Because taking it means I might run intohim.
"It's a lot of extra work," I say instead. "I've got a full patient load already."
"You've been complaining about wanting more challenging cases for months. And you literally have a degree in veterinary behavioral medicine. Military K9s are exactly your specialty."
"I didn't know you memorized my CV."
"I'm your best friend. I know everything about you." Sophie leans against the counter, studying me with the intensity of someone who's about to say something I won't like. "Including the fact that you're scared."
"I'm not scared."
"You're terrified. And not of the work."
Sophie's voice drops, losing the teasing edge.
"He's not Tyler."
My coffee mug stops halfway to my mouth. "I didn't say?—"
"You didn't have to." Sophie's expression softens. "You've got that look. The one you had for six months after Denver."
The mug hits the counter harder than intended. "This is completely different."
"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, you're finding reasons to say no before anyone's even asked you a question."
I press my fingers to my temple. "He asked me to leave everything. Tyler asked me to leave everything."
"Tyler asked you to follow him and got pissed when you wanted your career to matter too. Then he ghosted you two days later like you'd never existed." Sophie leans closer. "Has Dean done any of that?"
"Not yet."
"So, you're punishing him for something Tyler did?"
The bell over the door chimes—a woman with a toddler on her hip wanders in, heading for the children's section, and I've never been more grateful for an interruption in my life.
"You should help her," I say.
"Carla can help her."
"Carla's studying."
"Carla's eavesdropping. There's a difference." But Sophie pushes off the counter, anyway, shooting me a look that says this conversation isn't over. "Think about the consultation. It would be good for you."
"I'll think about it."
"And think about the pilot."
"Sophie."
"What? I didn't say anything about the pilot. I saidthinkabout the pilot. That's a totally neutral statement."
She disappears into the stacks before I can respond, leaving me alone at the counter with my latte and my racing thoughts and Carla's knowing silence.
"For what it's worth," Carla says, turning a page in her textbook, "I think you should do it."
"Nobody asked you."
"The consultation," she clarifies. "Good money, interesting work, and..." She pauses, mouth quirking. "If you happen to run into a cute pilot, well, that's just a bonus."
