Page 7 of Clumsy in Love

Somehow, while attempting to stand, her heel got caught on the rung of the stool. In an effort to catch herself, she reached out blindly for the nearest thing to stop her fall. Which turned out to be a man walking past. She toppled into his arms, and he caught her on reflex.

“Hey,” he said, setting her back on her feet. “Watch where you’re going.” He seemed more surprised than annoyed, but his girlfriend was another story.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the woman screeched. “That’s my man!” Bloodshot eyes bore into Holly’s, revealing a half-vacant stare that signaled she’d had one too many.

“I’m sorry,” Holly said. “I didn’t want to fall.”

The woman turned to her friend. “Did you see how she grabbed at him?”

Holly inched toward the entrance, wanting to escape.

The woman’s friend and her “man” tried to calm her hysteria, but to no avail. The next thing Holly saw was a set of long, red fingernails coming at her. To avoid the attack, she side-stepped and ran straight into a waitress carrying a tray full of drinks.

Both Holly and the server went down, launching the drinks. The woman who’d wanted Holly’s eyeballs was directly in the splash zone, and a beer bath didn’t improve her temperament. Patrons pushed, shoved, and yelled at each other, scrambling to avoid the slippery mess.

A bartender emerged from behind the bar to calm the chaos, but tempers were escalating, and an irritated crowd quickly turned on each other.

Holly apologized to the server and struggled to help her up, worried they might be trampled if they stayed on the floor too long. Once upright, she looked down at her beer-soaked shirt. At least no one would notice the cranberry Cosmo stain now.

“She attacked me!” Crazy Lady yelled, pointing at Holly. “Call the police.”

Holly’s mouth fell open in shock. She finally regained her voice, but her denials were lost in the pandemonium. What. Was. Happening?

CHAPTER THREE

Cole Robinson arrived at the precinct station and made a beeline for the coffeepot.

“Burning the candle at both ends not workin’ out?” Cole’s partner, Mark, said.

Cole harrumphed. “Just glad we’re almost done with night shifts. I’m gettin’ too old for this all-night stuff.”

“Better suit up. Roll call in ten. I’ll meet you in there.”

After downing as much coffee as he could in five minutes and changing into his uniform, Cole met Mark and the rest of his squad for their pre-tour instructions. It was Saturday night, and everyone expected to be busy. As Cole poured himself a cup for the road, his commander cornered him.

“Robinson, got a sec?” the sergeant asked, pointing to his office.

“Sure, boss.” Cole followed the sarge into the cramped, messy space, wondering if he should clear off a chair and sit or if this really would only take a second.

“You got too much PTO on the books,” Sarge said, getting straight to the point. “About four weeks you need to burn.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned thatbeforewe started night shifts?” Cole would have gladly taken those weeks off.

Sarge shrugged. “You still riding with the detectives on your days off?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, now you can do it on paid vacation time. Seems like a win-win. Why don’t you take the next month off?”

“Is that a question?”

Sarge shook his head. “You could use a break. You’ve been kind of an asshole lately. No offense.”

Cole thought about it. It didn’t really matter. It would also give him more time to study for the detective’s exam. And maybe get a decent night’s sleep. “Yeah. All right,” Cole finally said. “Why not?”

Mark waited near the coffeepot, which gave Cole a chance to top off before they headed to their patrol car.

“In trouble, bro?”

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