“That’s because you haven’t.”

“Pizza? Beer?”

“Yes pizza, no beer. I’m still on call.”

“Ouch. Pizza it is, then.” Angie waved her hand toward an open box and a stack of paper plates. She’d put on more clothes than she usually wore around the house, thanks to the presence of her employees, but she’d paired her work polo with yoga pants and a pair of thick wool socks Morgan recognized as her own.

“Nice socks.”

“You’re welcome for doing your laundry.”

Morgan couldn’t argue with that. She’d been too busy the last month to do more than brush her teeth. The clinic desperately needed to hire another large animal vet, or at least someone comfortable working in a mixed practice.

“You’re late.” Stevie flung an arm around her shoulders and shoved a beer in her hand.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Course you’re not. Don’t worry. I drank half of it for you.”

Morgan eyed the can of beer. She wanted nothing more than to relax. Maybe half a beer wouldn’t kill her. It wasn’t like she’d, say, downed half a bottle of wine and fallen out of her boat. A vivid image of Emilia’s brown eyes filled her vision.

“Fine,” she said, taking a sip. “And I’m not late. I was delayed.”

“Delayed?”

“Someone fell off their boat. I pulled them in.”

“Brrr.”

Morgan considered telling her more, knowing Stevie would get a kick out of teasing Morgan about rescuing a damsel in distress, but Morgan remembered the grief and humiliation in Emilia’s face and kept her mouth shut. She also recalled how Emilia had looked wearing Morgan’s spare clothes. Down that road lies peril. Her mind quoted one of the books or shows her friends were so fond of.

“They okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” Morgan hid the smile that rose to her lips behind her beer as she repeated Emilia’s favorite words.

“Anyone we know?”

“No. Nice dog, though. How’s the party?”

“It’s devolved into Cards Against Humanity.” Angie jabbed her thumb toward the living room, where her employees lounged on the mismatched couches and armchairs that filled the space. “I forgot how vulgar Alexa is.”

“Is she the one with the dildo earrings?” asked Stevie.

“Yes.”

“And you hired her why?”

“Because it is hard to find people who enjoy getting barked at all day for minimum wage. Plus, those earrings double as earplugs.”

“Among other things.”

“You’re gross.” Angie swatted at Stevie, who had ducked behind Morgan who fielded the blow.

“Pizza me, Ange,” Morgan said.

Angie grabbed three slices at random and piled them on a plate. Morgan devoured the first slice of pepperoni in four bites. Coming up for air, she asked, “Where’s Lil?”

“Still at the clinic. Emergency came in right before close.”

“I love that you still know more about the clinic than we do,” said Stevie. Morgan had to agree. Angie had been a vet tech before inheriting this house and enough money to open the clinic’s affiliated boarding and daycare facility. Despite this, she always seemed to have a line on what was going on back at the office.