I’m glad I didn’t eat lunch yet because it would be coming back up with the horrific make-out show in front of me. The puppy literally has its tongue down Mitchell’s throat, and he doesn’t seem to be trying to stop it. At all.

“Do you want me to leave?” I ask with my ass hovering over the chair.

“Not at all,” Mitchell says, finally pulling the puppy away from his smiling face. “He is incredible. A true delight.”

I smile awkwardly as my boss puts his new puppy on the floor of his office. The dog bounces over to the garbage can and stuffs his head inside.

“This is the nicest thing that anyone’s ever done for me,” he says, laughing as the pup pulls out a banana peel.

“You seemed kind of down,” I answer. “And I thought a puppy might lift your spirits a bit and help cure some of that loneliness.”

I was also hoping that it would make him get off my back a bit too, but I don’t mention that part.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you,” he says. “You’re a good doctor. You didn’t deserve it.”

My mouth drops, nearly hitting the desk. Did he just call me a good doctor? He must really be in love with this dog.

Hopefully, it’s what he needs to finally get over Anabelle.

“I hear you’re going to the wedding,” he says, laughing as the pup grabs onto his shoe and tries to yank it off with his baby teeth.

“The… wedding?” I ask, swallowing hard. The image of Mitchell talking with Walter pops into my head and I get a sour taste in the back of my throat. Did he invite my boss to the wedding too?

There goes my fun night if he did.

“Mr. Thatcher’s daughter’s wedding,” Mitchell says with a nod. “He invited me as well. We should carpool.”

Now I really feel sick.

“Carpool?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at the only exit. It’s going to be a romantic evening with me, Shane, and my boss. Kill me now.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding enthusiastically. “I just got Miley Cyrus’ new CD. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. There’s going to be a Party in the USA.” He throws his hands up in the dorkiest raise the roof I’ve ever seen. This guy couldn’t raise the roof on a tent with those pathetic moves.

I cringe at picturing having to tell Shane that I’ve brought a third wheel to our first date.

After several years here, Mitchell just started to like me, and I’m about to ruin it thirty seconds in.

“I actually live right next to the church where they’re getting married,” I lie, slowly getting up as he looks at me funny, “so I’m just going to walk.”

“You do?” he asks, looking confused.

“Yeah,” I say, nodding as I slink back toward the door. “Right next door.”

“Next door?”

“Yeah, like right down the street. Around the corner. That’s where I live.”

“Oh,” he says, rubbing his chin as he stares at the desk. “What about the hall? You’ll need a ride there.”

“No,” I say, waving a hand at him as my ass bumps into the closed door. “I have a place near the hall too.”

Now he really looks confused. Well, that makes two of us. I can’t even keep up with my own lies. “I have a place near the hall too, so I won’t need a ride.”

“But—”

“I have places all over the city,” I say as I open the door and slink outside. “So, I’ll just see you there. It’s better that way.”

“Won’t you need a ride between the church and the—”

“Look!” I say, pointing at his new puppy who is chewing a leather-bound medical book. “He’s adorable!”

Mitchell seems to forget all about my crazy explanation the second he sees the dog. “Awwww,” he says, clasping his hands together as he watches the dog destroy his personal property.

I take advantage of his distraction and slip into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind me. I find Ralph and thank him for bringing in the pup.

“You saved my butt with that one,” I say to my resident-in-training. “Coffee is on me this week.”

“No problem,” he says with a smile. “I have five puppies left. Do you want one? Take two.”

“I’ll take zero,” I answer with a laugh. I don’t want anything in my condo that likes to destroy shoes. No matter how cute it is.

We start the rounds together, and I sigh in disappointment when I walk into Shane’s old room and there’s a new patient inside. He’s not on my chart.

“Did a nurse send you in here?” I ask. He’s looking strange with a hospital gown over his clothes. His hair is done up and he doesn’t look sick. Out of place, yes, but sick, no.

“The nurse told me to see Dr. Madison Mendes,” he says. “Is that you?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“You’re Dr. Madison Mendes?” he repeats.

“Yes, I’m Dr. Madison Mendes,” I answer with a hint of frustration. “Who are you?”

“My name is Neil,” he says as he reaches under the pillow and pulls out a stack of documents. He hands them to me as he steps forward. “And you’ve just been served.”

I let out a gulp as he pulls his gown off in one fluid motion, balls it up, and throws it at the bin. He misses spectacularly.

“Ah, crap,” he mutters as he shuffles out of the room. “That would have looked so much cooler if I got it in.”

I scan the papers in a panic, wondering who the hell is suing me when I finally see the name in big block letters.

Now I’m really going to be sick.

Shane Winters.