Page 13 of Falling For You

ANDY

It took me a couple of weeks to find the right place. I wanted a fresh start. Somewhere Elliot Handler had never touched.

I found a duplex on a block off West Ashmont. It was bigger than my old apartment, more space than I needed, but I liked that about it. It sat in a quiet neighborhood with older homes, wide porches, and trees that had been there longer than anyone on the street.

"Where do you want this one?"

One of the movers had my father's bookshelf balanced against the dolly.

"Long wall. Living room."

I lined up my father's books on the shelf and set my parents' photo in the middle.

"We're home."

I spent the next few days walking around the neighborhood. The old man down the street watered his lawn at six every evening regardless of whether it needed it. The couple at the vintage shop a block over propped their door open and let music drift out onto the sidewalk. The kids walked home from school in a pack and scattered at the stop sign.

I stopped at the flower shop two blocks over. The door was propped open, which let the smell of fresh-cut flowers drift out onto the sidewalk. Buckets lined the floor and small arrangements crowded a wooden table near the register.

"Hi there. Are you looking for something, or just browsing?"

A woman behind the counter looked up from a bundle of sunflowers she was wrapping in brown paper.

"Just walking around. I moved in down the street a few days ago."

"You're new!" She set the sunflowers down and came around the counter, wiping her hands on her apron before holding one out. "I'm Daphne. Welcome to the neighborhood."

I shook it. "Andy."

"Andy. How are you settling in?"

"Getting there."

"It's a good neighborhood. Quiet, but there's enough going on that you won't go crazy. I close the shop around six, and a few nights a week I do cleaning at one of the casinos. I walk home after and I've never had any trouble."

"That's good to hear. I see enough trouble at work."

"Where do you work?"

"LVMPD. I'm a patrol officer."

"Really? That makes me feel a lot better." She smiled. "It's nice to know there's a cop just around the block."

She told me which streets were best for walking, where to get coffee in the morning, and who on the block would wave back if I waved first. Before I left, she reached into one of the buckets by the door, pulled out a single pink carnation, and held it out to me.

"Housewarming gift."

"You don't have to do that."

"I own a flower shop. I absolutely do."

I walked the block because I wanted to know it. I considered it due diligence to learn every face, every door, every business in the neighborhood where I was going to live. I'd done the same at my last apartment, and every beat I'd ever worked.

The point wasn't to make friends. Establishing rapport with civilians made the job easier. People talked to you, flagged things that felt off, trusted you when it mattered. But there was a line between rapport and attachment, and I stayed behind it. I couldn't let personal opinions color the job. Daphne was offering me a flower. Technically, cops aren't supposed to accept gifts, but it wasn't like Daphne was bribing me.

I took the carnation with a smile. "Thank you, Daphne."

"It was nice to meet you, Officer."