Page 1 of Beauty and the Cop
Chapter One
Elsie
"What do you thinkof the new place?" Alice asks as I try to hang a picture over the mantle. Try being the operative word here. If I ram my boob into the corner one more time, I may Hulk-smash the whole mantle and start over. "Do you love it yet?"
Her voice crackles through my phone's speaker, her Southern drawl as familiar as it is loud. She sounds happy.
I grunt, balancing awkwardly on my tiptoes, one hand gripping the frame while the other flails uselessly for balance. The corner of the mantle jabs me in the boob again, sharp enough to make me wince.
"Why is moving such a pain in the ass?" I grumble.
"How should I know?" Alice laughs. "I'm never doing it. Does that mean you hate the new place?"
"No, I love it," I murmur while lifting higher to try to hook the frame onto the nail. Of course, the corner of the mantle gouges my nipple again. "Aside from the mantle currently trying to murder my boob, it's got great bones. And it's close enough to the school for me to walk to work."
"Uh, you better not be walking to work in Chicago. Are you crazy?" my best friend practically shouts at me.
I laugh softly at her panicked tone. "It's fine. I think my hot neighbor is a cop, so I'm safe."
"Oh, a hot neighbor!" she cries, immediately taking the bait. If I know anything, it's Alice. Nothing distracts her faster than a gorgeous man and the prospect of her bestie finally getting laid. "If you don't tell me that you've already borrowed sugar and found out his entire life story, we can't be friends anymore. Wait. He's a cop? Really?"
"Yeah." I finally hook the picture onto the nail and then step back to admire my handiwork, rubbing at my sore boob while I assess. The picture is so crooked, Picasso would be impressed.
A level would be nice…if I knew how to use one. Sadly, my home improvement skills end at macrame DIY and origami, not basic carpentry. I didn't even own a hammer until yesterday.
"At least, I think so. He drives an unmarked unit, but it looks like a cop car to me."
There's a pause on Alice's end before she speaks again. "So…let me get this straight. You've been living there for what? Three days? And you're already creeping on your neighbor's car?"
"I'm not creeping," I argue defensively, though heat rises to my cheeks anyway. I'm totally creeping. Am I admitting it to her? Hell no. I'm a creeper, not a mad woman. "I just happened to notice the car when he pulled into his driveway last night."
"And by 'happened to notice,' you mean you pressed your face against your window and stared at him like a lovesick puppy, don't you?"
"No!" My objection is too loud to be believable.
"Uh-huh." Alice bursts out laughing again. "You little liar."
"Shut up," I mumble, grinning.
"Seriously. It could just be a car, Elsie."
"Maybe," I say, straightening the picture. By some miracle, the mantle doesn't attack me this time. I kind of doubt the neighbor's car is 'just a car', though. I'm not entirely sure, because I've only seen him at a distance, but I'm pretty sure he was wearing a Chicago PD T-shirt when I caught a glimpse of him while I was moving stuff in. And bymoving stuff in, I obviously mean I watched and gave out helpful commentary like, "Careful, that's heavy," while two guys with a truck moved stuff for me. I work smarter, not harder.
"You haven't met him?"
"Not yet. I think he works a lot." He's home at odd, random hours. Usually, by the time I look again, he's already gone again. Aside from the day I moved in, I've only set eyes on him one other time, and that was through his living room window when I was walking by.
He seemed harmless enough that time…in a ripped, shirtless giant kind of way. I may have stopped to tie my shoe. And bytie my shoe, I mean I discreetly creeped on him through the window. But again, not telling Alice that.
A girl's gotta get her thrills somewhere, and her business is her business. No need to involve anyone else.
"He could be in the mafia."
I snort with laughter. "In this neighborhood? I doubt it."
"You never know. You do live in Chicago now. I bet the mafia is everywhere."
I shake my head, smiling. One of my favorite things about Alice is her wild imagination. No one spirals into outlandish theories as impressively or as hard as she does. "You read too much."
