Manhattan Flame (A Bridge & Tunnel Romance Book 2) by Mira Gibson Page B

something,” Tasha grumbled.
    It was Greer who supplied, “But not this one cop.”
    She bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile, but her friends knew her too well.
    “Ah,” said Jennifer, knowingly.
    “He believes me,” she pressed then blurted out, “who wouldn’t believe me? I showed them hard evidence.”
    “Hence your camera,” said Greer, but Jenn was still focused on the new man in the mix.
    “So... are you going in for a follow up or whatever it’s called?”
    “Actually,” she said, stepping off the escalator and starting for the long line of customers at the checkout counter. “We exchanged numbers. He’s keeping me posted. We met last night.”
    Greer seemed too surprised for words, but Jennifer didn’t have that problem. “Met, as in...?”
    Her response tumbled right out of her, “No, God no. Nothing like that. We talked at a diner.” The weight of them staring with interest caused her to declare, “New subject, next topic... Jenn, how’s your painting coming along?”
    “What does he look like?” she asked instead.
    Greer had a few ideas of her own to rattle off. “Tight uniform? Authoritative orders? A gun at his hip?”
    Smiling, Tasha glanced ahead at the line that was inching along and mumbled to herself, “God, get me out of here.”
    “We’ll stop,” said Greer. “Calm down. We’re just glad you’re okay.”
    When finally it was Tasha’s turn to step up to one of the eight cashiers, she handed him her basket and held her breath anticipating the total, tax and all. The figure flashed in red on the sales monitor. It was worse than she’d thought. She glanced over her shoulder at her friends and fished her wallet out of her purse. They were discussing the upcoming art openings around Chelsea that they wanted to hit later this week, giving Tasha a chance to lean over the counter and discretely tell the cashier, “I have six cards I’d like to spread the balance on.”
    He didn’t look pleased, but didn’t complain, taking her credit cards and proceeding to divvy up the charges.
    By the time Tasha and her friends were passing through the sliding glass door that opened with a whoosh, she had maxed out her credit and as unnerving as it was, it didn’t compare to the paranoia that was suddenly overcoming her.
    Kevin should’ve caught the guy by now, she thought, glancing up and down the sidewalk then across the street—feeling eyes on her but unable to spot the Russian. If he had the license plate number, he could’ve easily ran it through his system, tracked down the owner, and paid him a visit...
    But Tasha’s gut told her that he hadn’t.
    “Something wrong?” asked Greer when they hadn’t moved in any direction.
    “I’m fine.”
    “Are you?”
    Tasha feigned a smile that felt stiff, asking, “You guys want to head up to Riverside Park? I’ve got everything I need to take some decent shots.”
    The girls exchanged a regretful look then Greer broke the news. “We want to hit the Thornstein Gallery before the complimentary wine ran out.”
    “Hey,” said Tasha easily. “Then don’t let me keep you. I’m just behind on my photos and stressed.”
    Jennifer asked, “You sure you don’t want to come?”
    “She doesn’t need the distraction,” said Greer, speaking for her friend. “We’ll see you later.”
    Greer took a few steps back, motioning to head out, as Jennifer insisted, “If you meet up with the hot cop, then you have to let us know.”
    “I never said he was hot,” she laughed.
    “But your face did,” Jenn pointed out, taking a few strides towards Greer.
    Tasha watched them make their way to the downtown A train, as she approached the crosswalk post and pushed the button. When the walk signal appeared, she made her way across the avenue, her wedge-heeled sneakers tapping lightly against asphalt, and came to the uptown train. After padding down the stairs, she swiped her MetroCard, passing through the turnstile, and jogged along the platform,