The next day he had a terrible headache. 

He was pretty sure that as bad as his head felt when he slowly opened his eyes, that it couldn’t have been nearly as bad as whatever Rachel was probably feeling at that same moment. He wondered what happened after he stormed out of the restaurant last night. Had she left? Did she make a scene on the way out? He hoped not, but with someone as out of control as she was it was hard to know. More than anything he hoped that Rachel had left the hefty tip that he’d dropped on the table on the way out for the poor waitress, who looked all of twenty five years old.

After popping a few Tylenol, Riley did two things: texted his good friend Noah, and deleted the app off of his phone, vowing to never mess with online dating again. Noah was supportive. “Not as bad as my experience,” Noah texted. “I mean, my girl literally tried to get me to join some fuckin’ doomsday cult. But a sloppy drunk making a scene in a restaurant is right up there. You did the right thing deleting the app, probably a whole army of those types of women on there. I’m getting convinced that they’re all a scam.”

“Thanks,” Riley answered back. “Look, I’m sure there are some sane, normal women on there who are just looking for a good guy, but I don’t have the time to mine through that shit, looking for the needle in the crazy haystack.”

“I get it man, trust me. I’m sorry that happened, I was hoping she’d be the one.”

“Me too, but I guess it’s not that easy. Maybe it shouldn’t be. Anyway, man, I’ll talk to you later; I have to get to work.”

“You got it. Later.”

Riley put his phone away and took a steamy shower. He didn’t have to go into work exactly, but he was expecting a work-related call. A call had come in, from Staten Island PD of all places, regarding a series of murders that he was mostly unfamiliar with. He’d heard something about them but didn’t know any of the details. He was the most senior detective at his precinct, and also could boast one of the highest closing rates of anyone there, so it came to be that major cases—the type others were reticent to accept—came across his desk more often than not. Even though it was technically his day off, his commanding officer told him that the matter was urgent, and to expect a call from the lead detective on the case, one Emily Curtis. She was supposed to call him around noon, which still gave him a few hours to get some coffee and food, and that’s exactly what he planned on doing after the shower. 

There was a coffee shop a few blocks away from his apartment, so he decided to walk off his headache, stretch his legs a little, and get some fresh air. A few minutes later he was walking through the door. Well, he was almost through the door. There was a line unlike anything he’d ever seen there before. He furrowed his brow and stared ahead, trying to see what was going on up at the front, but the line was too dense with people to see anything. “Jesus, are they giving away the new iPhone and a blowjob with every latte?” The person in front of him turned around and smiled. 

“Well, if they are then I’m really on the wrong line,” the strange and beautiful woman said. “I mean, I could use an upgrade on my phone, it’s getting a little slow, but the other part. . .”

“Oh, Jeuss, I’m sorry, that was really crude of me.” Riley said, marveling at how hot the woman standing next to him was.

“Crude? You sound like my grandma. It was hilarious, don’t apologize.”

“Well, in that case. . .”

“But better to stop while you’re ahead,” she said, cutting him off and smiling at him. He smiled back. He noticed a little skip to his heart when she looked him dead in the eyes, like she gave him a little electric shock to jolt him out of some strange sleep he’d been in.

“Understood,” he said. “You know they do that on purpose, right?”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Apple,” he said. “There was an article recently where they admitted to slowing down the functioning of old phones if you don’t do software updates or get the latest device. Total scam.”

“Huh,” she said. “Bastards. That’s crazy.”

Riley came here almost every day before, after, and even during work when it got slow. There was never a line. Ever. In fact, as much as he enjoyed the coffee at that place, if it was the kind of place that always had a line like that he would hiked his butt over to the Dunkin Donuts instead. He hated lines. There was nothing worse to him than having to stand around like an idiot when he could do better things with his time, especially when it was for something that you could literally buy anywhere else. “Seriously,” he said to the woman. “What’s going on in there?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” she said. “When I got here there was already a line even longer than this one, but from what I can gather, I think Pietro’s doing some kind of giveaway with free sandwiches for every cup of coffee. I’m not sure, some promotional thing.”

“Fuck,” Riley said. Pietro was the owner. A cool, Italian guy who’d taken the place over from his father when he’d retired a few years back. It was a neighborhood staple, a true family run business, which was rare, and that was a huge reason why Riley went there and not to the chain places that were closer and faster. But he just couldn’t fuck with lines like this. He grabbed his temples and started rubbing. The Tylenol wasn’t doing its job at all and this line wasn’t helping the issue. 

“You, too, huh?” the woman asked.

“What?”

“Headaches. I get them about three times a week, myself. Three times if I’m lucky.”

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Probably not to most people, but I know that temple rub and grimaced face pretty well. I had a migraine last night that’s still a little bit there. That’s actually why I came here. I was hoping the caffeine would help. But. . .”

“But at this rate you’ll never know,” he said. He caught himself staring a little as he talked to her. He didn’t feel instant attraction very often, so when it happened it was a thing of some surprise. He thought a lot of women were beautiful, of course, but appreciating beauty wasn’t the same as instant attraction. “Thank God I don’t get those.” he said.

“Consider yourself lucky. They suck.” As she started talking to her in more depth he took the time to really look at her. She was gorgeous. She had these light green eyes, and curly blonde hair that fell just at her shoulders, and when she smiled it was like a glow surrounded her entire body, a body that he wanted to reach out and grab more than he wanted any coffee. It was like he could feel his body being pulled towards her, like a hunger deep inside, but he played it cool.

“My brother got migraines. I saw how bad they can get. He used to have to lock himself in a dark room and we couldn’t talk to him for hours sometimes.”

“Yeah, I was lying in my bed with the lights off and my phone on silent up until about two hours ago. It was nice, actually. Now I’m on this damn line.”

“Shit. That bad?”

“Last night was a bad one.”

“But you seem better now.” Riley said, grinning a little but trying not to seem be too obvious about how much he was into her.

“I am,” she answered. “Well, except for this long ass line we’re stuck in.”

“It’s moving a little now,” Riley said, and just as he did they took a baby step forward as yet another person walked out with a complimentary sandwich. “See.”

“You’re right,” she joked. “I don’t know why I was even getting aggravated. The line is practically flying now. I don’t know why I was complaining.”

He smiled at her sarcasm. He was pretty sarcastic himself. Too much sometimes, but he’d always found it the best kind of humor. To him it was a separator, either you got it or you didn’t, and if you didn’t. . .well, he was ready to move on to someone with a better sense of humor. “Yeah,” he replied. “I can feel the wind blowing through my hair. Seriously, what the hell was Pietro thinking?”

“Times are tough,” she answered. “Businesses are doing what they can to keep an advantage, including alienating their existing client base to give away free shit!” She was raising her voice, but it was in a funny way. People turned around, just like they had last night during his horrendous date, only this time the attention didn’t bother him. He actually kind of enjoyed it and found it funny. Through the line Riley could see the front counter, where Pietro looked frantic as hell, pouring coffee as fast as he could while his poor wife worked the griddle to get those free sandwiches out to the endless line of hungry customers. He looked up, smiled, and waved even though Riley could feel the stress coming off of him, and the woman waved back. 

“I’m Riley,” he said, extending his hand to the stranger he was getting to know. 

“Hey, Riley. I’m Samantha. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” The touch of her hand ignited his insides again. It was a spark, only it was happening deep in his gut, in the place where he felt things the greatest. The handshake lasted as long as handshakes are supposed to last—a few seconds—yet even after she pulled her hand away he felt her against his skin, and he didn’t want that feeling to go away.

Eventually the line actually started to move, and even though he’d been standing there longer than he’d wanted to wait, it was a happy wait, a productive wait, a wait that wasn’t wasting his time at all. In fact, this was the best line he’d ever been on. Samantha was technically before him in line, but even if she hadn’t been, he would have let her go first. They talked for a few more minutes and he smiled as he listened to her order a quad—a large coffee with four shots of espresso. 

“Holy shit,” he said. “I love a woman who loves caffeine.”

“Can’t live without the stuff. And I think it’s a little too early for us to say that we love each other, but whatever, I’ll take it. It’s been a while since I’ve heard that. What are you getting?”

“The same, now. Pietro, make another one please. And yes, I’m taking one of those sandwiches as payment for standing in this crazy line of yours.”

Pietro smiled. “You got it. And you better start getting here early cause it’s going to be like this every day.”

“Oh,” Riley said sarcastically. “Then I’ll be taking my tired ass across the street to Starbucks. Or, God forbid, to Dunkin Donuts.”

“Quit bluffing, tough guy, you know you’re not going to follow through with that one.”

Riley raised his eyebrow toward the owner “Yeah?” he asked sarcastically. “That right? You willing to test it out and see?”

“I know you better than that. Been coming here since my father ran the place. You have a real palate for coffee. There’s no way you’re going to start your day drinking that swill across the street. You’d never solve any cases.”

Cases.

Pietro didn’t realize it but he’d blown Riley’s cover. He never told women that he was a cop right away, and Samantha was listening to the whole conversation. She looked over at him and just stared. “Cases?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Pietro interjected before Riley could even respond. “Our boy here is one of NYPD’s finest homicide detectives. Highly decorated. He even got his ugly mug in the papers a while back.”

“Really?” Samantha was staring at him now, looking at him in a different way than before and Riley noticed right away. But it wasn’t the usual reaction he got, he could read that a mile away. It wasn’t a sexual thing, not a fetish, it was almost a look of admiration. 

“Yes, I work homicide.”

“My dad worked homicide. Thirty years in Brooklyn.”

“No shit?” This time it was Riley’s turn to raise an eyebrow. He was genuinely surprised, and that was hard to do. He hadn’t expected that one. 

“I shit you not.”

“How long has he been retired?”

“He was retired ten years before he died.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she responded. “It was a long time ago. He had me later in life so he was older.”

“Look, I know this is kind of out of nowhere, but would you like to grab dinner with me?”

“That was abrupt,” she said. “And of course, I’d love to. When?”

“Oh, Jesus, I hadn’t expected you to say yes that fast.”

“I can still reject you, if you want.”

“No, no,” he joked. “I’ll take the yes, trust me. Do you like Italian food?”

“Of course,” she said. “I’m a New Yorker, don’t we all love Italian food?”

“Fair enough. How about tomorrow night? I’ll text you the place later on.”

“Perfect. Here’s my number.”

She put her number into his phone and he agreed to let her know the place in a little while. He walked her out of Pietro’s, through the even longer line of people, and once on the street, he got a chance to look at her again in the full light. She was heartbreakingly beautiful, and the smile on her face when she looked at him made his heart flutter. 

“Until later, then,” she said.

“Until later. Enjoy the heart attack in a cup.”

“You too. Let’s hope we don’t die.”

He laughed. Not only was she gorgeous, but he might have met his match in the sarcasm department.