It’d probably serve me right to have him die right here in front of me in my morgue. God, that story would make the rounds in an instant.

Despite whatever stare down moment Blake and I are having, Holly is having none of it. She not only stops spinning in my chair but leaps from it to come to my side and smack my ass.

“What the ever-loving actual fuck, Zoey? An accident? That is the sort of thing that requires an immediate phone call. Friend Code 101. Are you okay? Really okay?” She scans me from head to toe, looking for anything amiss as she lifts my left arm and then right, scalpel and all.

“I’m fine,” I say reassuringly as I shrug her off. Believing me, she whirls on Blake. “You’re that guy . . . ‘Call me, Blake Hale, today at (555) 917-LIFE.’ Aren’t you?”

“How do you know his number?” The words pop off my tongue before I even realize I’ve thought them.

Holly’s answering smile is pure evil, decadently reveling in whatever plot she’s cooking up. “His commercials, of course. Mr. Hale here is a life insurance guy, and you’re a death dealer.” She holds a hand up to stop the argument she knows is coming. I hate when she calls me that even if I’m the one who said it first during a drunken, tearful breakdown shortly after Grandpa died.

“You two are a match made in heaven if there ever were one. Especially considering the wreck didn’t kill him,” she adds sassily, knowing how touchy I am about my history from that same drunken conversation. Flipping back around as though she’s a tennis ref, she gives me her back and focuses on Blake once again. “I’m Holly, the bestest of the besties. So start talking, what paperwork?”

Blake has the good sense to look confused as hell by whatever he’s walked into. I’m not surprised. Holly has that effect on people. I do too. But the reminder about whatever brought him here draws his focus back to me. “You haven’t done the paperwork on the accident, so the county office is giving me the runaround about the claim. I need it done . . . now.”

I bristle at his bossy tone. “Kinda busy at the moment.” I wave my gloved hands around, gesturing to Chad.

Sorry, man. It’s not usually this crazy here.

All good, this is more interesting than what I’ve got going on now, anyway. If I could, I’d be munching on popcorn right now.

My brow quirks at Chad’s insolence.