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The med student and two residents share subtle looks, watching the interaction. 

“Is my husband around?” You asked Dana, glancing around to see if he was nearby. It was never predictable where he might be. It’s not uncommon for him to not answer his phone when he works and you don’t blame him. It’s understandable. But it’s rare for you to show up at the department, that usually means it’s important.

The three watching noticed your eyes wandering, quickly busying themselves. Santos and Javadi looked at the same computer, as if they were reading results together. While Whitaker fumbled with the chart he’d picked up. The two women look at him in disbelief and annoyance. Smooth. 

“Trauma one. He’s in a mood.” Dana pre warned you, giving you a knowing look. You weren’t surprised by the fact, very aware how moody Robby can be when he’s stressed. 

“Not surprising.” You huffed out a dry laugh. “When isn’t he?”

“True that.” The charge nurse hiffs, knowing you'd understand more than anyone. But you’re able to diffuse him unlike anyone else. 

“Alright if I hang around?” You asked, knowing the answer but much preferring to be sure instead of assuming. 

“Of course.” Dana assured you, well aware you don’t like to presume but instead hear directly. Everyday is different in the ED. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just Levi.” You explained, not details but enough for her to understand that something had happened. Your son could get into his own mess these days, he’s 22 and at college, figuring out his life. Didn’t mean he didn’t avoid doing dumb shit. 

Before Dana could respond, her mouth hanging open before shutting as a painstakingly familiar voice rang out. 

“What’re you doing here?” You heard your husband’s gruff voice, head turning as he wandered up beside you. He pressed a kiss to your head before his eyes returned to your face. Concern was etched across his features, worried that something was wrong. You didn’t show up here without a reason. 

Javadi tried to not look invested but she was, Robby was married? Santos and Whitaker thinking the same thing. And this woman is his wife? No way. That can’t be right. 

“Your son decided that getting drunk and running around campus was a good idea.” You informed him dryly. This is the second time you've talked about this. Not that you were angry but more annoyed. You had to leave work, because Robby couldn’t, to go and get him from the police station by his campus. “Naked.”

“Why is he always my son when he does something stupid?” Robby inquired in disbelief before shaking his head immediately. It was too early for this, barely 8:30am.  “Actually, don’t answer that.”

He knew that if either of you had passed the doing something dumb gene, it was him. He had never done something quite like that but he was the more reckless between the two of you. He didn’t need to have his workplace hear about some of the dumb things he’s done in his 20s. 

Levi isn't a bad kid. Just tends to do dumb things.

Javadi, Whitaker and Santos all shared glances in utter shock. This man has a son? A kid? No way. They don't believe they’d heard this correctly. 

“Anyways. He’s alright. But he called Jack who called me.”

“Fuck.” Your husband signed, hanging his head low before looking back at you. “You going to get him?”

He gave you a look that said you gonna go or… not to rush you out but instead to figure out why you were hanging around with your shared son behind local station bars. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, pausing before you explained absentmindedly. “Letting him sweat a bit.”

“You’re evil.” He commented dryly. 

“It’s why you married me.” You grinned. 

He huffed a soft yet dry laugh. He won’t even deny it. Your nature was one of the many reasons he’d fallen inlove with you in the first place. He knows how incredible of a mother you are. He’s cherished raising children with you. He’d never seen you so soft and loving. He sometimes still found it hard to believe you had married and had kids with him. 

But he was aware that you weren’t going to let this stint slide. 

“That’s why you’re here?” He quizzed, almost a little amused, though pissed that his son had done something so stupid. This would be something you two would discuss with him later. 

“Partially. But thought I'd tell you before Jack blabs at shiftchange.” You answered, not going to have spoken to him later about this. It was too important. And you knew Jack would’ve let him know this evening. Better if it comes from you. 

Jack has been a staple in your kids' lives since he’d met Robby years ago. When Robby had started working at PTMC as an attending, you’d been pregnant with your second child. When Jack had joined a few years later, your kids were 8 and 6 at the time. He’d immediately grown attached, loving them like they were his own. They adored him, not having a day without him since (minus when he’d been in the army and deployed). 

As much as he loves them, he made it clear he wouldn’t keep things from you and Robby. Especially when it’s important. He loved them. But he loves you both too. All of you are like his family. He wasn’t going to lie. 

“Good thinking.” He nodded, appreciative you’d told him instead of letting him be blindsited later. 

“I’ll head out.” You said, wanting to get this whole thing sorted and just get back home. Not like you’d go back to the office. Thankfully your appointments were all via zoom today, it helped. “Hopefully won’t take too long but i’ll let you know.”

“Alright, thanks.” Robby replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It was something he always did when you’d separate for the day. “See you after work.”

“I love you.” You said softly, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I love you, honey.”

You waved goodbye to him and Dana, turning back around and heading back to your car. 

“You’re married?” Santos blurted in disbelief, unable to keep it in. Whitaker nudged her with his elbow in panic, she should not have said that. 

He looks over at her, pulling the chain out from under his undershirt. The chain dangled with a gold band hanging from it. His wedding ring. “26 years.” 

He doesn’t hide he’s married. He just doesn’t find himself needing to share that information unwarranted. He loves his wife and kids but he prefers to keep his family outside of the workplace. So if he’s not prompted, he doesn't talk about them. 

“How… when … what?” Santos stammered, in disbelief he’s been married. To you. For 26 years. 

“You didn’t know?” Langdon quizzed the three as he wandered to the desk, amused at their shocked expressions.

“Don’t act like you didn’t react the same way when you found out.” Dana mused, shooting Langdon a knowing look. 

He can’t even deny it. When he discovered his attending’s long-lasting marriage, he was shocked. The man didn’t seem emotionally capable. But must've been wrong. He’s grown to know that over the last few years when he’d seen you two interact. 

Robby is a man inlove. 

“How’d you meet?” Javadi mustered up the courage to ask, curious to hear how you’d met. Especially since you’d been married for so long. 

Robby huffed a laugh at the memory, recalling the evening you’d met. It was forever seared into his memory.

1995.

Robby was out with a couple of his med school classmates for a rare night out between rotations. Being a MS3 was intense, going from classroom to real direct-contact work with patients. 

The four of them were mostly sharing how their recent rotation had been. They’d all been put into different specialties. Paediatrics, orthopaedics, cardiology and gastroenterology. 

He was mid laugh when his eyes glanced over the room, eyes locking on you. It felt like his breath had been pulled from his lungs. 

You were out with friends for a monthly catch up. Since you’d both graduated and begun your career’s, you rarely get to spend time together. The two of you made it a point to organise a once a month where you’re both free to catch up in person. Talking on the phone can only do so much for a friendship sometimes. 

The two of you were chatting, discussing recent events in your lives. She was halfway through telling you about an incident at her new job. 

“God, can you believe it?” She said in disbelieving scoff. “I mean, who in their right mind thinks that it’s okay to show up drunk and deny the whole thing, it's just dumb to try and gaslight your boss.”

“That’s so fucked. Please tell me he was fired. Or at least suspended.” You said in disgust, already hating whoever this guy was.

“I wish.” Your friend shook her head in annoyance. She went to take a sip of her drink, to realise it was empty. “But I will say that I need another drink.”

“I’ll get some.” You said as you stood up with a chuckle, grabbing your wallet. Though you gave her a playfully pointed look. “Don’t venture anywhere.”

“No promises.” she teased, though not really planning to go anywhere. She was the type to just wander away without prompt. But honestly, so are you. She’s just worse than you, especially when intoxicated. 

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at the tease, but accepted it. It's normal for the two of you, the teasing. But you do hope she won’t venture far if she decides to. 

You made your way to the bar, sliding up between a tall man and a woman, there being a gap. They weren’t interacting so you took it as a safe spot to choose. It didn’t take long for the bartender to make it to you, barely 30 seconds.

“What can I get for ya?” He asked, leaning forward slightly to make sure he could hear you. It wasn’t too loud but to be safe. 

“Vodka lemonade and a vodka coke please.” You asked kindly, always making sure to be nice to staff. He nodded and got to making the drinks.

Robby glanced down at you when he heard the honeyed voice. Oh shit. It’s you. He made an effort not to stare at you from a distance when he’d noticed you earlier. He’s not shy but he respects you’d been with a friend and he’d been with his. He barely noticed the bartender he’s spoken to before, placing the beers he’d asked for in front of him. 

“Thanks.” He said to the guy but he made no effort to move. He glanced down at you again, at the same time your eyes had flickered up to him. You gave him a smile before looking back ahead of you, eyes seemingly glancing around behind the bar. 

Robby’s attention went back to the bartender as he dug out a few bills and handed them over. He gestured with his head towards you besides him. “Her’s too.”

The bartender nodded, not really having much of a thought as he put the money through, conversing with the other bartender for what you’d asked for to figure out the total cost. 

Your head had snapped up towards him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You’ve had guys offer to buy you drinks, your friend too. Though never had been quite as forward as this. 

“That’s awfully nice of you.” You commented dryly, looking up at him. You were a little suspicious. But you can't help but think of how gorgeous he is. It’s not actually fair. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He said honestly, offering you a grin that made your heart skip a beat. Fuck this guy. 

“But it got you talking to me.” He added a beat later, that breathtaking grin widening a smidge. 

“Ah, so that was your plan, huh?”

“No, kinda just happened in the moment.” He said with a shrug, grin not faltering. It wasn't a total lie. He had been thinking about ways he could start a conversation with you. He normally can do without ease. But you’d made him throw away the idea of using shitty pickup lines. 

“In the moment.” You chuckled, a grin of your own forming. Somehow you could tell it wasn’t a complete lie, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth. For not, you wouldn’t question it. As gorgeous as he is, you didn’t plan on hanging around long. You had your friend to get back to. 

“That hard to believe?” He teased, having noted you seemed to be somewhat amused. 

“Nope, but you can’t tell me you don’t already have a list of pick-up lines ready to go.” You joked, but half-meaning it. He was unfairly attractive and you’re sure he knew it. No doubt he could easily get a girl’s attention. 

The bartender placed your drinks in front of you. Thanking him, you turned back to the man you’d been interacting with. 

“You got me.” He chuckled, not going to deny it. “But they don’t seem like something you’d be interested in”

“Now that's a line.” You laughed, grin turning into a genuine smile. 

That smile? That nearly stopped his heart. 

“Maybe it is.” He said with a light laugh, not denying but not having intended on it being that way. But really, anything to make sure you kept smiling like that. He leant his head slightly forward towards you, speaking in a conspiratorial murmur. “Did it work?”

“I’m not at liberty to answer that.” You chuckled, unwilling to admit that maybe it was. It might just be his pretty face. But you weren’t immune. 

“Besides, I have my friend to get back to.” You added, gesturing over to your friend. When your eyes landed on her, she seemed to be occupied with a guy. The two close together as they seemed in deep conversation. Good for her.

“Ah, that's one of mine.” he chuckled, eyes having followed where you’d directed and seeing it was one of his friends with your friend. He hadn’t quite anticipated his friend chatting with yours. But it certainly seemed to work in his favour here so he won’t complain. 

“Yeah?” You quizzed but weren’t completely convinced he hadn’t coordinated that. 

“Not my doing. Promise." He chuckled, raising his hands in faux-defence, sensing you thought it may have been. He meant it, genuinely not having a single thing to do with the situation. But he thought of it as good luck. 

Your eyes drifted back to him, eyebrows raised. You looked at him for a few beats before grabbing your friend's drink and one of his beers. “Don’t move.”

He didn’t say anything as you left him, and your own drink. Not a smart move but it hadn’t even occurred to you in the moment. You made your way back to the table your friend was at, placing the drinks down in front of her and her guest. You subtly winked at her before you turned back and headed towards the drink and man you’d left.

As you slid back besides him, he felt elated. He hadn’t felt this excited to just talk to a woman in well … ever. 

“Gonna tell me your name or am i gonna have to guess?”

“Michael. But you can call me Robby.”

“I don’t see how that correlates.” You mused, raising an eyebrow at him. You don't exactly see how those names worked together. Robby? You think Robert. 

“Robinavitch.” he explained with a chuckle, eyes dazzling. 

“Ah, gotcha.” You nodded with another light chuckle. Last name. You told him your name in return. 

He repeated your name, letting it roll off of his tongue. He liked it. It was your name after all. 

The two of you converesed. You discussed your lives, work, study, friends, hobbies. You discovered he was a third year med student, just completing a rotation in cardiology. He mentioned he liked the idea of emergency, wanting to help people at the hardest point of their lives. You respected it, understood it even. You were hanging onto every word he spoke, enjoying the words rolling off his lips and interested in what he was saying. That hasn’t happened in a long time.

He discovered you had graduated with a bachelor of psychology last year, now practising as such as you worked on completing your masters of clinical psychology. You explained how you want to conduct cognitive clinical assessments for patients who think they might have ADHD, autism and anything else that might support patients understand what is going on inside their brains. You didn’t go into details but you had admitted you’d had your own struggles with mental health. That being a huge part of wanting to support others with theirs. You wanted to work in a few areas of psychology, he had gathered. 

You two spoke for hours. Literally hours. About everything and nothing at the same time. You joked, had serious topics at hand and discussed absolutely anything either of you could think of. 

You checked the time on the wall with a glance, realising it was nearing 12am. God, you’d been talking to him since about 9, knowing you’d been here since at least 8 when you and your friend had arrived. Neither of you even touched your drinks, both just sitting there useless. 

“Not to cut this short…” You said with a light huff as you got up from the seat you’d been on. Eventually the two of you had drifted to an empty table, finding it more comfortable to be seated as you chatted. But he would’ve happily stood there in discomfort if he got to hear your voice. Not that he’d admit that. “...but I should go, it's nearly 12.”

He looked at the clock as you spoke, eyes widening in surprise. It had been 3 hours? That’s how long he’d been talking to you. It felt like it had been 30 minutes. His eyes drifted back to you, not going to argue. He should probably find out if his friends are still here or not. You’d both noticed yours and his friend leaving earlier, so you didn’t need to worry about her being alone. 

“Yeah, it was great talking to you.” He said with a soft smile. He was disappointed you were leaving but he understood. And he wasn’t going to make assumptions. Not with you. Other women he may have made some sort of line, getting them to go home with him or vice versa to never see them again the next day. But he didn’t want to do that with you. 

“You too.” You replied with a smile of your own. “Bye, Michael.”

“Bye.” He smiled, his lips tugging wider at the use of his first name. Not his nickname. But his name. He watched as you waved and made your exit, eyes trailing you as you walking out the front door. He let out a small sigh, disappointed you were gone. He realised a moment later that he hadn’t even asked for your number. The thought slipped. Likely to avoid the anxiety. He;d never been anxious to ask a girl for her number before. 

Meanwhile, the cold air was a welcomed slap to the face from the heat of inside the bar. It was soothing. But you couldn’t help the disappointment you felt. You had really begun to like him. You’d spoken for hours. Not like you’d spilled your entire life story. But still, you thought something was there. Something you hadn’t felt before. Not with your exes. 

You became annoyed. Had he not felt that? Or did he? Either way, he didn’t ask for any form of contact details for you. 

With a huff, you turned back inside and marched towards him. 

Robby was shocked when he saw your figure storming towards him. He had just stood up to go in search for his friends. 

“Okay. We have something. There’s this … this… I don't know … spark. It's there.” You ranted, eyes wide as you looked up at him. You wished you could blame it on the alcohol because this was not something you did. But you couldn’t help but blurt this at him. You can be embarrassed later. “We’ve been talking for hours. Literal hours. And you don’t ask for my number? Seriously? What the fuck?!”

His eyes were wide in shock as you spoke before softening. He hadn't exactly anticipated you running back to tell him off. It was hot. A soft grin tugged at his lips at each word you said. 

“What?” You asked him in annoyance, arms now crossed over your chest. 

“Is it too late to ask for your number?” He questioned, a hint of tease mixed in the hope in his voice. He had wanted to ask but had been caught off guard by you leaving. He was nervous at the prospect. What if you’d said no? That’d have just about broken his heart. 

“You’re asking now?” You asked dryly. “Because I yelled at you?”

“First, you didn't yell. You firmly stated your annoyance.” He corrected genuinely but firmly  “second, i wanted to but i got nervous.”

“Nervous?” you quizzed, not quite believing that. He hadn’t been nervous the entire time you’d spoken to him. Not openly anyways. 

“Yeah. Nervous.” He admitted without shame. “Beautiful girl I've been talking to all night rejects me? That's nerve-wrecking.”

“Enough with the lines.” You responded dryly. He hadn’t really given you lines but that didn’t automatically exclude him from going to use them. 

“Not a line. I'm serious.” Robby said, sincerity seeping through his voice. His eyes didn’t leave yours. He wanted you to know he wasn’t trying to be smooth. Just honest. 

You stared at him for a few moments, debating if you could trust it. He sounded painfully sincere. You don’t think you can fake this kind of honestly. 

“Still want my number?”

Present. 

“I love her.” Javadi rushed out immediately, then flushing with embarrassment as she realised she said that outloud. Her hand covered her mouth in shock at her own words. 

Robby just chuckled, which surprised her and the two residents. 

“She’s incredible.” He commented fondly. His mind reeled with thoughts of you. Both from recent years and the early times of your relationship. 

“Careful, you’re sounding human.” Dana joked, though she had grown fond of the dynamic between you and the attending. He was practically a different person with you. Your kids too. 

“Don’t let my daughter hear that, she’ll use it against me.” He joked back, having broken out of his thoughts and preferring the humour based dynamic in the workplace. He didn’t need to be vulnerable here. Not about his family.

Before anyone could respond, he headed off. Intending to see a patient, check in to see how his residents are doing. But he’d instead slowed his moments and pulled out his phone, pulling up your text chain.  

Husband <3: if he claims he was dared, you’re going to let me eat you out Wife: if he says that he’s made a mistake and won’t do it again, you’ll eat me out Husband <3: deal

“I’m sorry … DAUGHTER?!” 

He heard the disbelief of his resident, ignoring the question and instead pocketing his phone continuing on his day. He’s the chief attending here. At home? He’s just a man who’s obsessed with his wife.

One moment, you were relaxing with your friend, watching your favorite show together while sipping on a drink. The next second, you’re spitting your drink out, wearing it down the front of your shirt. The man to the side merely lifts his cup, taking a swig from it with a glint in his hazel eyes.

“I’m sorry? You want me to do what?” You wipe the drink from your face, coughing. Jack sighs as if the thought of repeating himself is exhausting before setting the cup down.

“I want you to date me,” he repeats nonchalantly, “well, I want you to pretend to date me.”

“Okay, start with that next time. Oh my god, Jack. I almost died,” your throat is still scratchy from the coughing fit you had after nearly choking on your drink. Your silver-haired friend’s eyebrows raise at your words while laughing at you.

“I didn’t realize the thought of dating me would send you to such an early grave,” he jokes while nudging your shoulder with his. Your body jostles from the impact while you quickly go to defend yourself.

“Well, how else would you expect me to respond? We’ve been friends for how long now? Then, we’re in the middle of our new episode, and you randomly go, ‘Hey, will you be my girlfriend?’” You mock his deep voice. Jack rolls his eyes, scoffing at your impression.

“I didn’t say that,” he levels his face with yours with a dumb look.

“I’m sorry,” you hold your hands up, adjusting the way you sit. “‘Hey, weird question. Will you be my girlfriend–well, my pretend girlfriend?’ Better?” The tone of your voice holds obvious sarcasm as you question him.

Jack sits and ponders your reenactment with pursed lips, tilting his head to the side while thinking. You can’t help rolling your eyes at his antics; he hasn’t changed since you two became friends. “Well, it’s an improvement from the first one, that’s for sure.”

“Why do you need me to be your pretend girlfriend anyway? That one came from left field. Hey, look at what they just did in the new episode–oh yeah, wanna go on a date with me later?” Your voice goes deep, mocking him once more.

“I don’t sound like that,” he sneers, squinting his eyes at your impression.

“Oh yeah? What do you sound like then?”

“Sexy, like this,” he gestures to himself. You snort at his cockiness, throwing a pillow at him before getting up from the couch as the credits roll on the television. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” you scoff, “Your ego is suffocating. Hard to breathe.”

“See, I already leave you breathless, so let me take you to dinner, and we can pretend. Well, apparently, I take your breath away as is, so I’ll have to pretend.” He smirks when you toss a nasty look over your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll pay.”

“Obviously, you’re paying. If I agree to this–which this is not me saying yes, so don’t get it twisted–you’re taking away precious me time. I don’t get much of it, so the least you can do is pay for the meal.”

Jack chuckles at your words and quickly stops when catching the expression on your face. “Of course, your precious me time that you never get. What does your ‘oh so busy’ schedule consist of besides sitting on the couch watching TV and reading your books that would kill your grandma if she opened them?” He interrogates you, while also reading you to filth.

Instead of answering his question, you suck your bottom lip in and run your tongue over it while letting out a fake laugh. “You know, most people are nicer when they need a favor. You, my friend, are not exactly making me want to help you with whatever you’re trying to do. Which are you going to tell me, why you need this date, or what? Trying to impress your boss? Proving to someone that you can get a date? Making someone mad? Why on earth do you need a fake girlfriend?”

“There’s a girl I like, but I need to give her a little extra motivation,” he shrugs. You pause your movements, head snapping in his direction before huffing a laugh.

“Wait,” you shake your head, “you’re using me to make a girl jealous?”

The way you laugh incredulously has Jack tilting his head at you with a questioning look. “Is there a reason why that’s funny? I’ve been around long enough to see how girls work. You guys want what other girls have. Toxic but seems to be the thing these days.”

“Jack, I’m not making anyone jealous. If anything, you’re going to look like an idiot for going on a fake date with me.”

“And why would I look like an idiot? Do you not think you’re capable of making another person jealous?” he nears you, angling his head back as he looks down at you. A disbelieving sound comes from you as your friend corners you in the kitchen.

“Jack Abbot, that will not work on me. Don’t even try it,” you push him backwards and start laughing at him. When you turn to focus your attention on him, he smirks and joins in on the laughter.

“Not even a little bit?” He asks, eyebrows wiggling at you.

“Not even a smidge, I fear.” The words leave you with a sigh as your shoulders drop.

“Someone else you got your eyes on?” Jack follows you, watching as you gather your belongings scattered throughout his house. His question makes you send him a dumb look; the same interrogation is becoming old.

“Jack, how many times do I have to tell you that there’s no one I have my eyes on? Can’t a girl be single in peace? Why must I be interested in someone at all times? Can’t I be an independent woman who isn’t looking for a relationship?”

Your silver-haired friend bites back a smile, squinting as he nods his head at your mini rant. He points at you before opening his mouth to say some smart-mouthed comment; you’ve been around him far too long to know what the look in his eyes means. “If I weren’t interested in someone, I’d definitely say what you just did. I’d also be just as defensive. But, yes. You can be single in peace, and you are more than welcome to be an independent woman. I just thought I saw you looking at–”

“Oh, don’t you even start.” Your hand shoots upward, cutting his sentence short. He stifles a laugh, nearly failing as an almost silent snort sound leaves him. “I’m leaving.”

Jack’s laughter echoes throughout the living room you pace through, trying to get to the front door as fast as possible. Both of you have had this conversation countless times, and nothing good comes of it. He also doesn’t need to witness your face that is currently burning in a frenzy, glowing a shade of red that’s hard to miss.

“You don’t have to leave. I won’t even bring him up. I know you don’t like him. At least that’s what you say, but I’m telling you–”

“As always, it was nice watching the new episode! I’ll see you when you let this go.” Your hand rips open the front door, all but running outside to escape Jack.

He’s quick on your heels, however, His voice carries through the neighborhood as he calls out to you. “Tomorrow night! Wear something nice. We’re going to dinner.”

“Tomorrow?” You spin on your heels to face him.

However, Jack looks anything but guilty as he leans against the pole of the porch, arms across his chest, with an amused smile. It’s now that you realize he can see how flustered you are from his previous interrogation.

“Yes, tomorrow night. Put the yarn down, wear a nice dress, and ditch the sweatpants. We have a part to play, and I need you to play along. We’re going to be the best couple there.”

As tomorrow night rolls by, you find yourself standing in front of a mirror, twirling in your little black dress. It does everything it needs to, squeezing your torso where it needs to, flaring out slightly at the hips, and being the perfect length to be modest yet a little risky. It’s not a dress you typically wear out since you’re not at many fancier dinner parties or dates, so you’re happy to wear it even if it’s for a fake date with your cocky friend.

Speaking of the man with an ego problem, he walks into the room, examining you from head to toe with an approving nod. You roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, before putting on jewelry to elevate the look. With your hair done, makeup completed, dress on, and accessories added, with your heels being the final touch, you are thankful you agreed to tonight.

The situation wasn’t ideal, but you felt good. Even if it’s Jack who gives you a practice twirl in your hallway with a crack of a smile playing on his lips. You’re not the only person dressed to the nines, so is Jack. He wears a black button-down top that’s tucked into his slacks. Fancy dress shoes and a watch to spice up his look. Nothing too fancy, but men never have to impress as women do for events like these.

“So what exactly are we doing? Stalking this girl at the restaurant she’s at? Honestly, that’s a little weird. Are you just going to keep following this poor girl around?” You question him.

Jack adjusts the cuff of his sleeves, rolling his eyes at your question. “It’s a work thing, and she’s invited through mutual friends,” he tells you simply. Your eyes widen at his confession, turning to face him in a millisecond.

“Wait, did you say a work thing?” Your words are rushed. Jack lazily glances your way, a little smile sneaking onto his face. “Hello?” He retreats a couple of steps when you wave your hand in front of his face after he doesn’t answer the question.

“Yes, work dinner party. A dinner with some cocktails. Maybe some dancing. It’ll be fine,” he shrugs off the panicked look you give him. When your jaw slightly hangs open, Jack gradually turns to face you, a smug grin on his face as he leans to your height. “Is there a reason why you’ve been gaping like a fish out of water since I said something about it being a work function? Whereas I’d love to say it’s because of me and my rugged looks and impeccable charm, I know you lack taste.”

Even if you’re shocked at the moment, you scoff at the man in front of you and his growing ego problem. “There’s no reason. I’m just shocked, that's all. Is–uh–is everyone aware that this is fake between us at your job?”

Jack looks at you as if you are an idiot and stops fixing his sleeves. “No, if people don’t think we’re in a relationship, it won’t work. I love my coworkers, but they love to gossip. Also, imagine me telling people you are pretending to date me.”

“Oh, the horror. There’s no way a girl could ever resist the charm of Jack Abbot. How could anyone pretend to date you?” You pretend to clutch your pears, gasping as you picture such a terrible reality. Jack turns to face you in the middle of your dramatic flailing with amusement dancing on his face, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches.

“Are you done?” He looks you up and down. Your movements have ceased, a smile still on your face, knowing he’s stuck with you for the rest of the night.

“I suppose,” your voice is tired when you respond to him. Before he waves you away from the mirror, you smooth the fabric down and begin to second-guess your outfit. “Does this look okay?” Jack’s eyebrows furrow when he hears the uncertainty in your question.

“Okay?” He questions with a laugh. “As your friend and a person with eyes, you look incredible. You are not changing. Wait until we get there, everyone is going to be looking at you, going, ‘wow, she’s so beautiful. Oh my gosh, who is she? And who is that man with her? They look amazing.” Jack is doing a variety of different voices as he impersonates the people at the dinner. You huff a laugh when he starts complimenting himself, too.

“You’re so dumb,” you roll your eyes, “and so incredibly full of yourself.” Your hands raise when you say the last part, a grimace on your face. Jack sends a smirk your way, his head tilting to catch your eyes.

“Someone has to be, since you can’t see how incredible your friend is.”

“Okay, let’s go. I need to see the girl who is unfortunate enough to catch your attention. Poor girl doesn’t know she’s going to be dating a man and his ego.”

“Just means she gets to love someone twice as much.”

_______

When you step foot into the dinner party, everyone really can’t keep their eyes off the night-shift attending and the girl on his arm, you. Suddenly, you’re gripping Jack’s arm, commanding him not to let you fall as the weight of their eyes makes you feel like you can’t walk anymore.

It’s incredible how the simplest of things are never difficult until people are watching. Now you feel as though you look similar to a baby deer walking for the first time. Your legs wobble with every step as everyone follows you with their eyes, smirks on their faces, and covers their lips as they whisper something to the person alongside them.

“Jack, everyone is staring. Whispering too,” you grit out. Although your smile is polite, nothing is polite about the way you pinch your friend’s inner arm and growl at him. Jack beams at your words, his pearly whites flashing for all to see as he looks down, pretending to be completely enamored by you.

“Of course they’re staring. Have you seen how handsome I look tonight?” He muses. You scoff at his question, rolling your eyes and looking completely unladylike.

“Oh my god, why did I agree to this? If you say some egotistical thing like that one more time, I swear I’ll–”

“Dr. Abbot, you seem to be the talk of the night.” A woman with a tanned complexion and natural curly hair flows down her back, walks up to the man on your arm.

You purse your lips, instantly cutting yourself off midsentence before she hears the threats you were sending to your friend. Now, you wear your polite smile once more, imitating the picture of a classy and proper person, to sell your part as Jack’s loving, devoted girlfriend.

“I saw that. Well, it’s always something weird for the students and residents to see their attending having a life outside the hospital. Fortunately, I have a life outside the hospital and well–here it is,” he says in a suave tone. When a smirk pulls to your lips, and you almost sneer at his words, it’s his turn to pinch your inner arm.

A gasp rips from you, quickly covering it up as if you are shocked by his words, “Ow-Oh, he’s too kind. I really don’t do much; I feel like my day doesn’t begin until he comes back home. Call it the honeymoon phase, or whatever people say it is these days. But I’ve never met anyone who can make me as happy as he does. Truly,” you glance his way when you say the last part.

Jack is already staring at you, your eyes instantly noticing the way his lips twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to smirk or laugh. Instead, he continues to look down at you, trying his hardest to maintain his composure at your fake words.

“But, oh my goodness, where are my manners? What’s your name? I don’t hear too much about the people he works with. He is very strict about the whole leave work outside thing. Not me, though, I tell him everything.”

“Well, with HIPAA and other rules doctors follow, he can’t really tell you much about what happens,” she speaks in a matter-of-fact tone. Your eyebrows raise at the way she responds, her words and attitude confusing you, whether or not she’s belittling you or simply trying to inform you, as if you’re not already aware.

“Right,” your tone must be unimpressed because there’s a pinch in your arm again. Your smile is tight as the pain registers. “I know, I just wish I knew who is who, you know? I’m all too knowledgeable about HIPAA and things like that.”

She smiles, approving of your response while eyeing Jack for a moment longer than normal. You glance his way; however, he’s still staring at you. Creepy.

“I’m Dr. Baran Al Hashimi,” she reaches her hand that isn’t holding a glass, out for you to shake. You use the one that isn’t wrapped around Jack’s arm to introduce yourself. She stares at both of you once more, doing a noticeable once-over, before smiling at the doctor to your side. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, and have a good time tonight. I hope you can meet the others, they’re a great group of not only nurses and doctors, but people.”

As she walks away, all you can do is smile before turning to look at Jack, a look of ‘what the fuck’ written on your features, clear as day. He doesn’t hold back the laugh that escapes him when both of you begin walking with an unknown destination. Instead, you’re both trying to compose yourselves, clinging to each other’s arms still as you struggle to move normally.

“I have a life outside the hospital–here she is,” you snort, legs wobbling. Jack throws a look your way, wiping the corner of his eyes while supporting the majority of your weight. “Since when did you become such a sap? Ugh, is that how you act in front of people at the hospital? Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

“I didn’t know how truly happy I made you,” he fires back, “My day doesn’t begin until he comes back home.” It’s his turn to mock your voice, and you don’t even try to hold your amusement in. Your body shakes with every laugh, and Jack even cracks another big smile, remembering the entire interaction from seconds ago.

“Oh my gosh, that was good,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. When you look up, everyone has little smirks, knowing smiles, or looks of jealousy as they observe Jack and you. “Speaking of staring problems,” you clear your throat, “No one looks at their girlfriend for that long. Seriously, Jack. It’s weird. Did you even look at her–speaking of her–is that her?”

“I’m not telling you,” he leans down to whisper-sing it. When your head snaps to him, he simply smirks and stands to his full height.

“I don’t get to know who the girl is? Are you serious? I’m over here playing house with you, and I don’t even get to know who she is? Jack, that’s not fair.” You feel childish, but you really wanted to know who caught his eye. It’s been a while since he’s been truly into someone, and it was only fair for him to tell you after doing this for him.

“No, I want you to act the same with everyone. If you know who it is, I know you’re going to leave the conversation so we can talk. When my plan works, then I’ll tell you,” he guides you through the crowd.

“Jack, if you don’t tell me, I’m not–”

“Jack?” A familiar voice catches your attention. You freeze in your tracks as your friend stops walking and turns toward the voice.

“Hey, man,” Jack lets go of you. The sound of them hugging and separating is slight, but you still hear it.

“You brought a date?” The man questions. As you attempt to sneak away, Jack catches your hand, gently pulling you into the conversation.

When you’re tugged to your friend’s side, you can feel the thud in your chest, slowly raising your eyes to meet the brown ones of the man standing in front of you. His eyes widen when it registers who stands at his friend’s side, glancing between both of you, slightly leaning back as the news washes over him.

“Oh, wow,” he says indifferently. “I thought you two were–uh–friends. When did this start?” Robby takes a swig from the now-empty cup in his hand. Suddenly, your mouth is dry, and you’re unable to lie. Instead, you continue to stand there, heart painfully pounding against your chest.

“Probably about a month ago, right?” Jack says, pulling back to look at you with a soft smile. You clear your throat, face flaming as you nod instead of talking, not quite trusting yourself to talk yet. Jack searches your face, a soft smile now turning into a smug one, before his hand rests on the middle of your back. “We were friends, but I couldn’t imagine someone else swooping in and taking her. I mean, the fact that no one has made a move on her has always been crazy to me. So, who better to be with her than her friend, who already cares about her?”

You finally pry your eyes from Michael, who stares at Jack with a look you aren’t able to describe. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds, Jack wearing an all too knowing, smug smirk, and Michael simply staring at him. The silence is broken when the dark-haired man clicks his tongue, a terse laugh coming from him before he looks at you. His brown eyes are drawing you in almost immediately as he sends a thin smile your way.

“I hope his charm doesn’t wear off too fast. But, you look good tonight,” he says stiffly. Your breath hitches, face flushing even more as he watches Jack run a hand down your back.

“Doesn’t she?” Your friend questions, his eyes scanning your every reaction. Finally, you inhale a shaky breath in, not sure how to feel under all the attention on you.

“Thank you, Michael.” Your voice comes out normally, which you’re thankful for. He delivers the same tense smile, the feature looking more annoyed than anything; however, you’re confused as to why. “As for his charm,” you clear your throat, glancing at your face, who searches your face, “It hasn’t worn off yet.”

“Oh, trust me, it won’t,” Jack smirks and swings his arm over your shoulder, squeezing where the dress doesn’t cover. Michael’s eyes track the movement, and he rocks back and forth on his heels before hunching slightly to deliver one last smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, you two have a good time. I have to make a couple more rounds, thanks to Gloria. Maybe we’ll run into each other again,” he stretches to his full height, groaning after bringing up Gloria. Jack pats his friend’s shoulder with a smile and wishes him luck.

Although you don’t say anything, Robby looks to you one more time, then the hand on your bare shoulder. Slowly, his eyes trail to your friend, the look in his eyes unreadable before excusing himself to make his rounds with the other guests. Quickly, you begin walking, skin cold from the interaction. Any heat from it leaves you quickly, the pounding in your chest settling to a dull thud.

Jack strolls next to you, hands stuffed in his pockets with a slight sway in his walk. Instead of talking to more people, you find an open table and grab a flute of champagne from a passing server’s tray, then promptly sit down. Your friend thanks the server for you and slowly eases himself into the chair next to you.

He doesn’t need to open his mouth to say anything; you don’t need to turn and see how he’s staring at you either. Jack has accused you for years of having a crush on his friend, Michael. You’ve denied it because you know what he’d do: either tell you absolutely not or play matchmaker. Plus, you’ve heard all about his friend, certified rake of the emergency department. It seems like that, at least from what Jack has told you about his previous relationships.

When you first met Michael, you began asking Jack about him. Your friend couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows and laugh at your inquiries. Teasing you for being into someone who is probably the same age as your parents, however, you were quick to deny the crush accusations. Although he never truly believed you, he left you alone about it. Of course, he still brings it up occasionally, but it’s quickly shot down.

“Well, that was weird,” he puffs out. When you take a sip out of your drink to cure your sudden cottonmouth, he nudges you. “You still there?”

“Yeah, why was that weird?” You rush the question out. At the corner of your eye, you see him send you a pointed look before lightly laughing at your question. Instead of answering, he covers his mouth as he chuckles. “I don’t even want to know why you’re laughing.”

“I’m just wondering why you were so chatty with Dr. Al Hashimi, but as soon as Robby appears, you clam up. Not to mention, it looks like you put twenty layers of blush right now.”

You turn your head away from your head, scoffing at him. “Well, I was shocked that you lied to your friend. Why lie to Robby that you’re in a relationship?”

“Are you upset that I lied?” He leans over the table to peek at you. When you finally turn to meet his gaze, he’s serious but still amused by the situation.

“He might be upset when he finds out you lied to him,” you deflect. Jack’s eyes give you a quick once-over, laughing to himself. “What? I’m being serious. You are supposed to be friends, and you’re lying to him about being in a relationship. It’s weird. I’m sure he’d understand that you’re trying to make a girl jealous. He’s probably done it.” The last part comes out with a certain tone that you don’t mean to do.

Jack reclines back in the chair, looking away with a wide grin, amusement clearly evident. “I think you’re upset that I lied to him. Do you not want him thinking you’re in a relationship?” He shoots back. You sputter at his accusation, your drink nearly spilling when you rear back.

“What? No, why would I care? I’m just saying, he’s your friend. I just think it’s weird, is all.” The way you try to shrug off the question is awkward; the weight of Jack’s words weighs them down. Your rushed words and awkward movements cause Jack to merely nod and pull his lips into a thin line, squinting his hazel eyes at your defensive behavior.

“I don’t know why you care. At least, I have to pretend I don’t know. I think you care that he thinks you’re in a relationship with me. If you’re in a relationship, how would he ask you out? That’s what I think. You’re all stressed and pressed about him being under the impression he can’t make a move now.”

The glass in your hand is quickly emptied as you throw it back, gulping down the drink. Jack barks a laugh when you shake your head. Music starts drowning out the conversations around the two of you, and people flee toward the floor, dancing with their drinks in hand. You didn’t ask Jack what this dinner was about, but you assumed it was a celebration or reward for something with the energy in the building.

“I don’t care if he thinks I’m in a relationship. It doesn’t change anything for me, because even though you can’t get it through your thick skull, I don’t like him like that. He’s a nice guy, and I just don’t think you need to lie to one of your buddies, is all.” You try to sound sincere because you do, in fact, care.

“Okay, good. Because I was going to ask you to dance with me, but I didn’t want you to be all upset with Michael watching.” Jack stands and holds out his hand. You glance down at his open palm and shake your head. “Come on, play along with me. I need this to look real. Maybe she’ll steal me from you when she sees my dance moves,” your friend wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You deadpan, face dropping as his ego returns to him. “The love you have for yourself sickens me. Truly, it makes my gut twist.”

“Good thing I’m a doctor, we can take care of that later. But, first, we have to dance.”

“You know I’m not a good dancer, Jack,” you say as you grab his hand. He smirks at you, remembering all the times he’s caught you dancing at your house.

“I know, but I am.”

As the two of you near the dancefloor, a couple of people who know him chat with him momentarily. You’re introduced to a couple of them before he whisks you away for a dance. Every song is peppy and fun, and you allow yourself to bask in the energy. A woman named Princess came up and stole you momentarily to ask you a barrage of questions and danced with you. When Jack found you again, he shook his head at his coworker and laughed at her little finger-wave to you.

“Ooh, I need you to stay here for a second, there’s someone I need to go talk to,” Jack’s hands leave your arms as his eyes scan the crowd. Before you can say something, he pulls away and is lost in the crowd.

“Okay, I literally know no one here, jerk face. Thanks for leaving me,” you grumble under your breath. Someone’s hand catches your arm as you pass through the crowd. “Uh, excuse me?”

“Where’s Jack?” When you glance at them, your lips slightly part at your bad luck. Michael looks around the group of people, but he cuts his losses on finding his friends when his eyes fall on you once again.

“Uh–he ditched,” you shrug, and Michael’s eyebrow instantly raised. “Oh, not like ditched. He’s still here, just went to talk to someone apparently.”

“Oh, gotcha. How are you liking the good ol’ work party? Did Jack introduce you to everyone already?” He questions, leaning against the wall behind you two. You pull your lips into a thin line; cursing your pretend boyfriend for abandoning you.

“It’s fun, good group of people. But, no. I met Dr. Al Hashimi and—”

Michael’s face tightens at her name, which causes your lips to slowly stretch into a smile. When you tilt your head at him, he takes a sip from his glass, eyes never leaving you. “Not a fan?” You quirk an eyebrow, causing Michael to laugh into his cup.

“Trying to get me in trouble at the party?” His eyes crinkle while he laughs. You shrug and lean against the wall next to the brunette.

“No, I would never,” you smile at him. When a silence passes between you both, you inhale a quiet breath to steady your heart. “Earlier when Jack and I were dancing then, I was suddenly stolen by a girl named Princess. I got an entire questionnaire thrown at me in the middle of a dance. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been asked so many questions about myself.” Robby runs his tongue across his bottom lip as he listens to you.

“Ah, Princess, the Pitt’s biggest gossip,” he drags his words out as if he’s announcing an award. He wiggles his fingers with his free hand while declaring Princess the Pitt’s gossip. Both of you laugh together at a safe distance from the crowd.

“Dr. Robby, I haven’t seen you out there yet,” a young woman points her thumb in the direction of the dance floor. The man to your side chuckles and shakes his head. “Better get out there. Everyone’s been waiting to see those moves.”

You raise your eyebrows while you watch his reaction. He barks a laugh at the young lady he works with, still shaking his head when she turns to leave. “Yeah, you should get out there and show them what you’re made of.”

“You coming with?” He slowly asks, observing your reaction. You laugh at his question, eyes scanning the crowd for your friend. “You don’t have to. I just thought I’d ask since you don’t know anyone here. I’d hate to leave you to the wolves.”

With your pretend boyfriend nowhere in sight, you gradually turn to face the man in front of you. He has a hand extended your way, the gesture causing your hand to beat a little faster. “Uh, sure, why not?” You send him a tight smile. As your hand falls into his, he squeezes it, as if testing out how it feels.

“Just a dance, then we’ll go search for Jack together,” Robby glances at you as you walk alongside him to the dance floor. You nod at his words, turning towards the man, gently holding your hand when you reach the dancefloor. “Is this fine?”

His question is lost on you when he pulls you toward him. Robby’s hands slide from your hips to the center of your back, his finger tracing your spine for a moment. Whereas you want to answer his question or step back, you can’t. Your eyes are locked on his chest as he holds you almost flush to his figure. It feels as if you can’t get enough air from how close he is, how he allows himself to trace the curve of your spine just once. His scruff brushes your cheek momentarily from the proximity, your face turns red from the feeling, and his breath dusts the curve of your neck.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says, voice low. Your heart pounds against your chest, which is pressed softly against him; you're positive he can feel it–if even just a little bit. “Is this fine?” Robby questions again. You hesitate before slowly nodding yes, your hands dropping from his shoulders, and sliding to fall on his upper arms instead.

“Yes, this is fine.” Your voice is practically a whisper when you respond. Robby nods, slightly swaying you to the slow beat of the music.

“Uh-oh, a new bombshell has entered the villa,” Princess whispers while skirting past you. When you look up, shocked, you catch your pretend boyfriend’s eyes, a glint swirling in them.

Robby spins you, and you’re quickly in someone else’s arms. The warmth leaves your skin as Jack catches you with ease, his lips tug into a smirk as he picks up on your flustered state.

“Sorry, I had to leave. I trust Robby is taking good care of you, though, yeah?”