She blushed and tossed me a small smile as the compliment hit its mark. Good, I would have felt genuinely bad if I’d upset her after she went through the trouble of getting us something to eat.
“Well, let’s dig in while it’s hot,” she suggested as she started pulling things out of the bag and placing them on a small table just off the kitchen. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got some of everything. The woman said that croissants and egg-toast were pretty typical Italian breakfasts, but I also got a panini since I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be.”
Her consideration for me was undeniably charming, and as she spoke, more details of the night came back to me. She lived above an Italian cafe. That’s how I’d ended up coming here. I’d mentioned being Italian and giving her some corny line about having breakfast with her sometime.
“It all looks really good.” I smiled as I sat down and took one of the croissants. Something light like bread and coffee was probably the best idea while I nursed my hangover.
“I’m glad you like it.” She beamed. “You said you didn’t have to be anywhere, right? That’s why I didn’t wake you up.”
I couldn’t remember saying that, but she was right. I owned my own little business and set my own hours, so I didn’t technically have to be anywhere. Even if I did, a real Italian gentleman would never do anything to disappoint a beautiful girl, so I would have stayed either way.
She set a mug of coffee down in front of me, and I took a long sip as she turned the TV on. The scalding liquid felt good against the faint sting behind my eyes and the throbbing in my head.
“So, what was it that you do?” Roxanne asked as she took a seat across from me with her own cup of coffee. “You told me something about it last night, but I can’t remember.”
“I’m a private detective,” I replied, a little relieved that I wasn’t the only one having trouble remembering the finer details of the previous night.
“Oh, that’s right.” Roxanne nodded. “And you help the CIA sometimes, right? Your friend said something about that.”
“What?” I coughed as I almost choked on my coffee. She must have been talking about Jase. “The CIA? No, he works for a different federal agency. Not the CIA.”
“Oh, how embarrassing.” She smiled sheepishly. “I could have sworn it was something like that.”
“SDCT,” I corrected as I cleared my throat of the coffee I’d inadvertently inhaled after laughing. “That’s probably what he said.”
“That’s right.” She snapped her fingers. “That was it. Man, I’m glad I didn’t say that in front of him.”
“He wouldn’t have cared.” I shrugged. “He probably would have thought it was funny, too.”
I took another bite of my croissant and turned to look at the TV when something the newscaster was saying caught my attention.
“... early reports seem to indicate that there may have been foul play,” the reporter stated. “Senator Rothschild has been making waves since she was elected into office, with many of her opponents calling her a ‘radical-minded dissenter.’ She also became the subject of scandal earlier this year when she filed for divorce against her husband in the middle of the election, a move that many thought would cost her the chance to win. The police were able to confirm that Senator Rothschild’s two small children were in the home during the incident. Both, thankfully, were found to be unharmed. We have Joe Abrahams on the scene…”
My focus drifted from the television as I thought about what I’d just heard.
“I wonder if the husband did it,” Roxanne remarked.
“What?” I asked as I turned to look at her. “You mean if he killed her?”
“Well, yeah.” She shrugged. “They were going through a messy divorce. A public one, since it was all over the news. Plus, the kids were home, but nothing happened to them. Isn’t that pretty suspicious?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. It was an absolute tragedy. Regardless of who had done it or why, two small children had been left all alone without their mother. That wasn’t something that should ever happen.
“So, I have a shift soon that I need to get ready for,” Roxanne muttered. “But do you want to get together again sometimes?”
She looked nervous. Her hands were fidgeting, and she couldn't seem to look me in the eye. It was actually pretty cute.
“Sure.” I smiled as I slid my phone across the table toward her. “Put your number in. I’ll give you mine, too.”
I tended to stick to flings, but I wasn’t against seeing her again.
She grinned as she passed me her phone before quickly putting her number into my contacts list. I helped her clean the table and then said my goodbyes and left so that she could get ready for work. The sun was shining bright and hot the way it always did in Miami, and the light burned my eyes and worsened the ache in my skull.
I reached into my back pocket as I walked away from the building and toward the sidewalk, but my sunglasses weren’t where I usually kept them. After checking my other pockets, I was dismayed to realize that I didn’t have them at all. I’d either lost them last night or left them in Roxanne’s apartment.
I trudged forward with a sigh. I’d just have to put up with the blinding glare until I could get home. I didn’t immediately recognize which part of the city I was in until I took a few steps and realized I was rapidly approaching the cargo docks. That meant that I was only a few blocks away from the street my family’s bar was on.
I hadn’t been down this way in a
