Breakfast with Detective
EMILY "Breakfast?" he asked, like he hadn't just threatened murder before 7 AM. "Breakfast," I agreed. I laughed, giddy and terrified of how much I wanted to stay. The morning light filtered through the windows, turning Leo's kitchen into a cathedral of glass and steel. He stood there in pajama pants and nothing else, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who'd just promised to dismember my ex. The doorbell rang at 6:47 a.m. The sound was jarring, like a note played off-key in an otherwise perfect symphony. My phone, abandoned on the marble island, lit up with three missed calls and a cascade of texts from a number I didn't recognize. I swiped the screen with a thumb still trembling from last night. Emily, this is your production assistant here. Chemistry read with Ju
- Writer
