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third-year emergency medicine resident, but she’d missed some shifts and was now making up for lost time.
    Trey always seemed to arrange things so that he worked with Gina when she did her EMS ride-alongs. Gina wasn’t sure if it was because Trey felt protective of her after she’d almost died in a drive-by shooting during her first ride-along last summer or if he was keeping tabs on her and reporting back to her boss in the ER, Lydia Fiore. Whom he also happened to be living with.
    After Trey pulled a cup of heavenly brewed caffeine from the cup holder and handed it to her, Gina decided she honestly didn’t care.
    She gulped her first sip. It was still hot enough to scald, but too good to resist. “Thanks, Trey. You’re a lifesaver.”
    Gina was exhausted. Squeezing in the ride-alongs in addition to her regularly scheduled shifts in the ER had put a definite crimp in her free time—including time to sleep. And personal grooming time. She patted her mass of braids, which she’d pulled back with a scrunchie. Antonio, her stylist, was going to shriek when he saw her.
    She prayed the jolt of caffeine would keep her eyes open through her shift. Her medical student roommate, Amanda, hadn’t helped—flouncing around the house at an ungodly hour as if a stint in the pediatric ICU were more fun than sex (something Gina had about given up on these last two weeks) and grinning like the twenty-five-year-old in love she was. Amanda was engaged and looked the part.
    Gina was engaged and looked like a hag.
    Jerry, her fiancé—just thinking the word made her panic—was being patient with her request to keep their engagement a secret. But even his patience had an end. He wanted her to announce their engagement at the big Angels of Mercy gala on Saturday night, where Gina was receiving a Carnegie Medal for heroism.
    That plan had a few problems. First, Gina was no hero—she felt like a fraud accepting the medal. It was actually another doctor, Ken Rosen, who had been the real hero back in July, during the riots. Unfortunately a reporter had caught her on film. The media and public—not to mention her father’s lobbying with his influential friends—had done the rest. And despite Gina’s urging, Ken refused to step up and take the credit that was rightfully his.
    Second, her parents were expecting her to announce that she was leaving her emergency medicine residency to join her mother at the Freeman Foundation, raising money for causes deemed worthy and spending a lot of time in designer gowns associating with the “right” kind of people—a group that most definitely did not include Jerry Boyle, a detective with the Major Crimes squad.
    Suddenly working double shifts to avoid thinking about the mess she’d got herself into felt like a blessing.
    “Heard you were late in the ER last night.” Trey’s tone had a faint ring of disapproval, but she ignored it.
    “Was supposed to get off at twelve, but a drug OD kept me there until two.” Which meant home and to bed around three and back up again to ride in the ambulance by seven.
    “You okay to work? I’d rather have you take a day off than compromise patient care.”
    “I’m fine.” She took another sip of coffee, mainly to hide her yawn. She craved a smoke, but Jerry had finally persuaded her to quit, so instead she jammed a piece of nicotine gum into her mouth.
    A call came through, interrupting Trey’s interrogation. Gecko, who was driving, glanced back at her in the rearview mirror. “How come no bulletproof vest today? You must have a good feeling about riding with us.”
    Gina glanced down at the navy polo she’d tucked into her cargo pants. “I forgot it,” she admitted. As long as they didn’t run into Jerry, who was overprotective even for a cop, it wouldn’t matter.
    “Surprised you’re talking to us peons, what with being given the key to the city on Saturday. You know Ollie and I have to be there, full dress uniform and everything.”
    “I