The officer climbed out of his car and walked over towards me.
"Be right with you," I said, gritting my teeth as I finished tightening the screws into the frame.
"Take your time," he said, in a rough, sorry voice that sounded like his vocal cords had been rubbed with sandpaper. "I'm in no hurry."
I snuck a peek at him from where I was crouched down at the door. Tall. Over six feet, it looked like. Strong, muscular gym body, if his snugly fitting uniform was any clue.
"Are you here to arrest me?"
"Did you do something bad?" A tiny smile crept over his lips.
"Many things," I said, laughing. "You'll never take me alive, though." I slipped the screwdriver into my back pocket and straightened up to my full height. "We haven't met before, have we?"
He took a step forward and offered me his hand. He was so close to me, I backed up a few steps through the open door and into the shop.
"Kurt Reed."
We shook hands. Good grip.
"Hugo Ciccarelli."
"I knew that. I asked around." He took off his mirror-shade sunglasses, revealing deep, piercing eyes. He looked around the shop, taking in the renovation still-in-progress, shaking his head as if the damage made him disgusted with mankind. "I'm new in the station and I've been assigned this area. I'm going merchant to merchant and introducing myself."
He pulled a wallet out of the inside of his leather jacket and took out a business card.
I took the card from his hand. "Is this a new LAPD public relations thing?"
He nodded. "Never hurts to know the people you're working for."
"Can I offer you a cup of coffee? "
"No, thanks. I've still got a few stops. Do you have any donuts by any chance?"
"I'm afraid not. How's about a chocolate croissant?" He nodded, and I went in and grabbed the biggest croissant in the bakery rack wondering all the while if it was genetic that cops had to have glazed donuts.
He put his glasses back on. "Thanks. Well, I'd heard about the break-in and wanted to stop by and see for myself. It looks like you've got a jump on getting back in business.
"I've got coffee, I've got muffins, I've got tables. Now all I need are my customers back."
"Good luck in getting it all together."
"Thank you. I appreciate that. Stop by again, and I'll give you a double espresso. On the house."
He nodded, turned around and walked back outside.
"I'll see you in a few days, Mr. Ciccarelli."
"Please! Call me Hugo. Everybody else does."
"Okay, Hugo, but only if you call me Kurt."
