Friday: July 18, 2025
8:38 PM; CLINSTONE, IVORY HILL
Bo slid into the booth across from Jacob, smiling faintly. “Happy fortieth, brother.”
Jacob smiled. “Thanks, Bo. Where’s your shadow?”
Bo chuckled. “Getting drinks. Any word on Alice?”
“She is… working on it. But she wished me happy birthday through text this morning instead of email, so I guess that’s a step closer to her coming back home,” Jacob said.
“That’s definitely a step,” Bo agreed. “I got you the good tequila for your birthday. It’s at the house.”
Jacob snorted. “Thank you.”
“Mmhmm.” Bo looked up as Jensen slid into the booth. He set a glass of pop in front of Bo, twisting off the cap of his own beer bottle. “Thanks.”
“No problem, babe,” Jensen said. He smiled. “Happy birthday, Jake.” Jacob nodded his thanks. “What’s it feel like to be old?”
“Of course you wouldn’t know, you little shit.” Jacob chuckled. “Feels like I’m a couple years away from needing to color my damn hair to hide the fact that I’m old,” he said.
Bo took a sip of his pop, glancing up at Cecilia and her band on the stage. “I have another present for you.”
“At the house?” Jacob asked. Bo shook his head, setting an object on the table. Jacob cocked his head to the side, pulling it closer to himself. His brow furrowed. “Bo?” he questioned.
“That comes with about a six thousand per year raise, Jake,” Bo said softly.
“I–I don’t understand. What about David?”
“He’ll be promoted to chief.”
“What about Myra?”
“Early retirement,” Bo said. He smiled softly. “Wipe that panicked expression off your face. You’re going to do great things for CPD, Lieutenant.”
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