Chapter Four

They arrived at the small coffee shop around 9:15 that night. They sat at a booth in a corner of the room, where they could talk with the least amount of interruptions. Before they arrived, they had went home to change, Sully into a long sleeved black button up shirt and black jeans, Cruz into a low-cut red v-neck top and low-slung dark blue hip-hugger jeans. She was wearing dark crimson lipstick, mascara, brown eye shadow--stuff that she never wore on a date. And he had his hair carefully combed, and his black shoes actually matched his belt this time. Neither could figure out why they dressed up so much for just a cup of coffee, but that didn't change the fact that they did.
"You look great," Sully said to her.
"You too," she replied. "Why are we dressed up for a cup of coffee?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," he laughed.
"I wonder when the waitress will get over here."
"I have no idea. She looks pretty busy to me."
"Yeah. So, how did your day go?"
"Wasn't too exciting. We caught a few purse-snatchers, gave a few tickets, the usual. How did your day go?"
"Boring as hll. All I did all day was paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork."
"That sucks."
"Yeah, it does. So, what are you going to get when the waitress gets her a$$ over here?"
"Probably just black coffee. You?"
"Probably the same. I heard not long ago about Tatiana, how are you doing after that?"
"After my wife died? How do you expect me to be?"
"You don't have to get so defensive. I'm just asking if you're, you know, okay. I know you still miss her and everything, but I want to know how you're doing without her. Give me some credit, I'm trying to show some compassion, here."
"Okay. I'm okay. I miss her, but I'm finally starting to recover."
"Good."
Just then, the waitress, a young teenager with long, bleach blonde hair and braces on her teeth arrived to take their orders.
"Two black coffees," Sully ordered. "Should be simple enough."
"Yes, sir," the bubbly waitress replied, with a New York accent. "I'll be right back. You two hang on."
After the waitress walked away, the pair sat in an awkward silence until shortly after the waitress returned with their coffees. Finally, Cruz broke the ice and said, "You can ask about it, you know."
"What?" Sully asked. "Your attack?"
"I wasn't really attacked, just violated."
"While you were undercover."
"Yeah. I've been going to a rape counselor, along with a weekly support group, so I'm recovering pretty well. Men don't bother me anymore. I know now that it wasn't my fault, so I don't blame myself anymore."
"So, you are recovering well."
"Yes. I'm handling it better than I handled Lettie dying, that's for sure."
"Yeah, I think you went a little psycho when she died."
"Yeah," she slightly laughed. "But you know how it is to lose someone you care about."
"Tatiana, yeah. She was my wife, so I didn't give a dmn that she was a prostitute for the Russian mafia. I loved her. It's still hard, because I think about her every second of every day. You have no idea how hard it was for me to bring myself to ask you out."
"You have no idea how hard it was for me to get myself to accept. God, this is an unbelievably depressing conversation for a first date. We should be talking about cheerful things like sports..."
He interrupted, "There's nothing cheerful about sports."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," she laughed. "How about TV?"
"All that's on these days is reality shows and soap operas, so why would we want to talk about that?"
She started laughing, "How about pets?"
"The eternal dogs versus cats debate? Dogs win in my book."
"Dogs are definitely better. What kind would you want?"
"You might think this is crazy, but I've always wanted a chihuahua."
"You want a chihuahua? If you want a chihuahua, you might as well get a cat."
"Cats are ugly and unfriendly animals. Chihuahuas are lovable, cute, little humans."
"Cute? I never thought I'd ever hear you say that, Sully."
"You can call me John."
"Naw, Sully sounds better. Besides, I'm more used to calling you Sully. But you can call me Maritza, except at work, of course."
"Of course, Maritza. So, what kind of dog would you want?"
"A doberman or a rottweiler."
"Should've known that you'd go for the more 'vicious' dogs."
She slightly chuckled, "Yeah, but who would've thought you'd go for chihuahuas?"
"I don't know," he laughed.
They talked nonstop until the waitress told them that it was closing time. They put on their coats and walked outside into the cool, autumn air. They'd both honestly thought they wouldn't have a good time, but they ended up talking about almost anything and everything. She learned that he could sing, and he learned that she hated horror movies. They both shared a love for dogs, and they shared a mutual hatred for cats and romance novels.
They got into their respective cars, and he followed her to her apartment building.
"Since we went in separate cars, you don't have to escort me to the door," she told him.
"What if I want to," he said, after he'd gotten out of his car at her building.
He led her up to the door, and when they had reached the top of the steps, they said goodnight to each other. Then, he kissed her gently on the lips before descending the stairs.
"You can come up if you want to," she said.
"No, thanks. I think we'd better wait."
"Okay, if you say so."
She entered the building as he pulled away, hoping that he'd ask her out again. She hated to admit, but she was already starting to fall for him.