Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Invitation to your brothers' wedding

Together with the Chase, Smith and Lawrence families and with God's blessing,

Robert Chase and Samantha Smith

Matthew Chase and Johanna Lawrence

Kindly invite you to celebrate their wedding.

3pm | 19 St. Louis Avenue – San Francisco (CA)

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Hey, Pet-Boxer! Pay attention to the rules for pet day!

For a pleasant and peaceful workday with our best friends, here is a list of suggestions to make everything go smoothly!

The attachment follows.

Pet-box,

We love your pet!

Annabeth sighed heavily as she reread the first email.

It had been lounging and being ignored in her inbox for three days, since wednesday. She already knew what it was, so she left it untouched for a while, trying to get used to its existence before finally opening it, as quickly as someone removing a bandage.

Now, time for complain: a wedding invitation via email?! You've got to be kidding!

This how people were getting married these days? If it was Annabeth getting married, she would definitely... Well, she didn't know exactly what she would do, she didn't think much about it and wasn't going to start now. But she would definitely do something besides sending a lazy email, as if it were a spam letter from the 2000s like those ‘those who love Jesus will share with 7 friends, those who hate will not and shall gain 7 years of bad luck.’ (Annabeth didn't remember, but she must have not shared about fifteen of those and was now living through the bad luck years).

And of course her brothers would have a double wedding.

From an early age, they were the clichéd epitome of twin brothers: seemed physically incapable of accomplishing great things separately, completed each other's sentences and would be willing to commit crimes for each other, but they would fight to the death over a piece of bread if given the opportunity.

Still, Annabeth was surprised that the brides agreed to share the big day. On the bright side, maybe that meant they weren't the bridezilla types, but what did Annabeth know? She had never met them, either of them.

Now, what she knew for sure, was that Matthew and Bobby had certainly argued to decide whose name would come first on the invitation.

The email was sent by her stepmother, Helena, with a footnote of "We look forward to seeing you, Annie." (Annabeth hated that nickname.)

What, exactly, were they looking forward to?

Annabeth knew very well what Helena and her father thought about her life: they thought she was a workaholic spinster approaching 30, and that it was humiliating to live like that while her 24-year-old brothers were already on their way to the altar. They might even be eager to see her, but only if it were to point out her lack of prospects for having a boyfriend — she was very 'unapproachable', that's what they used to say — accuse her of living too lonely and selfishly, and say that's why she wasn't capable of taking care of any living being other than herself, even killing the indoor plants she insisted on trying to cultivate.

And the worst of all? Annabeth couldn't even contradict them because: 1. She was, in fact, single (whether she was what they called a 'spinster' or not, that was another story, one that included a complex study of years of structural misogynies that Annabeth wasn't willing to do. What she knew was, from her point of view, it was extremely common to be single at her age, thank you very much. Bobby and Matthew were the ones who were advanced); 2. 28 was really approaching 30 (but then again, what was so abnormal about being single at that age, when you had a nice house, a good career and good health?); and 3. The plants she tried to create actually always died.

Oh, and was she a workaholic? Probably. Did she seem unapproachable to men in general? For sure! But looking at the men out there, and hearing the experiences of her friends who were actively looking for a boyfriend, Annabeth thought that might be an advantage (at least in the long run. Like, who knows if, in natural selection, women who look unapproachable like her will end up living longer?).

Anyway, considering her situation with the stepmother, and even with her father and half-siblings, Annabeth really came to wonder if inventing an illness to avoid having to attend the wedding would be such a bad thing.

She was embarrassed to admit it, but she didn't even know that their relationship was serious to that point.

The disease would only work if it was something big. Was cancer very morbid? Sure, it was very morbid... Her family would probably call off the wedding if they knew Annabeth was on the verge of death.

She laughed sadly, to herself: they probably wouldn't cancel, which would make her feel a million times worse than she does now.

Trying not to keep thinking about it, at least not for now, Annabeth put the wedding email in the 'follow-up' tab and moved on. Surprisingly or not, she had more important things to deal with than her brothers' stupid marriage.

Taking advantage of the momentum and gently rolling her eyes, she didn't even bother to respond the internal communications newsletter, just throwing it in the trash box. Again, believe it or not, she also had more pressing matters to deal with that didn't involve Pet-Box's pet-day, the pet-company that Annabeth pet-worked for as pet-project-manager.

Yes, she knew it made her sound bitter, but hey, when you work at a company like Pet-Box, where you eat paw-shaped cookies, and often have meetings where an organic bag of cat food is the heart of the matter, and you need to pretend that people who treat their pets like they're literal children aren't weird, you must deserve a discount!

And Annabeth thought that she herself deserved even more because, apparently, it wasn't enough to have given her whole life for that company, she needed to have a pet, otherwise her co-workers would look at her with a skeptical frown saying: “You’ve got to be kidding, right?”, although she very obviously wasn’t.

Pet-Box was a company focused on e-commerce in which a monthly service of a box with all the items for your pet would be offered; personalized with your needs and preferences.

Yes, Annabeth worked at that company as a project manager. Yes, she was the best in her field, the best the company has probably ever had or will ever have. And no, she didn't have a pet. One thing had nothing to do with the other.

Okay, she had to agree: the whole thing was really ironic.

Annabeth dedicated almost her entire life to that company, and the closest thing she ever had to a pet was a half-dead cactus that currently resided on her bookshelf. It was a warrior.

But Pet-Box was a good company. It started as a start-up, then became a unicorn company, and now it was a solid. Annabeth was the most committed project manager any company could have. Which made it difficult for her to complete all her tasks down to the smallest detail, such as checking her email inbox.

She had taken Friday off to work from home, so she could check what was happening outside the project area and even in her own life, like, her brothers who decided to get married and she could only look at the invitation sent three days ago.

Pet-Box's culture was relaxed and even a little different from what a common office usually proposed, but Annabeth liked it, mainly because she received recognition from the CEO very quickly, rising from the position of leader to management in seven months. Chiron absolutely loved her work and she was so grateful for all the support he gave her over the last four years of her professional journey.

The only small inconvenience was that Pet-Box scheduled monthly events for its employees, and the big event that month was a day when everyone could bring their pets.

Excellent! A Monday that smells like dog! It was all she really needed.

Well, Annabeth might bring the half dead cactus.

Chiron had three horses and two rabbits. Couldn't bring the horses to the office for obvious reasons, but he would definitely bring the rabbits. And if Chiron can bring rabbits, then Annabeth can bring a surviving cactus, right?

Next email!

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Analysis of Project 34: Use of Pet Images

Sent two days ago.

Well, well, Percy Jackson finally gave him an opinion.

Annabeth had approached a guy named Ethan Nakamura from the legal team to succeed in a project she was directing her efforts.

The project consisted of the company using videos of some of the customers unboxing the box they received and their pets using Pet-Box products. The marketing team received tons of these videos, whether on Instagram, TikTok, a tag on Twitter... Annabeth realized that all of this could be promising for an online campaign to launch the new product line, and since the people themselves customers made videos and posted them on social media, it seemed like there would be no problem using images; as long as she contacted the client and received prior authorization.

She looked for someone from the legal team available on that specific day and ended up speaking to Nakamura, asking him to analyze the need to prepare a direct contract with the intention of making the video holders sign it, like an image term.

Ethan claimed that it was not necessary, that they could just ask for authorization via email or chats on social platforms and that, if so, the company could use the images taken by customers.

Well, Annabeth soon passed the information on to the marketing team (don't blame her, she's not a lawyer) and they started working on the new campaign.

But in the first video released for advertising, a client freaked out sending a gigantic email claiming that he had signed absolutely nothing authorizing the use of the image of his parrot, which appeared on a brand perch stand.

Annabeth was furious because this was exactly the kind of thing she wanted to avoid, so she had to look for the legal team again, but this time someone with brains and competence.

That's where Percy Jackson came in.

She remembered it as if it were yesterday: him passing her in the pantry to get a coffee, so focused on reading a paper that Annabeth almost beat herself for having called Ethan before talking to the best lawyer in the company.

It's true that Percy was busy with a difficult process, but who knows, maybe he would find some time in his busy schedule to help her?

Thank the gods he got this time.

Percy Jackson joined the company three years after Annabeth, and made a name for himself.

Chiron had already talked to her about Pet-Box's legal team, which was very weak and that he needed a good and honest lawyer urgently to improve things. Percy was an suggestion from one of Chiron's assistants, Grover, and he simply lived up to everything they said about him.

Jackson won the first three cases that were thrown into his lap at the beginning and was simply the lawyer in which the legal director, Nemesis, placed the most trust. Everything the sunshine man touched turned into gold for the company and everyone liked him (some a little too much, she thought).

Annabeth clicked on the email.

“Good evening, Miss Chase. I hope you are doing well.

I took a look at your history with Ethan and the arguments given by Mr. Choi regarding the use of his pet's image.

I'm glad you made the wise decision to suspend the project indefinitely, because under these conditions, we could find ourselves in some trouble, like Mr. Choi, for example.

We do not have a signed contract and there is no proof that his authorization was duly given. Each social network has its Terms and Conditions and, although in some cases it could be enough for us to use the video, I reviewed the one for the one in question and did not find a loophole. We shouldn't have taken for granted that this would work, at least not for all cases, we should have considered the variants. But this is something to discuss as a team error later, so in short: for all intents and purposes, the parrot is under Mr. Choi and everything that concerns the bird will concern the guardian.

I ask that you provide me with details of your project so that I can work on a beneficial contract for both the company and the client and, as soon as Nemesis approves, we can proceed with the action. You might be surprised at how simple this can be resolved (and perhaps more annoyed that we made such a silly mistake, I'm afraid). It's not my job to have ideas, because I'm not a creative man, but just to give an example: perhaps a simple leaflet inside the box, with an incentive to share the use of the products and with fine print about the use of images as published is the beginning of the resolution.

I hope this didn't give you (too much) a headache. You always do a great job. I am an admirer of the project team and the ideas that come out of this well-led team. (Don't tell Nemesis I said that, okay? She already thinks I like the project team manager more than the legal team director).

I await the details and I am at your disposal!

Yours sincerely,

Percy Jackson

Senior Lawyer

Pet-Box"

She tried not to sigh, she swears she tried.

Well, what if she sighed, at least a little... That wasn't anyone's business, because it didn't change anything: Annabeth wouldn't be part of the legion of fans that Percy Jackson accumulated in the company.

They weren't friends, they weren't close by co-worker standards and they didn't even see each other every day. It was just a coincidence that they took breaks at similar times and sometimes he offered her coffee, but the real question is: Annabeth wasn't blind. Percy was too handsome a man to go unharmed.

He was tall, easily reaching 1.90, with fluffy curled blond hair and blue eyes. (Percy seemed to decide which days he would show up with his hair messy or not, which was a fun mind game that Annabeth played alone: Did Percy did his hair today? In his defense, most days she saw him the answer was yes). He had a friendly boyish smile and a shyness evidenced by the square glasses he wore, especially when he read — and he read a lot, with the work he had. (Annabeth had a thing about the view of men reading, but she believed it had to do more with the general female gaze in general than herself).

He was also very shy, from what Annabeth could judge. That was the main reason why she didn't insist on be friends. She always let him make the same casual conversations — good morning, afternoon, or night. A lot of work, right? Do you want sugar in your coffee? — And she tried hard to never make him uncomfortable, like certain collaborators did.

Percy was also very oblivious. He didn't seem to realize when someone was hitting on him or not. Even though, believe her, 95% of the time someone outside his area interacted with him, the person was certainly flirting.

For example: one day, Annabeth took a random break from her shift to fill her water bottle, when she found Percy in the little room next to the common water fountain, struggling with the company printer.

There was a woman with him. Well, maybe not with him, but she was there. It was Aisha from the art department, whom Annabeth stared at scandalized like a British Regency prude, as if two people couldn't coexist in the same space without a promiscuous act, until she realized they weren't together. Although Aisha very obviously wanted to.

“Can you excuse me? I need to use the printer.” Percy asked, politely, but a little sullenly. Aisha left, disappointed at having missed the opportunity to occupy the same cramped space as him.

Percy punched (Annabeth didn't feel anything at the sight) the side of the printer at the same moment Aisha asked a question. Then, when he didn't listen, she cleared her throat and tried again.

“I asked: how is your day?” That made him look away from his struggle with the printer, blinking behind his glasses, hair comically out of place, looking confused when he realized Aisha hadn't left.

"My day? My day has been…” Annabeth was sure he was going to say terrible. Because that's what his body language was all about and, well, you could always have a bad day when working in an office.

But, right at that moment, Percy met her gaze over Aisha's shoulder, making eye contact with Annabeth.

She, who wasn't sure why she had stayed there, nodded strangely. She was slightly embarrassed about being caught peeping or something, but Percy didn't comment on it. In fact, he smiled his good dimpled smile and replied:

"Whatever. But it can always get better, right? ”

Annabeth walked to his side, silently, surprising Aisha who also didn't seem to realize she was there.

Percy's chin almost touched his own chest when he lowered his gaze to look at her.

Annabeth stuck her fingers on the printer roller, removing a bunch of stuck paper that she knew would be there. When she pulled, her elbow grazed his arm.

“Here, it should work now.” Annabeth pushed some crumpled paper into his hand, who was still smiling with shining eyes as if she had just performed a miracle.

“Thank you very much, miss Chase.” Annabeth didn't really like her last name. She thought it was too sober, a bit grim. But she liked the way Percy said it, with his thick New York accent.

When they realized, Aisha was gone.

“Oh, no. I just ruined your date today.” Percy's smile changed to a confused one, which forced her to explain herself. “She was about to ask you for one, but I think you knew.” When his gaze remained blank, Annabeth relented, perhaps to herself. “Yeah, okay... Maybe you didn’t know.”

There was no room for Annabeth to feel bad about scaring the woman away, however, because Percy explained to her that he already had plans. Because despite everything, he was Grover and Rachel's friend, Chiron's assistant and the accounts associate.

Many invited him to happy hour and some dates, but Percy was always silent, shy and quite restrained. He always politely declined invitations and offered a friendly, dimpled smile that could light up the entire building and make a woman or two swoon.

Annabeth wasn't one of those women, of course not. The poor guy was already harassed almost every day, the least she could do was leave him alone.

Well, at least until now. It wasn't her fault if he was one of the few competent ones in that place. And if she really liked the way his gentle personality came across even through email, it was no big deal. The fact that she read the email three times didn’t mean anything either. Percy Jackson didn’t talk much, so you had to pay attention when he wrote, right? Right.

For example, that email made her realize that Percy would one day be a good leader, just because of the way he held the responsibility for mistakes to the team and not to a single person. It was also refreshing to think that, for a change, a man was readily helping to solve her problems at work instead of creating new ones.

In a strange and unexpected way, she realized that she trusted him.

Tossing her braids behind her shoulder, Annabeth began composing her response email.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Analysis of Project 34: Use of Pet Images

“Good evening, Mr. Jackson. I’m fine, how are you?”

Thank you very much for your quick response, I’m happy to have you In the legal part of the project. I am sure that we will be able to resolve the issue in the shortest possible time.

I would also like to thank you for the compliments on my department, it means a lot to all of us. I will certainly take your feedback to my team, which has the help of the legal department for the next projects that will arise.

I am attaching the entire sketch and official proposal for project 34 with Chiron’s signature and also Nakamura for the primary method for the pet owners.

I also make myself available to talk quickly in person on Monday, just to align the points and clear up some doubts. As the office will be busy due to pet-day, I believe we can talk first thing in the morning, before the pet-boxers show up with their pets and pet-dominate the pet-office for pet-day.

Oh! And I promise that my pet won’t bother yours during our alignment, you can rest assured about that. Generally, pets-cactus are silent and don’t harm anyone (please don’t pet it, it can hurt).

Thanks again for all the support. Count on me and my team for any needs that arise.

Yours sincerely,

Annabeth Chase

Project Manager

Pet Box

PS. That’s my secret: my work always gives me a headache. But what can I do if I love it? Oh, and your secret is kept with me. However, at the end of the year, when we are having a silly dynamic of ‘Who is the coolest team manager in the company?’ and the project team manager curiously receives a single anonymous vote, I will know it was you.

(1 attachment)”

Annabeth sent the email without thinking too much. Honestly, all the reading of the day had left her tired enough to lose some of her normal office tone.

Every woman in the corporate environment learned early on that it was better to be succinct, and even risk appearing frigid, so that men wouldn’t think you were interested in anything other than work, but... That was Percy Jackson. Annabeth wasn’t a bad judge of character, so she figured that even if she hadn’t sounded entirely professional, maybe Percy would understand her. She knew he saw her working constantly and holding meetings with her team in the brainstorming room, he had even praised her leadership, for God’s sake. He would never doubt her professionalism because of a more relaxed email and a silly joke... Right? I guess I’ll have to wait and see.

Well, that was enough for a friday.

Closing the notebook and picking up her cold and empty mug of tea, Annabeth left her small office to leave the porcelain mug (which obviously had a paw drawn on it with the slogan “We love your pet”) on the sink. She could procrastinating washing the dishes, because that was the fun of living alone. So what if her younger brothers were on their way to the altar? She could stay up late and not wash the dishes.

Annabeth set aside a frozen lasagna for her dinner before going to take a shower. Her plans for the rest of that Friday night were, God willing, to do absolutely nothing.

On the way to her room, Annabeth almost jumped when she remembered that she would have to take her only party dress to the cleaners the next morning if she wanted to have it brand new by Monday.

Maybe it was strange that she was already thinking about her wedding outfit, but the thing was, she didn’t have many options. She owned a beautiful satiny purple dress, which was the only appropriate piece for the wedding. Besides, her wardrobe wasn’t exactly... Versatile.

Helena hadn’t mentioned anything about colors and Annabeth didn’t feel very willing to spend a lot of money on a new piece. Money was not na issue, but rather the fact that the dress would only be worn once, and still related to a horrible memory (which, yes, that was what the brothers’ marriage was destined to become, Annabeth already knew).

The only party dress she owned would have to do, there was no other option. It was either it or going with one of the office outfits from her wardrobe: shades of gray and beige, ranging from knee-length pencil skirts to button-up shirts or formal pants.

She wore the dress the year before for the company’s year-end party, when she was still a leader and not a manager. The dress unfortunately suffered na outrage when a guy from the sales team bumped into Annabeth and dropped a hot dog on her. Suddenly, not only was she experimenting with wearing something outside of her comfort zone, but she was covered in sauce from the waist down. See? That’s why Annabeth didn’t leave her comfort zone.

She had managed to reduce the damage to the washing machine, but there was still a persistent stain in the area. As the dress had been stored for months, she would definitely need to take it to the dry cleaners for finishing touches.

The dress was separated and hung on the back of the bedroom door so she wouldn’t forget to take it the next morning, and soon after, Annabeth took her long shower and ate her extremely healthy dinner.

Time flew by to a Friday night and when Annabeth noticed, she was already in bed with her notebook on her lap.

It was stronger than her. Yes, no one should work that hard and deep down Annabeth knew it wasn’t good to focus so much effort on her work, but why shouldn’t she? She didn’t have a close family to talk to and she felt like she might cross the line by going out with her coworkers on a Friday night. Although they invited her, and many were considered her friends, Annabeth didn’t want them to hold back from speaking badly about the company or a specific job because of her presence, which was natural among the employees. And it’s not like she had a boyfriend to spend the night watching movies with, or whatever it is that people dating in their late 20s did together. Maybe the job was exactly what she needed.

And anyway, Annabeth just wanted to check that no email had gone unnoticed despite all its thoroughness.

Annabeth’s eyes narrowed when she saw the only email marked “unread” in her inbox. Answer from Percy Jackson.

She blinked, looking at the top corner of the screen: almost half past midnight. Percy had responded exactly 23 minutes ago. Way outside of his working hours.

Her first instinct as a manager was reprimand. Because it was extremely inappropriate: she sent the email at the last hour of the legal department’s last shift. Yeah, okay, she shouldn’t be checking emails late at night, but Percy shouldn’t be responding either. And, without wanting to start a competition between which of the two was more unbalanced in terms of schedules, but one of the actions required much more effort than the other, and it wasn’t hers.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Analysis of Project 34: Use of Pet Images

“Good evening, Miss Chase! I’m very well, thank you for asking!

First of all, I would like to apologize for the time. I know that you probably won’t read this email until Monday, and I’m not trying to force a response over the weekend in any way. I’ve already noticed that you direct your team members very well to have a healthy workload, but I would really like to give you a answer as quickly as possible, so we would have the complete content to talk about during pet day (which is your favorite day of the year, I realize). Besides, I’m not on your department, so you can’t scold me.”

Annabeth let out a giggle through her nose. Now! Percy Jackson, senior lawyer-star, did have a sense of humor, after all. She liked that he was able to recognize her sarcasm about Pet Day and responded in kind. Plus, she imagined him saying the last part like a naughty boy, sticking his tongue out at her, which made her smile again.

“I wrote a draft of a contract that I believe would be applicable to project 34 and I apologize in advance for not revising it. I was busy with other things at the same time and, due to my dyslexia, it is possible that I changed a word or two. Please bear in mind that this is just a draft.

In art. 6th item 3 of the contract, I offered the client a exemption of 2 (two) months of boxing if the client agrees to provide the image of their pet, together with a credit bonus with Pet-Box.

I confess that I'm not sure if this directly impacts your project, but if you have any other suggestions or think I was too generous, please feel free to raise these questions during our brief conversation on Monday.”

He really was being too generous, Annabeth thought, shaking her head affectionately. Soon after, she restricted herself, looking at the empty room, finding it strange to be reading too fondly what should have been a work email.

“The attached contract is capable of editing if you wish to make notes and/or comments.

I would like to inform you that I also spoke with Ethan and have already joined our team to discuss what could be beneficial for the company and the client, when the project department seeks us for support.

Once again, I apologize for the inconvenient time and I make myself fully available to answer any further questions (at appropriate times, of course).

Yours sincerely,

Percy Jackson

Senior Lawyer

Pet Box

PS: I promise not to pet your pet-cactus for the sake of my physical integrity, but feel free to touch my pet-actual-pet yourself: Mrs. O’Leary. She is extremely docile and loves having her ears scratched, I’m sure she will like your affection too.”

No.

Annabeth didn’t sigh again.

She appreciated competent people, but she especially liked a good email. It was the reader in her: she couldn’t help but enjoy a good piece of writing, especially if the person on the other end seemed to have stopped and thought about her words. Percy Jackson didn’t seem like the type to waste words, whether spoken or written, so she decided that she liked the way he worked and wrote. She never had long conversations with him, but she felt like she knew him better now. He seemed fine... Even in a email, he was in line with what she already thought of him: professional, charismatic and kind.

It was enough to make her feel tempted to respond, but of course she didn’t. Percy would never know that she had read it herself outside of work hours or that she had reread her email three times, above all.

Let’s just say that Annabeth understood his legion of fans a little better now.

She could imagine him running his hand through his hair and over his face beneath the frames of his glasses as he frantically typed the contract. Tired, definitely. Probably in his bed, like Annabeth was now, with notebook on his lap. A completely inappropriate scenario for anyone who wasn’t a workaholic, like her. How many hours had he dedicated to solving all of Annabeth’s problems as quickly as possible? He didn’t need to read the contract to know that it was in perfect condition to be used. And the idea of exemption? If Percy wasn’t such a good lawyer, she’d probably invite him to join the project team.

Nemesis would probably try to kill her, and even Chiron would be against the idea, but in reward Annabeth could make him revert to his impertinence and scold him for working overtime.

She shook her head, silently berating herself for what was her corporate version of intrusive thoughts that were interrupted by a yawn.

Well, it was time for bed.

Annabeth closed her notebook for the second time that day and placed it on the floor next to the bed, saving a mental note to take the dress to the cleaners the next day and read the contract that Percy had so diligently drawn up.

With that in mind as she slept, she no longer thought about how alone she was feeling.

Annabeth Chase, project manager and dedicated Pet-box employee, entered the corporate elevator with a bag slung over her shoulder, a bagged dress dangling from her right forearm, and the cactus in perfect condition in her left hand.

It was early on a Monday, there weren’t many people in the company and she was pleased with that. It would be great to have a full hour of fresh air before the smell of different animals invaded her nostrils.

She liked the stillness of the first few hours of work every day. But since that day, specifically, was destined to be anything but quiet, she wanted to enjoy it while she could.

Before the elevator doors closed, however, a arm stopped them.

Annabeth might roll her eyes. Okay, it was stupid and petty that she bothered sharing the elevator, but she really didn’t want to open her mouth to even say “good morning.” Breathe, Annabeth. Had she already mentioned that pet-days used to be stinky days? It would be a long, smelly day, she couldn’t stop thinking about her brothers’ wedding and everything else seemed designed to irritate her.

Well, that was until Percy Jackson got into the elevator.

At least her day wouldn’t start off smelling like dog, as the fresh smell of sea air and nice perfume filled the air.

He smiled and said, “Oh! Good morning, Miss Chase!” As if he was surprised to see her literally at the first working hour of the day. Without seeming the least bit disappointed, however. Annabeth tried to respond with a warm smile, but if she was already bad on normal days, it was even worse when she saw the full picture of the situation.

Percy took a step into the cubicle and it was as if his height and... His entire body took up more space than necessary.

He was wearing tailored slacks, a blue shirt wrapped around his forearms tucked into his pants with the top three buttons undone, and a brown leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Furthermore, he was holding a... Collar?

She only realized that she was spending a lot of time looking up, directly and very blatantly evaluating him (Wow! He had even cut his hair! Who would have thought that pet days would lead to things like that) when Percy looked back at her, with his easy smile that gave her a reality check. It was only after said that Annabeth noticed the presence of the huge dog. Like, a really big, the kind that if it stood on its two hind legs it would probably reach her height or more.

Working at Pet-Box, Annabeth learned a few things about pets in general, but especially about dogs, being the most common ones. For example, she knew that flat-faced breeds like pugs and bulldogs had breathing problems, that border collies often topped the list of most intelligent breeds, and that shit-zus had a penchant for eating their own poop if they got anxious.

What she also knew was that dogs shouldn't be that big.

Annabeth huddled against the corner of the elevator, trying to manage to hold everything: the dress, the bag and the cactus without dropping any, while also using them as shields. A minute ago, she was sure and grateful that she would have the elevator to herself. Now, not only was she not alone, she was with a huge man and his huge dog. Both looking unapologetically willing to take up as much space as possible.

Percy hesitated, still holding the doors open with his forearm. He looked down at his dog, who looked back at him, peaceful.

“You didn’t tell me you’re afraid of dogs.” It sounded like an accusation, like they were long-time best friends and she'd been keeping a dirty secret, so Annabeth instinctively got defensive:

“I'm not afraid of dogs, but you didn't tell me she was the size of a beetle car.” Percy tilted his head to one side, curious, as if she needed to be deciphered. The movement made him look... Well, like a puppy.

“She’s a Newfoundland.” He spoke, finally, as if that explained everything. “One of the small ones, by the way.”

Annabeth's jaw dropped.

“One of the small ones?! That’s not possible, she’s almost my size.” Percy assessed her again, this time less curious and more contemplative. It wasn't strange, it was natural. In fact, his eyes ran over her body so briefly that for a moment Annabeth thought she had imagined it. She also thought she was having a fever dream when he whispered barely audibly under his breath:

“Not that it’s difficult.” Was he... Teasing her? That was Percy Jackson, the lawyer who until last week couldn't maintain eye contact with her without blushing and now he was making fun of her height?! Okay, a harmless joke and all, besides, when Annabeth looked up shocked to look at him, he was blushing, a somewhat uncertain smile on his face, probably not knowing how she would take it all.

Annabeth was more surprised than offended, to be honest. Then she rolled her eyes, to let him know it was okay.

“Come in.” She grumbled, looking to the side. Percy hesitated again, staring at the dog and then Annabeth back. At the same time, he didn't let the elevator door close, as if he didn't know if he should go in, but also didn't want to give up yet.

"I do not want to bother you." He seemed sincere, but they would be there forever if they were both complacent. Then Annabeth lifted her chin and did something she knew how to do well: give orders.

“You're bothering me by holding the elevator. And it will bother me even more if you don’t get into this one and wait for the next, so get in, both of you.”

Annabeth tried not to notice how adorable Percy's shy blush was on his cheeks, as was his persistent smile, and she managed long enough to realize that she had been inelegant in not responding to his charismatic good morning.

OK, let's go:

“Good morning, Mr. Jackson!” She tried, as if the previous interaction hadn't happened. They were inside, and the elevator door closed. “And good morning… Mrs. O’Leary, right?”

She saw him let out a deep breath.

"Yes, that's right. Mrs. O'Leary." The dog sat up on it paws and looked at Annabeth, slackening her jaw, as if it was... Smiling? "I imagine you've already read my email, then." Percy scratched the back of his head and fiddled with Mrs.'s O'Leary leash nervously. "I'm sorry about that, I really hoped you wouldn't read it until this morning. I'm aware of your rigidity regarding schedules with your team and of course you're right about that, I just want to have the solution ready as soon as possible."

It was cute, the way Percy slipped right into formal lawyer language from time to time. That was a problem. Or rather, it was a problem that Annabeth noticed it often.

"It's more than fine, Mr. Jackson. I read the contract, made the notes yesterday and honestly I really liked it. I think you would do very well on the project team or in the partnerships department, if you weren't already a good attorney." Percy smiled more widely after that, his chest turning to face her.

"Thanks." Mrs. O'Leary decided to participate in the conversation, sniffing Annabeth's legs covered in light-colored tailored pants. She I hadn't been lying before when she said she wasn't afraid of dogs, it had been more of a survival instinct for coming across an animal the size of a lion. Now that the surprise was over, Annabeth found herself wanting to pet the dog, who, in her honest opinion, was one of the prettiest she had seen. But her hands were pretty full right now, so she was about to at least say the compliment out loud when Percy spoke first: "Cute. Your pet-cactus."

It was Annabeth's turn to blush. "Yeah, he's kind of... Hm... Dead, I guess?" Annabeth liked cactus, or at least the idea of them. That one was pretty, or had once been, when it was round and healthy. Now it was withered and gray, but no one can point that out other than herself. “I’m not very good at taking care of plants. Or rather, it's an exceptional talent that I managed to kill a cactus." She sighed. "Your dog is very beautiful, by the way. I've never seen such a big one."

Percy puffed out his chest and accepted the compliment, looking at the animal fondly.

"It was a gift from my stepfather, she was rescued from a shelter. I think he just didn't expect her to grow so much, none of us did. My mother wanted to kill him."

As if she knew that was the topic of conversation, Mrs. O'Leary barked at Annabeth, who flinched in fright, the noise echoing in the elevator. Yet the dog was still smiling contentedly with her tongue out.

"Mrs. O'Leary." Percy said, sharply, in a commanding voice, his brow furrowed. Annabeth didn't feel anything about it. "Sorry about that, she's usually pretty quiet. I trained her since she was a puppy, since my parents and I lived in an apartment before she got huge."

"She seems to be quite obedient."

“Yeah, she just really liked you, I guess.” Mrs. O'Leary barked once more, "Shh!" Percy looked embarrassed, and increasingly surprised, by his dog's bad manners.

"It's okay. I really liked her too." Annabeth maneuvered the cactus to the hand where she had hung her dress. With her fingers free, she let the animal sniff her palm for a few seconds before going up to stroke its ear. She gasped happily. "You're a good girl, Mrs. O'Leary! Very, very pretty!"

Annabeth didn't even like dogs, where was it coming from? Anyway, she continued:

"And the best of all? You don’t stink!” That got a laugh from Percy.

“You seem surprised.”

"I am! You know dogs tend to smell like dogs, especially furry ones like her.” But Mrs. O'Leary's fur was black and shiny, soft and clean. She looked like she had just left the pet store, and that's exactly what Percy said afterwards:

“She has her moments, we can't lie, because she loves running on grass. But we had to go to the groom for a special days like this, didn’t we?” He said the last part to the dog, but Annabeth allowed herself to look up at him with his freshly cut hair.

“And you too, right?” Percy blushed a deeper shade of red, starting at his neck and moving up to his face. Annabeth had to resist the urge to praise him directly like she had with Mrs. O'Leary, or to pet him behind the ear.

“Yes.” He finally admitted, shyly. Annabeth bit her lip and turned her attention to the animal’s neck, needing to pretend to Mrs O’Leary that she didn’t like making her owner blush. She was thumping her tail harder against the ground now, excited.

“You’re good with dogs.” Percy observed, after a moment of silence.

“I always liked cats more, but my family never let me have one.”

He pretended to cover Mrs. O’Leary’s ears at this part, which made Annabeth laugh, and just then the elevator stopped, opening. Percy motioned for her to go first, holding the door.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t pet your pet-cactus, but who knows, maybe you’ll discover that you have the talent to take care of a real pets and bring it to the office? Mrs. O’Leary appreciates your company, that’s for sure.” As Annabeth walked past him, Percy had to hold the leash tighter, stopping Mrs. O’Leary to follow her.

Every time he faced the situation with a genuine expression of confusion, it felt more like the first time he had seen his dog acting like that towards someone other than himself.

“Or I can just love other people’s pets from afar,” They walked side by side down the elevator corridor. Annabeth couldn’t help but notice that Percy was taking the long way to get to his office, which was on the opposite side of the floor. “Pet-Box: We love your pet!” She recited the slogan with a exaggerated smile and intonation, making Percy smile.

When they arrived at the glass door of her office, his shoulders shrugged a little, although it was no surprise that they had arrived.

“Well, I... I’ll read your notes on the contract and adjust everything.” He fixed his glasses with his index finger. “I’ll send you a copy when Nemesis approves.”

“That’s fine by me, Mr. Jackson.” Annabeth opened the door and Mrs. O’Leary wagged her tail, her huge paws hitting the floor to step forward, ready to enter the room with her. She seemed super excited to met a new environment.

“Not here, girl.” Percy held the leash tighter, stopping her from entering with Annabeth. Mrs. O’Leary made a heartbreaking crying sound. “I’m sorry, she must have liked you more than I thought.”

“It’s ok.” She smiled at the Newfoundland, who began to fuss on her paws, seeming to want to climb onto Annabeth even though Percy tried to restrain her. The two were sure that Mrs. O’Leary’s plans were to knock Annabeth down and fill her with licks and caresses, which really worried Annabeth a lot. “She’s pretty lively, huh?” She said, with a weird smile.

Scratching the giant dog’s ears was one thing, now having the animal wanting to climb on top of her was enough to make her on the verge of panicking. A cat wouldn’t do that.

Percy noticed Annabeth’s discomfort and tried to move away a little more.

“Yeah, she... She’s always like that, when it’s time to say goodbye. You know how it is, right?” He gave a strange laugh. Annabeth tried not to let her chest heat up at that. It was cute to see him lie, because he was a terrible liar.

“Really?” She pressed, hoping to see him blush more. Instead, however, Percy gave in and confessed:

“No, this is the first time.” Annabeth actually laughed at the surprise of him going back on his lie so easily. Percy also smiled, holding Mrs. O’Leary by the collar around her neck, forcing her to stay on the ground. He seemed capable of handling her, Annabeth didn’t doubt that. Still, it was obvious that she only had size but was harmless, and that she didn’t usually bring trouble.

By the way Percy shook his head, he looked disappointed and worried. “Sorry about that. I’m going to need to... Have a talk with her later.” Mrs. O’Leary pricked up her ears, as if she knew her owner was talking about her.

“And you can also have a chat with me again later, maybe at coffee time.” She said, walking backwards into the room.

Percy’s eyes widened a little in surprise. Annabeth only then realized that her sentence had perhaps sounded a bit... Flirtatious? She was about to explain herself, which would probably make everything worse, when he spoke first:

“For sure.” He replied, sounding a little breathless looking at her. In a way, it looked like he was copying Mrs. O’Leary’s look at Annabeth, with eyes and ears alert, excited. He smiled, blinking before making his way to the office.

Annabeth dropped the dress on the armchair in front of her desk and walked around to sit in the swivel chair, placing the walking-dead cactus proudly next to the computer.

It was time to start the day.

It took four cups of coffee for Annabeth to last until the middle of the day.

By the time she realized it, she had already participated in three exhaustive meetings (who the hell invented video calls to carry out “quick” alignments that could be resolved with an email?), discussed a project with the sales department and received the final version of the contract made by senior lawyer Percy Jackson and approved by the legal director, Nêmesis. Annabeth had also asked Silena, from the marketing team, to start creating art for Percy’s idea of the flyer inside the monthly box. She would have to request Chiron’s approval for the action and would have to convince the marketing director that it would be an action that would bear fruit.

The floor reeked of dogs or animals in general, exactly as she knew it would. A intern’s German shepherd almost scared one of Chiron’s rabbits to death, which consequently almost killed Chiron in the process (which was an added embarrassment because the company was almost left without a CEO). Two cats had peed on the plants in the workstation space, and they were plastic. They needed to call the cleaning team, who were especially busy that day, although Annabeth was pretty sure that one of the pet-day rules was that each owner had to clean up after their pet. Annabeth made this observation out loud, which resulted in the cat’s owner, in his formal work clothes, taking the vase downstairs to be discarded. He would probably hate her for it, but she didn’t care, because having a cactus didn’t seem so bad now, did it?

The worst thing was that, despite all the chaos, people actually seemed to be happier in the presence of the animals, and not even Annabeth could deny that. Even with the setbacks, Monday was productive. Like, Clarisse La Rue from the operations team didn’t even complain when Annabeth asked for the logistics data for the last 30 deliveries. Seriously, the woman just kept petting her pinscher (which was scarier than Percy’s dog even though it was about 10 times smaller) and muttered “Uhm, I’ll send you in 20 minutes”. Was amazing.

Well, well, it seems that there really was an advantage to having a pet day, which is not just another throwback to contemporary capitalism’s need to pretend that it cares about people’s mental health. Okay, Annabeth still thinks that’s it, but she could admit that it wasn’t all bad. Mrs. O’Leary was cute, too.

She had only seen Percy again near the coffee machine, reading (as usual) paperwork that she would never touch if she had the chance.

He nodded at her and handed her the coffee he’d ordered from the machine, adorably multitasking with the paper in his other hand. Percy used to do this, sometimes because the coffee capsules were about to run out, other times because Annabeth was in a rush and didn’t want to wait for the machine to work. Well, she didn’t know how he knew that, nor how he always knew how she liked her coffee, but it didn’t matter, because it meant she got her drink in record time, at the perfect temperature to drink straight.

Annabeth thanked him and left so Percy could wait for the next coffee to be ready with some peace, because she imagined that was what he wanted. He seemed focused and didn’t want to get in the way, mainly because herself hated people doing that to her when was concentrating on work.

“Here you go, boss.” Malcolm, the leader of the projects department entered her office with Annabeth’s food.

Malcolm had offered to buy her lunch since they both wanted Mediterranean food. He was kind and a good friend to have in the office.

“Thank you, Malcolm. You’re amazing.” She sighed, turning her attention from the screens to her friend, who sat in the chair in front of the table, starting to unpack his own food.

“Tell that to Chiron when you become director of commercial or something and the management position opens up.” He teased, giving a wink.

“Your boyfriend works in compliance, remember? I’m going to file a report.” Annabeth moved some things away from the table, keyboard, diary, notebooks and notepad, making a mess but leaving considerable space to get lunch, which was what mattered. “Speaking of him, isn’t he going to accompany us today?”

“No, he’s working from home. He’s allergic to animal dander.”

“What a bastard! Meanwhile I’m here suffering from all these animals!” She complained, but Malcolm knew it wasn’t entirely true. Annabeth wasn’t that bitter, and she wouldn’t stop coming to the office on that whim.

“Genuine question, did you read the company description when you applied to work here? The company name has “Pet” in it, man.” Malcolm said, mouth full.

“I imagined I would work in administration at a dog food factory.” She replied, shrugging, making him narrow his eyes.

“Bullshit. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

Annabeth gave in: “Okay, I knew. But it’s not like I don’t like pets, it’s just that all of them together on one floor is crazy, right? You have to agree with me. Parrots, rabbits and snakes. Cats and dogs. What is this, Noah’s ark?!” Malcolm smiled.

“I agree. I have a pretty antisocial kitten who wouldn’t like it if I brought her into the office today.”

“What about Juan’s allergies?” Annabeth was devouring her salad as they talked, the busy day leaving her hungry.

“He can handle a cat, the problem is several animals in one place.”

“Just like me.” Malcolm looked at her skeptically, raising his left eyebrow. “Okay, without the allergy part.” They laughed.

“But I’m sending him photos of the pets, because he thinks they’re cute.”

Annabeth groaned, massaging her forehead.

“Oh, don’t even get me started on pets and photos. I had a huge headache with project 34.”

“I imagine...” Malcolm copied his grimace, picking at his food. “I’m sorry for my lack of attention, I thought the project was so good that I had already engaged the team to assemble the structure without even thinking about the details.” Malcolm took a sip of his juice, while Annabeth drink coke.

“It’s okay. I didn’t realize it either until the shit hit the fan. Nakamura stressed me out a little, I’m not going to lie.”

“He has a crush on you, he must have been distracted when you went to talk to him.”

“He does not have a crush me!” Annabeth protested, truly horrified. Ethan was a handsome man and all, but his inability to sound coherent and the fact that he seemed weak-minded couldn’t be ignored. His mistake at work shouldn’t be explained by something like that, not even as a joke.

“I could count on both hands a few men and women on this floor who definitely have a thing for you, Annabeth.” Malcolm held back a laugh, shaking his head. “But you’re so intimidating...”

“This is not true.” She cut him off, feeling herself flush with anger. She knew Malcolm hadn’t meant to offend her or anything, but this kind of thing threatened to come very close to what her stepmother was saying, very close to making her really hurt. “And I’m not intimidating.” He grimaced. “Well, anyway, Jackson took care of everything and sent me the contract to have on hand in case we do something with a customer’s pet. He also gave me some ideas about incentive flyers for customers to take photos of the products and post on social media. Like Starbucks that purposely writes your name wrong on the cup so you can take a photo and post it with the caption ‘Look, they wrote Anabelle instead of Annabeth lol’, you know? I forgot to tell him personally about this, by the way.”

Malcolm crossed his legs and spoke after swallowing the yellow rice, “That’s a pretty good idea, actually. We can structure this and send it to Chiron.” The manager nodded in agreement, shoving a full forkful into her mouth. “I’m not surprised that Percy had a good idea like that. In fact, he’s another one who has a crush on you.”

Annabeth choked.

Including coughing, pounding on the chest, shortness of breath and everything else. Malcolm didn’t lift a finger as she almost died, seeming to find the scene quite funny.

“You’re crazy. I’m going to fire you, Malcolm, I swear I will!” He laughed at his boss’s outburst, for real now, as she took another sip of coke to ease her airflow.

“Nah. You love me too much to send me out. Even if I tell the truth to your face.”

“And even if you say nonsense like those.” Malcolm gave her a bored look as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“Annabeth, he drools when he sees you walking across the floor. I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re a goddess.” Annabeth blinked, eyes widening, stopping in the middle of what she was doing.

She had never stopped to think about things like that because, as a general rule, dating was the last thing on her mind when she was at work. She didn’t flirt, she didn’t entertain the interest of co-workers and she even judged a little, in her heart, people who did either of the two. That was why women hitting on Percy Jackson at any opportunity irritated her so much, right?

“If we exchange more than 20 words for a whole week, that’s a lot.” She reasoned, trying to get Malcolm to acknowledge that he was being irrational, for the sake of her mental health.

But all she got was for her friend to roll his eyes, impatiently, as if he was upset at having to convince someone that the sky is blue.

“Because he’s shy. And although I’m sure 90% of women want to have sex with him and therefore flirt relentlessly, you’re not one of them. He must be afraid to make a move.”

“What are those statistics, Malcolm?”

“The other 10% includes lesbians, asexuals and Rachel. Maybe some married women... Ah! And I didn’t even mention men! I think if I asked Juan, he would agree to a threesome...”

“Enough about that!” Annabeth stuck a fork in her mouth and moved away her cunning thoughts, shaking his head.

Malcolm ignored her, commenting absently: “Well, his dog is adorable. She’s quite imposing, it even looks a little scary because of her size, but she’s so quiet and good.”

“Quiet and good?” He repeated, arching na eyebrow. “She almost knocked me over this morning asking for affection.”

“How strange... I stroked her ears this morning to take a photo for Juan and she took advantage of it but barely moved. Percy told me she was always well-behaved like that.”

Well, that wasn’t what Annabeth had seen.

“Maybe I got the wrong impression, then.” She gave in, quietly.

“Anyway, what’s that black bag on the armchair? Is it a body or some clothes?” Malcolm nodded toward the dress stretched out on the armchair in the corner of the room behind him. Sunlight hit the cover, which was good for killing the dust mites that were building up on it.

“It’s my stepmother’s body. Please don’t call the police.” Annabeth said blankly, gathering what was left of the food. Malcolm laughed.

“No really, I’m going to lose the best boss ever.” They laughed together then, and after they stopped, Annabeth told the truth:

“It’s a party dress.” She sighed sadly before adding: “My brothers are getting married in three weeks.” And she ate the last of the food.

Malcolm jumped up in his chair.

“Both?! On the same day?!” She nodded, quietly. He knew exactly how to react: “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry...”

Malcolm was one of the few people who knew about Annabeth’s family situation, that the situation was cause for regret rather than excitement.

“It’s okay, I’ll deal with it.” Annabeth shrugged, gathering the packaging to discard.

“Of course you will, sweetheart.” He reached for Annabeth’s hand, eyes kind and full of good intentions. “You will handle everything magnificently, everything will be fine.”

But it wouldn’t.

Annabeth said she would handle it, which was true, but she already knew it wouldn’t be magnificent and everything would definitely not be okay. Maybe it would get even worse than it already was, which was no small feat.

It had been three hours since lunch time and there were three more hours until the day ended.

It wasn’t a bad day at all, if she was being honest. The way she was before, even with everything, she could handle it. Annabeth’s mistake, however, was the bad idea of reading the email that appeared on her inbox page as soon as it came up, even though it was during business hours and that very obviously said a personal topic.

Suddenly, Annabeth felt capable of killing someone at any moment.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Your brothers are getting MARRIED!

Good afternoon, Annabeth. I hope you are well.

I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t respond to your brothers’ wedding invitation email, sent 5 days ago. I always knew that you don’t know how to value your own family, but I was very surprised that you didn’t even deign to confirm your presence.

Do we need to beg to be graced with your visit? Your brothers are getting married! And it will be a double wedding, how am I going to tell your father that his eldest daughter didn’t want to attend due to a tantrum?

Of course, I am understanding of the circumstances this marriage involves. I know it can’t be easy to see your younger siblings getting married first, while you’re almost 30 and your only prospect of a serious relationship is with your job. Besides, I know you’ve always been jealous of the beautiful family I built with your father, and I’ve spent my whole life trying to be understanding with you. I understand that this may cause discomfort, but can you give up your selfishness and participate in Bobby and Mattew’s lives? They adore you! Think about how traumatic it would be for both of them not to have their older sister present at their wedding on a whim? It’s not their fault if you’re a doomed spinster.

If the question is party clothes, I imagine that money is not a problem for you. That dog company you work for should at least pay you for overtime, right? And speaking of money, if you don’t confirm your presence soon, the rooms in the house will be full with other relatives and as we are investing a lot in the wedding, we won’t be able to afford a hotel room for you. The good news is that single rooms are generally cheaper, honey.

Anyway, could you please find five minutes in your extremely busy life to tell me if we can count on your presence? I have to explain to your father by tomorrow so we can prepare for your arrival (or not).

In fact, if you don’t want to come, I’ll make you tell him directly, as well as Matthew and Bobby. You need to start recognizing that you voluntarily exclude yourself from our family, even though I’m sure you tell yourself otherwise, so you can sleep at night. If you don’t respond within a day, this is what I will tell your father.

Have a great day, Annabeth.

Helena Chase”

Annabeth stared at the screen without blinking or moving for a long minute, her fists clenched, until her vision began to get blurry. She felt furious, embarrassed, and sad all at the same time, but she didn’t know how to physically react to what she had just read.

Her breathing came back suddenly, heavy, and she blinked several times in a row.

Her eyes flicked over the words “doomed spinster,” “whim,” “selfishness” and Annabeth felt like she could burst an artery at her stepmother’s audacity. If Helena was angry writing that email, Annabeth could dismember someone after reading it.

Annabeth has never had a mother figure, and Helena has always made a point of being as distant from that as possible. Even though she had never met her real mother, who died shortly after giving birth, Helena never even wanted to pretend that Annabeth was really her daughter.

It was always the same speech: there was the Chase family, and then there was Annabeth, who was also a Chase, but was kind of an aggregate. It didn’t matter if she was the first daughter, it didn’t matter if Frederick Chase had once loved her mother or not, Helena always made it clear that the family had started to form when she came along, and that was it.

Obviously, Helena was also complacent. Or rather, she was passive-aggressive: of course Annabeth could call the twins her brothers, of course they would always have a place for her. They always talked a lot about how they were a family, about how her father’s remarriage didn’t mean he was abandoning her and never letting the matter drop. The constant topic left Annabeth confused during her adolescence, but today she understood better. It didn’t matter how much they talked about it, because in practice she never felt included.

It was like a big game of pretend: they could pretend, for an hour or two, that they were one big family, and it would be great. But then playtime was over, and it was time to go home. Helena would act like she was doing Annabeth a big favor by letting her participate in the game, with her children, with her husband, in her house. Annabeth should be grateful, get down on her knees and say thank you if possible.

For a long time, she felt ashamed. For another, she was sad. And now, she felt angry.

Anger at her father, because he was so blinded by his happiness that he couldn’t really look at her for more than two minutes. Anger at her half-siblings, who were too obtuse to see the situation beyond what involved them, definitely anger at Helena, but mostly, Annabeth felt angry at herself.

Because despite everything, even after all this time, even after she moved to another city and realized that her family only remembered her existence twice a year, if that, Annabeth felt angry at herself because she still cares.

She would like to pretend she didn’t, but she cared. She didn’t want people to think she was selfish, she didn’t want her father to think she was distant and insensitive, she didn’t want Bobby and Matthew to comment on her absence on their wedding.

She didn’t want Helena to be right about what she was.

Something brought her out of her cloud of revolt and indignation: a huge, hairy, black figure entered the open glass door of Annabeth’s room and barked at her. Loud and excited, totally out of tune with what was happening inside her. (Later, Annabeth would associate the bark with a sincere ‘Hello!’ and laugh about it.)

But she barely had time to think when Mrs. O’Leary smelled her scent in a specific and convenient place: the covered dress on the armchair.

Mrs. O’Leary snatched it up and left the room as if playing catch, ears and fur bouncing as she ran.

“No!” Annabeth stood up suddenly, in complete despair, running around the table. “No no no no no!”

It was easy to reach the door, but it was difficult to run with the heels. Gods, there was no way this was actually happening!

Annabeth bumped into about four dogs loose around the office and dodged about five cats as she ran after the giant Newfoundland. ‘Small for the breed,’ her owner would say, but Annabeth deeply doubted that when Mrs. O’Leary, in one leap, passed over two pinschers as if it were a low-difficulty obstacle.

It would be funny if it weren’t tragic: the way the dog released the dress in the air and picked it up again, chewing and drooling happily, with a permanent dog’s smile, looking like she was having the best day of her life.

Annabeth was sure that every employee in the work islands on the floor was viewing the situation as a scene from a sitcom, but she barely had time to care about it. She needed to get the dress back and save what might be left of it.

“Annabeth Chase is chasing a dog, look!” Someone commented, laughing, when Annabeth made a particularly difficult turn, almost bumping into someone in the process.

Rating 3 for the joke, she would also roll her eyes if she had time, but was busy trying not to lose sight of the dog.

Saw it enter an office with a similar shape to hers about 70 meters away, but the other animals scattered around the floor hindered her pursuit.

By the time she arrived at the door of the office in question, panting, it was too late: Mrs. O’Leary was rubbing her snout and eating Annabeth’s dress excitedly. The dog only stopped committing the crime when she saw her at the door, which seemed to make her doubly happier.

Mrs. O’Leary spun around twice, barking loudly, before standing on her hind legs and beginning to beg for affection, making sounds of excitement, right in Annabeth’s face.

Who in turn was motionless, mouth open and breathless, looking at the dress on the floor, which had come out of its cover and was obviously torn and all ruffled.

“What the hell?! Mrs. O’Leary, get down! Now!” A deep voice sounded across the room, interrupting the scene. Mrs. O’Leary sat up immediately, sticking out her tongue and smiling as if she had done nothing wrong. “Heavens, what happened?”

Annabeth looked to her left and found Percy Jackson standing, with messy hair and thousands of papers spread out on the table. He looked pale with fright and his face was tired, as if all the chaos had interrupted something important.

Honestly, she couldn’t care less. Not when things had blown up so quickly, in circumstances that were so… humiliating. In all senses; from her brothers’ first wedding invitation to the destroyed dress in Percy Jackson’s office. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy left in Annabeth, because nothing and no one seemed to have any sympathy for her.

“I ask you, Percy! What happened?!” She used her voice when she was scolding someone at work who had made a serious and silly mistake. Annabeth huffed, rolling up the sleeves of her blazer and running her hand over her face nervously. “If you can’t control your own dog, you shouldn’t bring it here!”

She didn’t let him process the fact that she had called him by his first name, because even she hadn’t thought about it properly. Percy was in shock about the whole situation and undeniably sad, more and more with each passing second, as he processed Annabeth’s anger at him. Seriously, his shoulders slumped and everything.

“I-I was reading three different plays, I didn’t realize the door was open and...”

“And what?! If you also can’t divide your attention between work and the dog, again: you shouldn’t have brought her here.”

She entered the office at once, stepping firmly, and Percy took two steps back, astonished. It was kind of funny, if you stopped to think about it, how her size was making him retreat into his own space, but there was no other way to put it: Percy seemed knocked out by her presence in the room.

“That was my only party dress, you know? I picked it up at the dry cleaners this morning and now all I have is a rag and an invitation to a wedding I didn’t even want to go to! Because of your moment of distraction in this Pet-day misfortune I’m going to have to look for a new dress, pay for it and involve myself in financial and emotional loss.” Annabeth didn’t realize it, but her eyes were watery, the tears she was about to shed before Mrs. O’Leary’s appearance now built up and even worse.

Percy looked like a kicked puppy when he noticed the watery brown eyes, raising his hands and then lowering them again, not knowing what to do.

Resentful, perhaps for more reasons than she would like to admit, she finally mumbled:

“And I thought you were a problem solver.”

Maybe he didn’t fully understand what she meant by that, but it didn’t matter anymore. She bent down to pick up the piece of cloth that had once been a dress, unfortunately meeting Mrs O’Leary’s eyes in the process. Annabeth would never admit it, but her heart broke when she saw the dog laying down and putting her nose between her front paws, crying as if she knew she had done something wrong.

She knew that Mrs. O’Leary was a docile and innocent animal who had done nothing evil, but Annabeth was already exhausted and that had been the last straw. Percy wasn’t to blame for her other problems either and it wasn’t fair for her to put the responsibility on him, but once again, it was too much to handle.

Annabeth sniffed, lifted her chin and left the office, closing the door tightly. The other employees working on the islands tried to ignore the scene and carry on with their work, but it seemed shocking to everyone to see a bit of vulnerability in the project manager. Yet another explosion like that, especially in the timid senior lawyer’s office, of all places.

No one seemed willing to recognize that this situation highlighted a flaw in the pet-day dynamic, and, in fact, not even Annabeth was willing to make an even bigger scene over it. So, she imagined that everyone’s day would go on normally. It was hers that was ruined, and the torn dress was only 40% of the reason.

As soon as she arrived back at her office after the walk of defeat, Annabeth closed the door, lowered all the blinds on the windows that overlooked her, dropped her dress in the same place as before and sank into her own chair, allowing herself to cry profusely, for the first time. Helena’s email on the computer screen, mocking her.

Time management: took 5 minutes to cry, then got back to work. Learn from Annabeth Chase! Or not, if she wants to be mentally healthy.

Wiping her face, taking a deep breath and taking a sip of cold tea from her cup, her shrugged off Helena’s email and turned her energy to something else.

When Annabeth looked up later, she noticed that it was already dark outside and that between the blinds the floor lights were dimmed.

8:38pm was the time on the second screen.

Annabeth sighed, preventing another emotional wave from breaking inside her and finished a financial spreadsheet. She was feeling so, so mentally exhausted that she didn’t even want to think about being sad or anything else.

The cold tea was untouched on the table, and she hadn’t taken another coffee break or even eaten anything after lunch in over seven hours.

Her stomach growled, but she didn’t want to eat. She didn’t have the stomach for it, what if eating was an act of selfishness too?

At least the entire office was empty and Annabeth wouldn’t have to walk among them with the rag in her hands, the half-dead cactus and a sad face (even if she made a point of hiding it with sunglasses, despite the hour).

A knock on the door sounded and since the blinds were down, Annabeth couldn’t see who it was.

She would like to shout “Go away!”, but it could be Chiron or some director. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make that guess in the dark so as not to be unprofessional.

Taking a deep breath and adjusting herself in her fancy office chair, she raised her voice and said, “Come in.”

The door opened and an incredibly white arm pulled back the blinds to enter the office and close the door.

Too late for “go away!”?

“What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms. It wasn’t Annabeth’s intention to seem so rude, but hey, she had a rough day.

“Well, I came because...”

“It’s after eight at night, Percy. It’s not healthy to work until that time.” She interrupted him, without realizing it. “And I don’t care if you don’t owe me satisfaction, you should still listen to me.” Percy blinked, obviously taken aback by the topic. Or maybe because she called him by his first name again. (In her own defense, Annabeth thought it had been easier after the first time, and did it without realizing it).

“I don’t punch in either, Annabeth.”

Percy and Annabeth had equivalent positions in different departments. Percy was a senior lawyer and reported directly to the director of legal, Nemesis. While Annabeth was the project team manager and reported to the CEO. The legal department had no management, but since Percy was the senior one, he had an influential role like that of a manager, but without the pressure of being a leader. This was for Nemesis.

“It’s not healthy anyway.” She grumbled, shrugging her shoulders, ignoring the fact that for the first time, he had also addressed her by her first name.

“I could say the same, I...” He scratched the back of his head and then Annabeth noticed that Percy was blushing, looking anywhere in the room but at her, who remained sitting behind the table with her back resting against the chair. “I didn’t see you leaving your office and I didn’t see you taking your coffee break and so I took the liberty of bringing this up.” And then Annabeth noticed the paper bag he was holding. “I imagine you haven’t eaten since lunch and, well, it’s not good to work so hard and not eat.”

She really wanted to stay mad at him. But in reality, if she opened her mouth she would probably start crying and say something like, “You’re so sweet, it’s okay. Thank you for caring, and you can give my dress to Mrs. O’Leary to play with!” So she wisely remained silent.

The silence was awkward.

“It’s a cheeseburger.” Annabeth continued to stare at him, expressionless. “And I brought two...”

The poor guy was being tortured, that was a fact. The paper bag that was small in his hands was almost tearing with his grip.

“Sit.”

He sat down.

The two began to unpack the food together, and while Percy separated what was his and what was hers, Annabeth took off her blazer, leaving the black tank top she was wearing exposed.

She didn’t expect to show how hungry she was, but the smell was great and the snack was warm, so she bit into it with more haste than should have.

After swallowing the first piece and feeling some of her energy being replenished, she realized that 40% of her bad feelings were related to hunger. The rest was just stress.

“Thanks.” Annabeth replied, her cheeks still full, not caring if she looked like a rabbit.

Percy nodded and smiled slightly, his dimple giving a shy hello.

Then he became serious again, his face becoming a mixture of seriousness, shyness and annoyance.

“I’m sorry about today, Annabeth.” Percy actually looked sorry. In fact, Annabeth would say that he was ready to kneel and whip his own back until she forgave him. “I really lied when I said Mrs. O’Leary was very bubbly. She’s not. In fact, she’s very quiet and well-behaved, and to be honest, I have no idea why she acts that way around you.” He didn’t look her in the eye at that point. “I was reading a lot of files, I was stressed and then Tyson came into my office to deliver a report and left the door open. I didn’t even notice when she left and I would never have imagined that she could go directly to your office.” Percy sighed, his knee bouncing anxiously. “I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. I know this incident could have been avoided if I had been paying attention.”

Annabeth left her snack on the table, wiped her hands and leaned back in her chair again. Percy leaned forward a little, seeking eye contact now.

“I’m really sorry. I’m going to pay for a new dress and take yours to a seamstress and see what I can save. My father knows an atelier owner, maybe it will work.”

Annabeth held his gaze and blinked to speak, crossing her fingers on the table.

“Thank you for that, Percy. I know I was unfair with some of the words I said to you, it’s just that things are... Complicated. A personal issue, I mean. I know I shouldn’t take it out on anyone, and even if you committed a mistake, I certainly shouldn’t take it out on you.”

But Percy shook his head vehemently, his curls bouncing.

“No, I understand. I imagine things are busy with the... marriage, right?” Annabeth nodded. Percy waited. When she didn’t add any extra information, he asked her exactly what he wanted to know, like the good lawyer he was: “If I may ask, why are you going to a wedding you don’t want to?”

Annabeth took a deep breath, reaching for the pot of her cactus in palliative care, turning between her hand. She didn’t know how much she wanted Percy to know about the matter, but she decided to go with the flow now. It was late, her mind was a little disconnected from the reality outside.

The feeling she had was that she could say anything in there, in the quiet of her office, without consequences.

“It’s my twin brothers’ wedding. Half brothers.” He quickly got the message. “I’m not very close to my family and I didn’t want to spend a penny on anything related to all this nonsense. And then what happened happened.” She resisted for a second, before adding: “Right after I read a lengthy email from my stepmother saying that I take them for granted and pointing out that I am a ‘doomed spinster’ and ‘incorrigibly selfish,’ in her words.” Annabeth laughed sadly. “Mrs. O’Leary’s timing was impeccable.”

Percy didn’t seem amused at all. His face was serious and his brow was wrinkled. It was enough for Annabeth to realize that when Percy wasn’t being shy and kind, he could seem quite intimidating.

“Annabeth. I’m really sorry.” His brow furrowed even more, and then his expression changed. He looked at her like someone who honestly seemed desperate to fix everything. “What else can I do to fix this? I could do anything.”

She blushed, looking away. His intensity and vehemence surprised her a little, he almost had his hands on her desk now. It was something new for Annabeth, because there was a shadow of something in Percy’s blue eyes that took her breath away. It felt like... Devotion.

Suddenly, she realized that she liked it.

Annabeth looked up at him.

Anything?

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t go back in time to fix everything, but I will feel indebted to you no matter how many dresses I pay for, since the damage was also emotional...” His tone dropped and he adjusted his glasses. Percy looked so disappointed in himself that it was difficult to even keep looking. “And I would do anything in my power to fix this, anything else. So tell me what else you need and I’ll help.”

“It’s not your brothers’ fault you’re a doomed spinster.”

“I know it can’t be easy to see your younger brothers getting married first, while you’re almost 30 and your only prospect of a serious relationship is with your job.”

Annabeth stared at him.

Percy was handsome. Pretty cute, honestly. Even with that kicked puppy face and droopy blue eyes, or maybe exactly because of that, he was devastatingly handsome. His blond curls were already disheveled compared to how she saw him in the morning and yet he was handsome.

He was tall, his shyness was an added charm and he was as reserved as she was. Reserved enough so that his family could buy into the lie.

He had no online social media, was successful, diplomatic, competent, very familiar, polite and very kind. Helena would have a heart attack if Annabeth showed up with a man like Percy at home.

Being in love, satisfied and married would exactly prove that everything Helena accused her of being was a lie.

Percy shifted in his seat as Annabeth’s analysis lingered.

She straightened up, licking her lips and standing up straight. She left the half-eaten cheeseburger resting on the table.

“I need a husband.”