Trish Wylie – New York's Finest Rebel (страница 5)

‘Effective?’

‘I was going to say adolescent. I can’t tell you how reassuring it is to know the city is in the hands of such a mature example of the New York Police Department.’

When her fingers began to move across the keyboard again, Daniel realized he didn’t have the faintest idea what she did for a living. He wondered why. Hadn’t needed to know was the simple answer. Though it did kind of beg the question of why it was he needed to know now.

Know your enemy and know yourself and you could fight a hundred battles, as the saying went. With that in mind he took a short breath. ‘So what is it you do anyway?’

She didn’t look up from the screen. ‘It’s the first time you’ve been tempted to ask that question?’

‘I don’t have a newspaper to pass the time.’

‘They’re on a stand by the door.’

‘It’s an internet thing, isn’t it?’

Long lashes lifted behind her glasses. ‘Meaning?’

‘You’re one of those people who reports their every move every five minutes so the universe can know how much time they spend doing laundry.’

‘Yes, that’s the only thing people use the internet for these days.’ She reached for her coffee. ‘It’s because working online isn’t a physical job, right? Anyone who isn’t lifting heavy objects or doing something with their hands instantly earns a low ranking on your Neanderthal scale of the survival of the fittest.’

‘You might want to slow down on the caffeine intake. I think you’re close to the legal limit already.’

Setting the cup down, she breathed deep and went back to work. ‘I write a blog.’

‘You can earn a living doing that?’

‘Among other things,’ she replied.

‘What’s it about?’

‘Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?’

‘Nope.’

‘Fine, then. I can play the “get to know me better” game until you get bored and leave. It shouldn’t take long with your attention span.’ Lifting her coffee again, she leaned back in her chair and looked him straight in the eye. ‘I work for a fashion magazine and as part of my job I write a daily blog on the latest trends and the kind of things twenty-something women might find interesting.’

‘You’re as deep as a shallow puddle, aren’t you?’

‘Not everything is about the meaning of life. Sometimes it’s more about living it. For some people that means finding joy in the little things.’

‘Like spending money on the kind of clothes that will put them in debt?’

‘Like wearing things that make them feel good.’ She shrugged a narrow shoulder. ‘I assume it’s how someone like you feels when they wear their uniform of choice.’

‘I don’t wear a uniform as a fashion statement.’

‘You’re saying you don’t feel good when you wear it?’

‘It’s a matter of pride in what I do.’

‘And doesn’t that make you feel good about yourself?’

She was smart, but that he’d known. Trouble was she wasn’t entirely right. ‘It’s not as simple as that.’

When her head tilted at an obviously curious angle, he lounged back in his chair. Since she’d given him the opening with the topic of conversation, he openly checked her out. ‘I take it the librarian look is in vogue now.’

‘It’s better than the mugger ensemble you’re wearing.’

Lowering his chin, he ran a large palm over the faded U.S.M.C. lettering on his chest. ‘I’ve had this since basic training. It has sentimental value.’

‘Wouldn’t that suggest you have a heart?’

‘Bit difficult to walk around without one.’

‘As difficult as it is to survive without sleep?’

Daniel stared at her without blinking.

‘Thin walls …’ she said in a soft tone that smacked too much of sympathy for his liking before she shrugged. ‘Try falling asleep without the television on, you might get more benefit from the traditional eight hours—especially if you’re watching something with that much yelling in it. What was it—horror flick of the week?’

‘You’re worried about me again? That’s sweet.’ Feeling sick to his stomach at how close he’d been to humiliation, he got to his feet. ‘Now I know you spend your nights with a glass pressed to the wall I’ll try and find something on the nature channel with whale song in it.’ When his trip to the door was halted by the brush of cool fingers against his hand, he looked down at her. ‘What?’

Dropping her arm, she avoided his gaze and shook her head. ‘Forget it.’

‘You got something to say, spit it out.’ He checked his watch. ‘I have an appointment with my boss in an hour.’

The statement lifted her chin again. ‘Because of what happened yesterday?’

‘Hardly the first time I’ve had my ass hauled across the coals for breaking the rules.’

‘You saved a man’s life.’ She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. ‘I’m sure that counts for something.’

She was reassuring him?

‘Not that you don’t deserve it for doing something so asinine,’ she added. ‘You could have placed other members of your team in danger.’

That was more like it. It was also pretty much exactly what he expected to have yelled at him in an hour. ‘We all do what we gotta do when the situation calls for it.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You should know that better than most.’

She looked up at him from the corner of her eye. ‘And there you go thinking you know me again.’

‘Did it ever occur to you that you don’t make it easy for people to do that?’

‘People who want to make an effort.’

‘And how many tests do they have to pass before you talk to them like they have an IQ higher than a rock?’

‘Stupid is as stupid does,’ she replied with a smile.

‘I take it back. If you’re quoting Forrest Gump at me you obviously need more caffeine.’ He placed an apologetic look on his face. ‘I’d get you some before I leave but I’m not allowed to buy coffee here.’

‘You’re the most irritating person I’ve ever met.’

‘See you later, babe.’ ‘Not if I see you first.’

‘Still rusty.’

He shook his head. ‘Keep practising.’

‘How’s the challenge coming along?’

‘Hmm?’ Jo blinked at her erstwhile roomie, a second night of interrupted sleep catching up with her.

He must have moved his bed after the conversation in the coffee shop. The yelling had been further away but, like the first time, when it came it was torture. She doubted anyone could hear a human being in that much pain and not feel the effect of it emotionally.

‘The challenge the magazine gave you?’ Jess prompted. ‘The one where you wear outfits from the centre pages to discover if different images change how people see you? I’m assuming that’s why you look like a French onion seller today. Not that the beret doesn’t work for you.’

Yes, she liked the beret. It was the kind of thing she’d have chosen herself, especially when it had a little touch of France to it. But since she wasn’t supposed to wear anything the magazine hadn’t chosen for her …

Lowering her chin, she idly rearranged the crumbs on her plate with the prongs of her fork. Wasn’t as if he would tell her what had caused the nightmare if she asked him, was it? That part of not pushing the subject she got. Where it began to get weird started with the fact she hadn’t felt the need to talk it through with his sister. His family cared about him. If he was struggling with something that happened when he was overseas they would want to help in any way possible. Not that he would make it easy. Trouble was she couldn’t forget how the colour drained from his face when he’d thought she knew.

It felt as if the man she had known and disliked so much hadn’t come home and someone new had taken his place. Someone she could empathize with and wanted to get to know better.

It was just plain weird.

‘Earth to Jo …’

‘It’s going fine,’ she replied as she speared another piece of cake with her fork and popped it into her mouth. ‘Mmm, this one …’