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“I wish. I was working overtime,” she answered, scooting out of bed and grabbing a pair of cozy pajama pants to throw on over her panties. Spring weather still eluded New York’s Lower Hudson Valley region and her house harbored a chill leftover from the endless winter. She reached for a hoodie to cover the loose ribbed tank she’d slept in but decided against it at the last minute. Something about the cool air felt like a wake-up call, and she embraced it.

  “Overtime’s good, right?”

  Her sister’s question was rhetorical but she answered anyway. “It is,” she said, her voice trailing as she padded down the hall, the benefit of those extra shifts on display in her newly remodeled kitchen. Holding the phone between her chin and her shoulder, she reached for the Café Bustelo and milk from the fridge.

  “So why are you an idiot?” Her sister cut to the chase.

  Fuck, why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? Now she had to explain her predicament without including any of the backstory. She hated lying, especially to Elena. Izzy closed her eyes and concentrated. The best way to convey her situation without revealing the specific event that had led to her new assignment and stay honest was to be as vague as possible.

  “I just overdid it this time. I put in for an assignment and I’m in way over my head.”

  “Wait a second. Are you going to be a hotshot detective? Like Olivia Benson?”

  “No.” Izzy huffed out a breath, wondering if she should explain the processes of the Detective Bureau. “It doesn’t really work like that.” She shook her head even though her sister couldn’t see her. “Becoming a detective is a promotion, not an assignment.”

  It was also something she wasn’t remotely interested in. It was a truth no one seemed to understand. Once or twice she’d tried to explain her decision to avoid the detective route, but it never resonated. Her friends and family were swayed by the portrayal of TV detectives decked out in designer suits finding murderers and rapists, or cracking terrorists with unrivaled interrogation skills.

  Izzy wanted no part of it. She loved being in uniform. Interacting with the public on the daily had been her draw to join the police department from the outset, and she’d yet to be let down. She hated standing still, and her patrol beat kept her busy with something new every day. She was never confined to desk work, always roaming about, deterring trouble and keeping safe the people and the city she loved. There was no way to make the transit division sound sexy or satisfying, so she didn’t try. Her reward was the feeling that came with making a small difference in regular people’s lives. Giving directions to a confused tourist, helping an old lady hail a cab, stopping pickpockets and purse-snatchers at Grand Central Terminal. There was little glory, but damn, doing good felt good.

  “Tell me about the assignment,” her sister said, interrupting her faraway thoughts.

  Izzy blew out a deep breath as she scooped coffee grounds into the filter. “Where to start?” She did some mental editing on the spot. “The long and short of it is”—she paused, choosing her words carefully—“I helped with a situation at work.” She tried to sound nonchalant as she continued. “It’s one of those things that would usually result in some kind of merit award.” And a shit-ton of press. “But it’s sort of on the down low, so instead of a public commendation, I was asked if there was a special unit I wanted to go to.”

  Her sister’s silence told her she wasn’t following. Elena’s confusion was warranted—she was being purposely cryptic. Izzy couldn’t very well reveal that last week she’d delivered a teenager’s baby in the middle of the night in the bathroom of Grand Central Terminal. Or that the teenager was the daughter of a high-profile ultraconservative senator. In fact, her ability to keep it confidential was how she’d landed the coveted K-9 post.

  “Well, are you going to tell me or what?”

  “Um…”

  “The assignment, Izzy. I’m dying over here.”

  “Oh, that.” She lit a burner to heat some milk for her coffee. “I’m going to K-9.”

  “K-9?” Elena sounded skeptical. “That’s the dog cops, right?”

  “Yep,” Izzy answered, feeling her initial excitement rush to the surface.

  “That’s great, Iz. You always wanted a dog.” She heard her sister’s other line ringing in the background. “But why are you upset about it? It’s a good thing. It’s what you asked for, you said.”

  Standing on tiptoe, Izzy stretched to grab her favorite oversized mug. “I know.” She gave it a quick rinse even though it was clean. “The thing is…well, it’s less that I asked to go there…” Shaking out the excess water, she twisted the empty cup in her hand and reached for a paper towel to wipe it dry. “More like I was questioned about my dream job.” Filling her mug, she took in the rich, bold aroma as it wafted toward her. God, she loved coffee. “It was this whole to-do, this meeting I was part of. Anyway, I gave my answer—K-9—but I didn’t think it was a real question. I expected it was more of a hypothetical, you know?”

  “Well, who cares?” Her sister was all support even if she didn’t understand the situation. “And it’s a reward you earned.” She loved how even absent the facts, her sister was on her side. “So what are you worried about?”

  “Well, aside from the fact that I jumped the waiting list and have no actual qualifications—”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “No, for real. I totally cut the line.”

  “Please, people call in favors all the time. No matter what line of work you’re in.”

  “Elena, I’m pretty sure there’s an extensive background check that I completely bypassed.”

  “Izzy, you’re the most straitlaced person I know. Not an issue. Next.”

  “How about this”—she said triumphantly, expecting to stump her sister—“the requirement to even be considered for the unit is at least five years of service. Technically, I’m not even eligible.”

  She could hear her sister mentally counting backward. “You’re twenty-seven. And you started right out of college. That’s twenty-two. Are you trying to tell me you’re short a few months?”

  “Three, to be exact.” She added the warm milk to her coffee and stirred it together.

  “Izzy, quit panicking. You’re a good cop. And a great person. And I’m sure everyone at your job knows it. And you wouldn’t have been selected if you weren’t the best candidate. Trust me. I’m your older sister. I know things.”

  Izzy huffed out her skepticism. “Thanks, Elena,” she said. She couldn’t fault her sister for being supportive.

  “What is it you’re not telling me?” Elena typed at the speed of light in the background. “I can tell you’re still freaking out. Talk to me.”

  “You’re at work and I know you’re busy.”

  “I’m talking to my stressed-out baby sister. Way more important than the nonsense happening here.”

  A paralegal at the United States Attorney’s office, Izzy knew none of Elena’s work qualified as nonsense. She appreciated her sister’s time and attention, so she got to the point.

  Still mortified, Izzy covered her face as she spoke. “I made an ass of myself in front of the main instructor.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Specifics, please.”

  “Pft.” She let her mind drift back to Monday morning, unsure where to begin. “I just did some weird things. Really weird.” She cringed, thinking about it for the first time in four days. “I showed up super early and didn’t know where to go.” She rubbed her finger along the handle of a teaspoon on the counter. “So, the instructor, she came over to help me and I acted like a boob.”

  Her sister laughed. “Really? Or are you exaggerating?”

  “Let’s see.” Izzy tapped her chin in mock thought as she made fun of herself while she listed the details. “My hair was going crazy in the wind because I dropped my clip while I was driving. Like, it was completely covering my face while I was trying to be all serious and professional.” She paused to let the image sink in. “Then I fell on my butt int
o the car because the wind knocked me over.”

  “You are tiny,” her sister piped up.

  “I’m not that tiny.” She eyed her coffee but didn’t take a sip. “Wait, there’s more.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Did I mention I forgot to park my car?” She didn’t give Elena a chance to respond before elaborating with dramatic flair. “Like, I was just going to leave it, just walk away.” She fanned her hand in the air, a testament to her perceived ambivalence. “It was running, by the way, in the middle of the street. And I was going to leave it there.” She covered her eyes, embarrassed all over again. “And if all that wasn’t enough…I asked her if she was Miss Right.”

  “Wait, what?” Elena laughed outright, her question slipping in through her hysterics.

  Izzy groaned. “It’s her name, but…” She shook her head, reliving her humiliation at the series of events. “Forget it. It was mortifying. Trust me.”

  “Did she say anything? The instructor?”

  “No. She was nice about it.” Izzy hugged herself, partially for comfort, but also for protection from the chill. She debated a sweatshirt as she responded. “Doesn’t change the fact that I was a buffoon.”

  “Is she pretty?” Her sister singsonged out the question, her voice lilting as high as it could go.

  Izzy swallowed hard and bit her lower lip, remembering the image of Sara in the field. Tall and fit, with honey-brown hair that spilled from her black skully down past her shoulders. Eyes that were light brown, maybe hazel. Soft lips she’d done her best to avoid staring at. She could still picture her sauntering over in perfectly fitted jeans and a worn-out maroon hoodie barely zipped. Her expression was all confidence and charm, practically oozing sex appeal as she closed the distance between them. Even now, Izzy felt a flutter of excitement race through her body. Pretty didn’t do Sara Wright justice.

  “My God, Elena.” She knew she sounded as helpless as she’d felt four days earlier. She hung her head as she let out a pathetic sigh, not even trying to hide it. “She’s gorgeous.”

  “Aw,” her sister teased. “Look at you. All smitten.”

  “I’m not.” Izzy laughed out her denial but Elena had her pegged.

  “Nice try.” Elena’s tone told her she didn’t believe her for a second. “Sorry, Iz, I should get going. We’re not done here,” she added. “Prepare to be grilled at Mommy and Daddy’s tomorrow night. You’re coming to dinner, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” She adored the Marquez weekly gatherings, and it meant the world that her family coordinated around her fluctuating schedule.

  “See you mañana,” Elena finished, and the line went quiet on the other end.

  Izzy sipped her coffee and smiled. Her sister could make her feel better about anything even if she didn’t provide any real solutions. Suddenly it felt like everything would be okay. It would all be fine, she thought with a reassuring nod. Monday was a fresh start, a chance to make a brand-new impression, and she was going to nail it.

  She was lost in her fantasy, a successful do-over where she didn’t act like a bumbling idiot, when her doorbell rang, bringing her back to reality. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. Who would be at her house at eleven o’clock on a Friday morning? No one she’d invited, that was for sure. And whether it was a religious missionary or a salesperson didn’t matter. Uninvited solicitors were a nuisance, regardless the cause. She marched to her front door and ripped it open, ready to dole out her standard lecture on common courtesy.

  “You know, if I came to your house,” she started, before making direct eye contact with Sara Wright. She stopped midsentence, frozen still in the open doorway, her mouth agape. On cue, the breeze swirled by, sending goose bumps up her forearms and under her thin shirt.

  “It would be so weird if you came to my house.” Sara crinkled her eyebrows and offered a small grin. She tilted her head dramatically to the side. “I’m going to go ahead and guess you did not get the message I was coming to do your home inspection.”

  Izzy racked her brain, trying to remember the details of her back and forth with Sergeant Smith. There had been a slew of changes regarding the appointment, but last she’d heard, Agent Dixon had a conflict today. When there’d been no mention of an alternate visit planned for the weekend, she’d assumed it was something that would be ironed out during the first week of training.

  “I can come back,” Sara said, cutting through the silence. “We’ll reschedule. It’s not a big deal.” Her shrug was pleasant. “Clearly you have a house. The rest is pretty much self-explanatory. If I have any questions, I’ll find you during class.”

  “No, no, no.” Izzy waved her off. “You’re here. Come in. Please.”

  Sara looked past her. “I hate to interrupt if you’re busy.”

  “Not at all.” Izzy stepped to the side, giving Sara access and closing her eyes as she got a full whiff of Sara’s musky scent when she passed. “I just need to change,” she said, backing away. “Give me one second. Make yourself comfortable.”

  Less than a minute later Izzy returned, having switched out her PJ pants for leggings, a bulky fire department sweatshirt she’d swiped from her brother covering her tank. “Sorry about that,” she said, pulling her hair up in a loose bun. “Can I interest you in coffee? It’s fresh.”

  “No, thank you. I feel pretty terrible that I surprised you.” Sara sat down at a tall kitchen stool and unzipped her light jacket. “It seems the universe is messing with us.” Sara raised her eyebrows. “First I don’t know you’ve been added to the roster. Now you have no idea I’m stopping by,” she said in a kind of disbelief, a tiny pensive laugh coupling her thought.

  Izzy didn’t even feel bad when a loud harrumph escaped her. “I’m pretty sure the universe wants me to look like an ass.” She added a smile so Sara would know she wasn’t really bothered. She took a sip of her lukewarm coffee. “Despite all of our interactions to date, I’m actually a fairly responsible person.” She looked around, silently thanking God she was a neat freak. At least her place was spotless.

  “No doubt.” Sara’s voice was serious and she nodded at the iPad she’d set on the kitchen island. “Actually, by all accounts you are extremely levelheaded, dependable, and honest. Your supervisors and colleagues have nothing but good things to say about you.”

  “Yes!” Izzy whispered out the faux cheer, making fists with both hands for emphasis. “The payoffs are working.” She looked over and saw Sara’s smile reach all the way to her eyes. It made her relax on the spot. She dumped her tepid coffee in the sink and poured a fresh refill from the carafe. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” Izzy grabbed a second mug. “I mean, how else am I supposed to bribe you for a good score on this part of the process?”

  “Good point.” Sara narrowed her eyes. “Better make it light and sweet, then, if you want an A.”

  “Done.” Izzy reached for a spoon as she stirred in some sugar. “For real, though, how does this go? Do I give you a tour? Answer questions?” She placed the coffee in front of Sara and watched as she took the first sip. She was even sexy when she swallowed.

  Sara raised her mug. “Thank you for this.” She opened the tablet cover and punched in her passcode. “Like I said before, this is just a formality. Part of certification stipulates the handler having a home suitable for a dog. Whatever that means.” Her expression suggested she thought it useless. “There’s no real guidelines. So long as there’s no meth lab in your basement, I’d say you’re in the clear.”

  Izzy played along. “Don’t even have a basement.” She punctuated the statement with a definitive nod.

  “Excellent.” Sara pretended to make a note as she spoke. “No meth lab. Check.” She winked when she looked up, and Izzy almost choked. Thankfully Sara didn’t seem to notice as she took in the décor of Izzy’s modest house. “Your home is lovely. I didn’t know Hartsdale had so much undeveloped land.”

  Izzy followed Sara’s gaze to the pine trees out the livi
ng room window. “Yeah, I was super lucky. This house was a foreclosure, so I got it for a steal. It was a mess in here.” She gestured around the open plan living space. “My dad and brother helped me gut it and renovate.”

  “Is all that property yours?” Sara asked, still focused on the land outside.

  “It is. Come.” Izzy gestured with a small wave, leading the way to the back door. “Those woods mark the perimeter of Daley Park. It’s what won me over.” She stepped out on the deck, holding the door for Sara to follow. “That and being the last house on a dead-end block. I love the privacy. Having unlimited access to the park trails practically in my backyard is a home run. Sometimes I feel like I could hike the woods for hours. It’s heaven to me.” She felt suddenly exposed and a little dorky and wondered if she’d sounded like a complete dud. “I’m just a fan of peace and quiet,” she added, hoping her honesty counted for something.

  “You’re preaching to the choir.” Sara looked at the expansive yard edged by the line of trees that framed the property. “You could put a kennel out here,” she said in a low voice. “There’s so much room.”

  Izzy couldn’t mask her confusion. “But I thought the dog would live in the house with me?”

  “He will.” Sara looked right at her. “Sorry, I was more thinking out loud.” She shook her head at herself. “By all means, your dog will live with you, with your family. Inside,” she added. “It’s just nice for them to have a space of their own. A place to decompress, I guess.” She turned around and touched the exterior siding gently, before looking out over the lawn again. “It’s really nice out here. A lot of space.” She made brief eye contact. “There’s room, if you wanted to put one up. That’s all. It’s not a requirement or anything.”

  “I want to do whatever is best for the dog. It sounds like you think I should have one.”

  Sara leaned toward her slightly, their shoulders almost touching, as she nudged into Izzy’s personal space. “I think I’m just jealous,” she whispered. “I always wanted to be able to put up a kennel, but never had the yard for it.”