Page 75 of Clumsy in Love

She ate as much as was socially acceptable, packed her suitcase, and tidied the room she’d slept in. Cole’s parents seemed genuinely sad to see her go.

“Don’t be a stranger,” his dad said.

“Yes,” his mom agreed, clinging to her in a bear hug. “Come back anytime.”

Cole carried her bag out to the curb. She assumed he’d called for a cab, but he started down the street, rolling her suitcase behind.

“Where are we going?” she asked, scrambling to catch up.

“I know you didn’t get enough food,” he said. “First stop, brunch.”

“Yaaasss.” She pumped her fist.

“Thought you might like that.” He laughed. “Then we’re seeing New York my way. No touristy crap.”

“What if we get mugged? Would scaring a robber off like a bear work?”

Cole stopped and stared blankly. “If we get mugged, let me do the talking.”

She shrugged. “Copy that.”

As they walked, the cozy neighborhood gave way to a more commercial area, and Cole ushered her into a diner. A harried waitress told them to seat themselves and that someone would be with them shortly.

A thick layer of grime held the floor together, and the décor looked like it hadn’t been updated since the seventies. The menus were sticky and the table worn.

“Classy,” she said. “You sure know how to impress a girl.”

“Just wait till you taste the stuffed French toast. You’ll be singing a different tune.”

They ordered and waited. “So, what are we doing today?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Hm. Not my forte,” she mumbled. “But okay. I was wondering…what happens now, logistically, after what happened with Cruz yesterday?”

“There will be an investigation, but since the whole thing was pretty cut and dried—with witnesses and hotel camera footage—it shouldn’t take too long. I’m still burning PTO for another week. They might have it done by the time I get back.”

“How do you feel about killing someone?” She mouthed the last two words.

“Cruz killed two cops, including my partner, and who knows how many other people. Maybe I’m in some kind of denial, but I slept like a baby last night.” He raised a shoulder.

The food arrived, and they dug in. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “You were right. This is delicious.”

She polished off the plate and patted her stomach. “That oughta hold me for a while.”

Cole shook his head, threw some cash on the table, and held the door for her.

“We walkin’ back to Manhattan?” Holly asked after they’d gone several more blocks.

He smirked. “We’re taking the train.”

“Is it safe? I didn’t ride it last time because of all the scary stories. And what about my suitcase?”

“Your luggage will be the least strange thing someone’s gotten on the subway with. Trust me.”

She did trust him. Enough to follow him into the dank underground tunnel. The stench of urine hit her hard, but passed as they walked on. Cole handed her a slightly worn MetroCard that she used to pass through the turnstile.

“What happens if you make eye contact?” she whispered, noticing that no one looked at anyone else.

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