Monday morning

“It’s just a name search; it’s not creepy,” I say to myself as I turn my computer on and launch Google. Kay and I had spent all of Sunday searching social media for a Jonathan Harris; there were plenty of Jonathan Harris’ but not my Detective. It was weird, right?

He’s a detective, Camilla. He might not be allowed to have a social media page; she chimes in again.

“Fuck!” I slide the keyboard away from me, bring my knees up to my chest and bury my face in them.

I know she’s right, but I can’t help my curiosity. I stare at the cursor as it blinks in the search bar; I reach over and type in his first name.

STOP! My inner voice shouts at me.

“God damn it!” I push the keyboard away again and stare out the window next to my desk.

After a couple of minutes of daydreaming, I decide I have to get out of this apartment and get some fresh air. I need a distraction. I walk over to my cupboard, grab my oversized grey sweater, pull my QUT university shirt off, put my sweater on and slip on my Ugg boots. I give myself a quick look in the mirror, fluff my hair and then head for the door.

Grabbing my phone and keys from the side table in the hall, I open my door, and as I step out, I let it shut behind me. My eyes quickly dart to Sterling’s door, and after a few moments of no movement, I make my way to the building doors and push them open. The cool morning breeze hits my face, and I’m instantly relaxed. It’s precisely what I needed. 

As I make my way down the steps, I spot Kay walking across the road with my Nutella hot chocolate in hand. 

That girl has perfect timing.

“Good morning, boo,” she beams at me while stopping at the bottom of the stairs.
“Morning, love,” I smile at her and continue down the stairs towards her.
“You’re up early. Did you shit the bed?” 

I giggle at the comment before taking the hot chocolate from her hands.

“No! Ya smart bitch,” I say while taking a mouthful.
“Hmmm, strange,” she pretends to scratch her chin like she’s thinking about it.
“I came outside because I wanted to Google search, Jon.”
“So, you wanted to creep on him?” She says through a smirk.
“NO! I… I don’t know,” I sigh.
“We searched everywhere, boo.”
“I know, it’s like he’s a ghost,” I say, sitting down on the steps.
“He’s not a ghost, my sweet, just isn’t a social media slut is all.”
“Maybe,” I say in a defeated tone.
“I’m positive that Saturday will not be the last time you see the Detective,” she smiles softly at me.
“Kay, I’m not that lucky, love,” I huff at her.

“Well, my love,” she sighs, “I must be getting back to work. Carl is in today, and although he is sexy as fuck, he is one stupid boy,” she laughs, leaning down and kissing me on the forehead.

“Are you coming by tonight after work?” I ask as she stands up.
“Can’t tonight, boo, got work shit to handle at home, but I will tomorrow night if you want?”
“Ok, I guess that’s alright,” I mumble through pouty lips.
“Besides, you should use this time to sort things out with Sterling,” she tilts her head at me.

“Have a nice day, Kay,” I reply sarcastically.
“It’s like that, hey?” She says with her hands on her hips.
“It’s like that,” I reply.
“Alright, salty, talk later. I love you,” she winks at me, then turns and walks off towards her Cafe.
“Love you too, Kay, and thank you for my hot chocolate”, I call after her.

She stops in the middle of the road, turns around, and blows me some kisses before continuing across the street and disappearing into her Cafe.

I sit on the stairs silently and close my eyes; I listen to the Tilia Americana* trees that line the street move and groan in the soft breeze. The smell of their flowers quiets the chatter in my mind. 

The moment ends as quickly as it began with the ringing of my phone in my jumper pocket.

“Urgh,” I breathe out as I reach in and pull my phone out.

It better not is Sterling; I think to myself.

It’s Kay; I let out a sigh of relief. I unlock my phone and answer.

“Miss me…” she abruptly cuts me off.
“He’s here,” she says quietly.
“Who, Kay?”
“Your detective, Cami.”

Shock, anxiety, and nausea hit me all at once. He’s in her Cafe at this moment, right across the road from me. 

“Cami! CAMI!” Kay shouts down the phone
“I’m here; I’m here.”
“Get over here!” She orders

Almost as if someone lit a match under my arse, I shot to my feet.

“What! No! What!” I reply, feeling the panic rising.
“I’m in my office; he’s in line. You need to get here before he leaves.”
“I can’t, Kay! I’m dressed like a homeless person. What would I even say?”
“GET OVER HERE, NOW!” She yells down the phone and then hangs up

“Kay?… Kay? FUCK!” I shout in frustration

I stuff my phone back into my pocket before frantically pacing up and down the step; I was sitting on. 

“Fuck”, I mumble out again. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

I take a deep breath, pull my shit together and descend the stairs. Stopping at the curb, I look at the Cafe. “It’s now or never,” I say to myself before stepping off the curb and onto the road.

Before I realise it, I’m standing at the cafe doors. The blue and white colours are beaming at me like a bright fluorescent sign.

Thank you, anxiety, I think to myself.

I can see Kay behind the counter serving people. I glance down to the other end of the counter and see Jon with his back to me. Knots formed in my stomach at the mere sight of him. 

God! He looks so gorgeous; my inner voice purrs at me.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open. The little bell above the door rings, but no one notices me enter. Relief washes over me at that moment. I don’t want him to see me just yet. I head straight up to the counter, and Kay steps aside, letting Carl take over.

“He’s already placed his order and is collecting his number,” she says as she places her hand on the side of my arm and squeezes it.

“Mm-hmm,” I nod at Kay, not listening as I’m too busy trying to keep my anxiety from taking complete control.

“Camilla,” she says softly, meeting my gaze. “You’ve got this, ok?” while rubbing my arm and giving me one of her classic Kaylee reassuring smiles.

“Now go before he leaves,” she steps back behind the counter, but my feet are stuck in place. 

Kay notices and mouths “go” while waving me off in his direction before turning her attention back to the customers.

With that, I take another deep breath and give myself a quick pep talk, “You’ve got this,” before turning and walking towards him.

As if in slow motion, he turns around to face me, a smile creeping across his face as he seemingly recognises me. His gaze never leaves mine as he closes the gap between us.

The moment he is close to me, the same feeling from Saturday hits me like a ton of bricks. 

It’s raw, possessive, and all-consuming. 

“Camilla, what a nice surprise.” 

Camilla, not ma’am. He remembered my name. I think to myself as my stomach does flip.

“Detective Harris… Umm, hey,” I clear my throat. “How are you?”
“Good, Camilla, yourself?” confidence oozing from his voice.

Just as I’m about to answer, a guy pushes past me, almost knocking me over. Jon quickly grabs my arms and holds me steady, his eyes shooting daggers at the guy before returning his gaze to me.

“Are you ok?” His words dripping with concern
“Oh, uh… Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“How about we take a seat?” He says while gesturing to a table outside.
“Oh… I don’t want to bother you,” I shyly reply.

“Nonsense,” he says with a wink before walking past me and heading for the door.

I briefly glance at Kay behind the counter, and she gives me a thumbs-up before I turn and follow Jon. As I approach the door, he steps aside to hold it open for me. 

“After you,” he gestures out the door. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” I say while doing a little curtsy. We both look at each other for a moment before busting out laughing. This boy gets my humour. 

He’s a keeper, my inner voice says in a very boastful tone.

Once we find a free table, he pulls the chair out for me. Walking past to take his seat, his aftershave invades my nose. It’s spicy and smoky with a hint of vanilla; it’s delicious.

I want it all over my sheets and all over me, I think to myself.

As he turns to sit down, I take a moment to take in his outfit. He’s wearing something more casual today. Just a plain black t-shirt, grey trousers, necklaces draped around his delicious neck, and black lace-up boots. His hair is tied up in a cute little ponytail instead of the bun I had already come to lust after. 

I watch him intently while he places his order number down on the table in front of him. He then leans back in the chair and brings his gaze up to meet mine.

“Sauvage by Dior*?” I cock my head to the side, waiting for his reaction.
“Pardon,” he says, looking confused.
“Your cologne,” I point to his neck.
“Oh, yeah. How did you know?” he looks at me suspiciously.
“I love that scent. It’s one of my favourites by Dior*.”
“You have wonderful taste, Camilla,” he says, smiling at me.

“Why thank you,” I replied, leaning forward and fiddling with the plastic flowers in the small white wicker basket sitting in front of me. “So, what brings you back to this neck of the woods, Detective?”

“Call me, Jon. Please,” he says softly. “And to answer your question, I was told the coffee here is the best in Brooklyn,” he smirks while watching me fiddle with the flower.

“Well, I can vouch for that. My best friend, Kaylee, owns this Cafe. I highly recommend trying one of her Nutella Hot Chocolates*. It’s a personal favourite and unbelievably delicious,” I lean back in my chair.

“I’ll have to try that next time then,” he smiles at me.
“So, day off?”
“Yes, one of the few I get these days,” he says with a sigh.

Just then, Kay appears. “Your order,” she says with a smile. 

“Yes, thank you,” Jon smiles back at her.

Kay places his coffee down on the table in front of him. “Will there be anything else, Detective?”

Jon’s gaze moves from Kay to me. “Would you like anything, Camilla?”

Kay turns around and looks at me with a delighted grin on her face.

“Oh, no, I’m good, but thank you anyway.”
“Right, well, if there is nothing else, I shall leave you two to it.” She winks at me then struts her fine arse off back into the Cafe.
“You were saying, Camilla?” he gestures towards me to continue.
“Oh, Ummm… how long have you been in the NYPD?”
“11 Years now. Give or take,” he says while leaning forward and reaching for the sugar.
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Some days I do and others not so much.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” I say cheekily.

He lets out a soft giggle as he stirs his coffee.

“Is today a day off for you, Camilla?” he asks, placing the teaspoon on the table next to his cup.

“I don’t know if what I do requires days off. I mean, I can take time whenever I want as long as the deadlines are met.”

“Oh, so you’re a writer of some sort?” he says while lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip.
“Close, proofreader.”

He leans forward, placing his cup to the side; he folds his elbows on the table and watches me intently. His intense gaze is soul-piercing and becomes too much; I break eye contact for a moment to regain my composure. It’s all I can do to stop myself from jumping over the table and devouring him like he is my prey.

“I don’t want to sound ignorant, Camilla, but what does a proofreader do exactly?” He asks cautiously.

“That’s not ignorant at all, Jon; not a lot of people know much about my job,” I say while smiling at him. ” My job is to read unpublished books, look for mistakes, correct them and then send the book back for publishing. If, however, there are quite a few errors, then the process can take longer. Sometimes it can be a lot of back and forth for weeks, even months,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“Wow! That’s impressive, Camilla.” He picks his coffee up and takes another sip. 

“Impressive? I’ve never heard what I do be called impressive before.” I let a little sarcastic chuckle past my lips.

“It’s certainly nothing to snicker at. It takes a keen eye, patience, and time to do what you do. You should be proud of that, Camilla,” he says softly.

“Thank you, Jon. I appreciate the compliment.” I say, feeling myself blushing hard.

“Anytime,” he says sweetly. “So, how long have you been proofreading?” he asks while dropping the cup down from his mouth to his chest.

“Since I left university, sooooo…” I scrunch my nose up while counting the years since finishing my degree, “six years now, but I’ve been freelancing for two years.”

“So, you’re your boss then?”
“I am, I’m a free agent,” I say while doing a fist pump and shooting him a cheeky wink.

Jon looks down at his coffee and lets out a small laugh. I love the sound of his laughter, as low as it was, and I love that I’m the one making him laugh. 

He puts his coffee back on the table and leans back in his chair. Placing his elbow on the arm, he rests his chin on the back of his hand.

“Do you enjoy it?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“Some days I do, and some days I don’t. It depends on what I’m reading.”
“Do you only proofread books?”

“No, I proofread speeches, trial transcripts, and sometimes news or magazine articles. It has to be over a certain number of words for those last ones, though. Otherwise, it’s a waste of time.”

“Any recommendations?”
“In regard to books I’ve proofread or just any books in general?”
“Either is fine.”

“Well, I don’t make a habit of rereading the books I’ve already proofread once they are published. I have a very narrow interest in book genres, and a lot of my client’s works don’t fall into that interest list.” I giggle softly.

“What books do fall into your narrow interests, Camilla?”
“Not any that would interest you, Detective,” I say cheekily.
“Try me.” He throws out the challenge while wiggling his perfect bloody brows at me.
“Ok, Detective,” I say sarcastically “, Blush by Laila Mills*.”
“And what’s the genre?”
“Romance/drama with a side of sexy.”
“I like the sound of that,” he says while unknowingly biting his bottom lip.

“Huh, ok,” I say in shock.” I wouldn’t have pegged you for a romance kinda guy.” I nod at him in approval.

“Never judge a book by its cover, Camilla.” He winks at me while crossing his leg over the other, creating a V shape.

“Touché, Detective, touché. Well, in that case, are you ready for the next one?”

“Hit me!” he quips back.
“Everything I Wanted.”
“Genre?”
“Erotica.” 

His lips curl into a sexy smirk while his finger flicks up to the middle of his mouth. I watch as his eyes narrow at me. I’ve caught his attention with that last book.

“Erotica, huh?” he asks suggestively.
“Yes, Detective,” I reply coyly. “And the same author that wrote SDS wrote that one as well.”
“Interesting…” He pauses. “What kind of erotica?”
“Buy the book and find out,” I say while tilting my head to the side and lightly nibbling on my nail.

As he’s about to reply, my phone rings in my pocket. I put my finger up, “hold that thought.” 

I pull my phone out and see that it’s Sterling calling. 

Shit! I think to myself.

“You can answer that,” Jon says, pointing to my phone.

I silence the call and put my phone back in my pocket.

“It’s not important. I’ll call them back later.”
“Are you…” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before my phone starts blowing up with messages.
“I’m so sorry, Jon, this is ridiculous.” I sighed, shaking my head.
“Don’t worry about it; you’re needed,” he says with a warm smile.
“I’m going to have to go; I’m so sorry.” I look at him with sad eyes.
“Don’t be sorry, Camilla. I should probably make a move myself.”
“It was so nice chatting with you, Jon,” I say softly to him.

“You too, Camilla,” he pauses, “Umm…” clearing his throat, “I would very much like to do this again sometime, I mean if you’re up for it?” I can hear the nervousness in his voice. I smile and nod. A smile from ear to ear appears on his face. “Great,” he nods. “That’s great.” 

He lets out a kinda half giggle, half cough. 

“I already have your number, Detective. Perhaps this time, I’ll give you mine?” I say sarcastically.

“Yes, that would be wonderful.” He pulls his phone out of his pants pocket, unlocks it, and then hands it to me across the table. I type in my number and then give it back to him.

“So I’ll talk to you later,” I look at him curiously.
“You definitely will, Camilla,” he says, standing up and making his way over to me.
“Cool,” I say, standing up and stepping out from behind the table.

It becomes abundantly clear just how tall he is now that we are standing so close to each other. 

“Enjoy the rest of your day, Jon,” I say, looking up at him through my lashes and smiling.

“You too, Camilla.” He lightly pinches the end of my nose between his fingers, smiles, then turns and walks away. I don’t move. He just touched me. The thought starts to set in. “Jon just touched me, my face,” I say quietly to myself while reaching for my nose. 

I can still feel his soft touch lingering on my skin. I take a few moments to enjoy it before my inner voice interrupts and screams, HE JUST TOUCHED YOU! 

“What does that MEAN?” I ask aloud, still standing next to the table. I realise the scene I’m creating when people walking past start looking at me like a crazy woman. I give them a nervous smile, pull myself together and hurry back to my apartment as fast as I can. My phone goes off again in my pocket as I open the doors to my apartment building. 

Shit, I forgot to reply to Sterling! I think to myself.

I pull my phone out and message him back.

This is it. I think to myself as the reality of our impending conversation starts to set in.