Angelo pulled his shortened breakfast back.
“Is that because you truly are a shmuck and they recognize that?” He took a bite himself and continued around a mouthful. “Honestly, what is it with you lately, buddy?”
“I wish I knew, Angelo. I wish…” He’d been idly watching the world go by on the street at the end of the alley.
People were moseying down the hill on their way to the market. Or hurrying up the steep slope with briefcase in one hand and a triple-shot latte in white, carry-out cups of immense size clutched in the other.
—And there she was!
He’d know her anywhere!
A long red-brown ponytail slapping one side to the other. Tight Lycra that followed every curve of her runner’s figure exactly as he’d imagined. Better.
She was glancing over her opposite shoulder, checking to cross
