Page 3 of Bi-Partisan

“But—”

“Sleep, Jamie. Food and sleep.”

I sigh, but ultimately give in, leaning over to shut my laptop and turn off my desk lamp. Mina gives me a satisfied nod and gestures for me to exit my private office first, like she’s afraid I’ll double back and sneak some paperwork under my blazer if she takes her eyes off me for a second. We walk toward the front of the office suite, her shutting off lights on our way, then stop at the coatrack by the door to bundle up to prepare for the bitter cold now that it’s late January and DC has finally decided that it’s winter. I help her into her coat out of the gentlemanly reflex my mom drilled into me from as early as I can remember, then slip into my own.

As we’re leaving, I catch her elbow. “Hey,” I start, wanting to thank her for, well, everything. But she shakes her head before I can continue, clearly able to read my mind.

“Yeah, I know,” she says with a soft smile. Then she loops her arm through mine, flicks off the last of the office lights, and pulls me toward the door.

Chapter 2

Adrian

Song: Here – Alessia Cara

I open the exam room door slowly, careful to block the opening of the door so the border collie I just finished giving an ultrasound can’t escape. Usually I wouldn’t worry too much about an almost-to-term dog carrying at least five puppies having the agility to get past me. However, despite her condition, Kiwi is energetic and quite the escape artist, having gotten past a vet tech and into the back area at least twice that I’ve been witness to.

Thankfully, Kiwi’s owner comes to the rescue, swiftly grabbing her collar and attaching a lead to it. “Sorry,” she exclaims, and I give the woman an understanding smile.

“No worries. Don’t hesitate to give us a call if you have any questions, and we will see you when the puppies arrive,” I say.

“Thank you, Dr. Wilks.”

I bend to give the dog a quick pat on the head, then back out of the room and quickly close the door.

“So is Kiwi really pregnant again?” a voice asks from behind me, making me jump and nearly drop the chart in my hand.

I immediately recognize it to be Sophie’s, one of the vet technicians and one of the handful of people I consider a friend. Okay, one of two people, the other being my best friend of nearly eighteen years, Casey. But people make me anxious. There’s a reason I went into veterinary medicine rather than human medicine. Animals are predictable for the most part. I can’t say the same about most people. Case in point, Sophie’s unfortunate habit of sneaking up on me and scaring me half to death.

After taking a quick deep breath to calm my fight or flight response, I slide the chart in the pocket on the door for a tech to pick it up.

“Yup, about six weeks along, give or take. So only a couple more weeks to go,” I say as I make a beeline to the break room because I’m well overdue for my lunch break. I usually take my lunch a lot earlier in the day, but one of the other veterinarians called out because their kid is home sick with the flu, so I’ve had to split their appointments with the other doctor on shift today.

“How many puppies this time?” Sophie asks, a hint of forced innocence in her voice.

“I’m not telling you what I saw on the ultrasound. I learned my lesson after last time,” I say. “Besides, you know ultrasounds aren’t guaranteed to be accurate.”

“I know that, but you are still always right. It’s like you have a sixth sense. Also, I split the winnings with you last time, so I don’t know why you’re complaining,” she points out.

Apparently, every time a cat or dog comes in pregnant, the vet techs bet on the litter size. Since the doctors aren’t included in the pool, and Sophie is the only person at the clinic I talk to in a more than superficial way, I didn’t know about it. So the last time she’d asked about a pregnant dog’s litter size—a different dog, not Kiwi—I didn’t hesitate to tell her. “Yes, which is exactly why the other assistants were mad at me,” I counter.

“They were not mad at you,” she scoffs.

“They were.” I go to my cubby and grab my coat to put it on, but before I can put my arm through the sleeve, Sophie stops me.

“Oh, wait! Sorry, I forgot why I came to find you because I was distracted by puppies. I need you to see another patient—a walk in,” she says.

I can’t help groaning. “Oh, come on, Soph, really? I was supposed to be on my lunch break an hour ago.”

Sophie frowns apologetically. “I know, but Dr. Rivers has appointments until three. It’s just a general exam. Oh, and a feline HIV test and a rabies booster.”

I sigh and put my coat back on the hook. “Stray?”

The way she immediately perks up lets me know she’s about to give me way more information about a patient’s backstory than I probably need. Normally, I don’t mind because it’s one of the endearing things about her. She’s bubbly, a little quirky, and one of the kindest and most compassionate people I’ve ever met. It’s what makes her one of the best vet techs I’ve ever worked with. People and animals just open up to her.

Plus, I genuinely love my job, so I enjoy getting to know my patients well. However, it’s a little less endearing when I’ve been seeing patients nonstop since this morning and skipped breakfast. I let her go on, anyway.

“Okay, so a woman came in—Ashley, you’ve seen her cat Stanley before. Orange tabby with the little white socks, very friendly.”

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