. I hate that I'm lying to them, but when we discussed ground rules, we thought that the fewer people that know the truth, the better. And since my best freinds already knew, I decided my parents didn't need to. Now, that decision seems to bite me in the ass, though, because I can already see where he is going with this.

"So we thought maybe we could make a proper party out of it and invite Jamie," he continues.

"No," I say firmly.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Casey says, grinning while he nudges me with an elbow.

"It'll just be at your apartment, so nothing fancy. Don't worry," Sophie adds.

Too late. Although, to be fair, I'm not worried about the location of the party as much as I am the fact that, a) there's a party at all, and b) that I'd be introducing someone to my parents for the first time, and it's not even a real relationship.

"You know your parents are going to ask why your boyfriend isn't celebrating your birthday with you," he says.

It's times like these when I'm not always thankful for Casey's uncanny ability to tell exactly what I'm thinking. "I'll just tell them he had to be back in his district," I say.

"To which they will probably wonder what kind of man their son is dating that he can't even set aside time to celebrate his boyfriend's birthday," he counters.

"He's right," Sophie says. "Besides, we want to meet him."

"But why?"

"He's going to be in your life until at least December. So, are you going to invite him, or do I have to?" Casey asks.

"How would you even get in contact with him?" I ask.

"Social media. Or, it's not like I don't know where he works, so I could just call his office—"

"No," I interrupt. "You will not bother Riley to invite her boss to a birthday party. I'll do it."

"Who's Riley?" Sophie asks. "Is that his friend that was at the bar with him?"

"No, that was Mina, his press secretary. Riley is his office assistant. I met her when I went to his office," I explain.

"Oh, well, you should also invite Mina," she says. "From what you've said, she sounds awesome, and we could use more female energy in this friend group."

I open my mouth to argue that I'm perfectly content with the size of our existing friend group, but the bell above the front door rings, putting an end to our conversation. I turn toward the door and smile when I see Kelly, from District Pets Rescue, the rescue I've been volunteering with for the last two years.

"Hey Kelly, I didn't know you were coming in." I look down and notice the shaggy brown dog on a leash next to her. "And who is this?"

"This is Pumpernickel," she answers. "He's a little skittish, but I think he'll be a real sweetheart once he's in a proper home. I called about half an hour ago and talked to someone named Sophie who said to come on in."

"Oh, shoot, that's me. Sorry Adrian," she says with a grimace. "I took the call just as I was taking over for Carol so she could take lunch. I knew you had a gap in your schedule and meant to tell you, but then my attention got pulled elsewhere."

She's being purposefully vague since a patient is here, but I can guess with almost certainty that Casey is the reason for the distraction.

I give her a reassuring smile, knowing she's probably going to beat herself up about the miscommunication. "Don't worry about it, Soph. I have—" I glance down at my watch — "about a half an hour until my next appointment so I can fit Pumpernickel in. Did you do any intake over the phone when Kelly called?"

"Yes, I remembered to do that. I even printed it out. Hold on," she says.

While she searches the desk for the file, I crouch down and slowly hold out a hand for Pumpernickel to approach in his own time. Kelly seemed accurate in her assessment of his skittishness because once I crouch down, he hides slightly behind her leg. But after a few seconds of sizing me up, he takes a few tentative steps toward me and sniffs my hand.

"Hey, there. That's a good boy," I murmur to the dog when he presses his wet nose against my knuckles. Slowly, I open my hand and scratch beneath his chin, earning a soft whine. "So where did he come from?" I ask Kelly.

"A shelter in Virginia. There was some serious overcrowding, and I think some of the other dogs were bullying him. I didn't notice any injuries when I picked him up, but he looks a little underweight to me, so either the staff wasn't feeding him properly or the other dogs were bullying him off the food," she explains.

"Oh, poor baby," Sophie says, slowly rounding the counter.

Pumpernickel's eyes immediately dart to her, but he doesn't hide, which is a good sign. I stand, and she approaches slowly, handing the file to me. Then she drops to a similar crouch and smiles at the dog.

A lot quicker than he warmed up to me, Pumpernickel pads over to her and rests his head on her knee.

"He seems to prefer women over men," Kelly says.

"Hi sweet boy. Aren't you handsome? Yes, you are," she coos. Then she looks up at me. "Do you want me to take him back and weigh him?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

She nods, then stands and holds her hand out to Kelly for the leash. "Come on, Pumpernickel. Let's go on an adventure. Case, I'll text you later. Thanks for the coffee!"

"No problem," he says, giving her a smile that turns slightly wistful as she turns her back and heads toward one of the exam rooms.

"So, how is the operations center opening going?" I ask.

Kelly's shoulders slump. "It's looking like it won't happen anytime soon. The city rejected our grant proposal."

"But I thought it was basically a done deal."

"So did we. The worst part is that the grants office isn't returning our calls, so we don't even know why the proposal was rejected." She sighs. "And without the grant, we'd have to raise the money ourselves, which will take years."

I frown. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Do you have an in with the DC mayor's office?" she asks sarcastically.

"No, unfortunately I don't," I say with a frown.

"He is dating a congressman, though," Casey offers with a grin.

I shoot him a narrowed look.

"Oh, I didn't know you were seeing someone," Kelly exclaims. "And a congressman—wait, you wouldn't happen to be talking about that congressman from North Carolina, would you? Oh, shoot, what's his name? I was just reading the interview he did with District Buzz."

"Jamie Montgomery," I supply. Then, before she even has the chance to bring up the photos or anything else about our news scandal, I continue on. "I'm not sure how much help he'll be with DC funding, but perhaps he knows someone who could help."

Kelly sighs in relief. "Honestly, even if he just knows someone who knows someone, that would be an enormous help. Otherwise, I'm afraid this intake center will never get off the ground."

"I'll ask him," I promise.

"Thank you," she says sincerely, then she looks at her watch. "Okay, well, unfortunately, I have to run to meet up with the fosters taking Pumpernickel. Will you be able to hold him until I can come back with them?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Great, thank you!" She gives me a wave, then quickly turns and rushes out the door.

Once she's gone, I glare at Casey.

He simply grins and takes a sip of his sugar coma beverage. "What? Jamie said that he owes you a favor. Oh, and now you can kill two birds with one stone—ask for his help with the rescue intake center and invite him to your birthday."

"Okay, you know what? I can't deal with this right now. I have to go back to work," I say as I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Yeah, I probably should, too," he says, pushing off the counter. "Enjoy your coffee."

"Thanks," I grumble. With Pumpernickel's file tucked under my arm, I grab the coffee off the counter, then reach around to grab Sophie's, too, so I can put it in the fridge for her. Once I'm in the break room, I take a moment to drain the last of my coffee, then pull my phone out of my scrub pocket to draft a quick text to Jamie before heading to the exam room to look at Pumpernickel.