When Nick Amaro first saw her she had her nose in a book and her feet kicked up on his desk.
He sighed and tried to spot anyone from his squad but it was so early in the morning and nobody was there- besides Nick and the mystery girl.
She was plain, a skinny white girl with brown hair and freckles, nothing spectacular about the loose fitting skinny jeans, Nick thought they looked like a boyfriend’s pair of jeans,
and a medium gray long sleeve.
In fact, she looked like every other white woman her age in New York and Nick used that to justify the fact that he obviously didn’t know her, but he should have.
When he approached her she made no move or sign to show that she heard him approach, instead she leisurely turned another page and kept reading.
Nick set his bag down and then reached for her shoulder, giving it a shake.
The woman started, the beanie that sat on top of her hair falling off as she kicked back from the desk and pushed Nick roughly by his shoulder.
When she made eye contact, however, the fierce look on her face faded to surprise and Nick watched as she reached up and fiddle with her ear.
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