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(apart from this week, anyway).

    “Matteo’s really not that bad of a guy,” I said. “Once you get to know him better, you’ll see.”

    “Uh-huh.”

    “No, really. He turned down a chance to go to Scores with his pals tonight. And for once he didn’t attempt a pass at me. I wouldn’t say he’s a changed man, but I do think he’s willing to make some adjustments in his lifestyle to see that his second marriage succeeds. I know it’s important to him.”

    “Enough about your ex-husband. When can I see you again?”

    “After Matt’s wedding on Saturday.”

    “That’s too long, Cosi. Come over to my place tomorrow night.”

    “I wish I could, but I have way too much to do this week. And by the way, Lieutenant, didn’t you tell me the next six weeks are going to be pretty hairy for you?”

    Ten days ago, Mike had been assigned to step in for a detective lieutenant on medical leave. The man had been overseeing a special experimental task force. As Mike explained it to me, prescription drug abuse along with an increased availability of heroin and opiates were resulting in a rash of overdose fatalities in the city. CompStat identified the pattern, and Mike’s captain at the Sixth had proposed a special task force.

    The small unit of detectives Mike was now overseeing combined his past expertise in homicide as a precinct detective and narcotics as an anticrime street cop. Nicknamed the OD Squad, these detectives were tasked with investigating any drug overdose within New York’s five boroughs, lethal or not, and documenting the victim’s sources, whether legit or not. It was a complicated tour of duty that involved liaising with medical professionals, DEA agents, and New York’s Office of Alcohol and Substance Abuse Services.

    Tonight’s case had put Mike on the Upper East Side. He and another detective were just driving away from the hospital, where a wealthy young banker was taken after he’d overdosed on a mix of prescription drugs and cocaine.

    “The guy was still alive when the maid found him,” Mike said. “But just barely. We thought we might get a statement out of him, but he’s down for the count. We’ll try again in the morning.”

    “Oh, God. I hope he makes it.”

    “Yeah, so do I. He’s twenty-six and already divorced. The ex-wife showed right away at the hospital, even before the mother. None of them knew anything about his habit.”

    I closed my eyes, the details bringing back way too many bad memories. Suddenly, I was feeling more tired than ever—and wanting to see Mike more than ever, too. “Promise me you’ll stop by the Blend when you get a chance, okay?”

    “Sure, but I still don’t believe you can’t get away for one night this week.” Mike’s deep voice went low again, back to sexy growl mode. “Come on, Cosi, one night. Believe me, sweetheart, I’ll make it worth your while.”

    I didn’t doubt he could. “Let’s see how the week goes.”

     
WHEN my bedside phone rang the next morning, I rolled over and picked it up with eyes closed and a dreamy smile on my face.

    Mike and I had been making love in a secluded Hawaiian cove on white sugar sand. The sweet weight of his solid body was stretched out on top of me, his caramel-brown hair lifting on the Pacific evening breeze. A banner of glittering stars flickered above us, the rhythmic crashing of the night surf the only sound.

    “Hello?” I whispered, expecting to hear Mike Quinn’s delicious growl again.

    “Clare, dear, are you awake ?”

    “Madame?” My eyelids instantly lifted.

    “You’re opening in less than an hour. My goodness, aren’t you out of bed yet?”

    Except for the cotton candy pinkish crack of sunrise between the drawn drapes, the room was still dark. I reached over and clicked on the lamp. The clock radio read 6:40.

    “I ended up closing last night,” I told Matt’s mother through a half-stifled yawn, “so Tucker agreed to open for me today.”

    “I woke you