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he handle two?
    “Hey, sweetie—you forgot something!” Minal had come up behind him, was tapping him on the shoulder and handing him an insulated bag. He felt his heart thump hard, once, at her wicked grin. That grin wasn’t going to cure his headache, but if Michael could get half an hour alone with her, he was sure Minal would be able to help him out. Sadly, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. The inevitable chorus of hoots and catcalls rose from the guys (and some of the gals).
    “Hey, baby!”
    “What’d you bring for me?”
    “Something hot and sweet, I bet!”
    “I need something spicy!”
    Usually Minal would banter back, but today she was already late for her class. She smiled at the gang, dropped a kiss on Michael’s cheek, and then was out the door again. She let the battered wood slam shut behind her, leaving him to face the music alone.
    Michael knew how to handle this. It’d been two years since he’d come out to his old partner and the rest of the precinct about the threesome; he had this down. “Aw, you guys are just jealous,” he said loudly. That quieted them down, because it was true. Not only due to the sexy bi babe whose curvy body had just walked out the door, but also due to the incredible scents rising out of the little carrier. The insulation might keep the rice and curry warm, but it wasn’t nearly strong enough to keep the scent of Indonesian rendang padang trapped inside the bag.
    Slow-cooked beef, simmered in coriander, curry leaves, ginger, cloves, lemongrass, coconut milk, and he wasn’t sure what else, but he didn’t care. Minal was taking a Southeast Asian class this semester, and Michael was grateful. Her curries were almost as good as his Korean mother’s, and the rest of the precinct was jealous. Any cop knew that while it was nice to come home to some sweet loving after a long day, it was more important to keep your stomach well fed—that’s what would keep you going when the night got long and crazy. Donuts could only carry a man so far.
    Finally, his day was looking up.
    He carried the food over to his desk, and almost dropped it when he saw Franny sitting across from him, at his partner Sally’s desk. “Hi, Michael!” the kid said, his voice just a little too cheerful.

    Two minutes later, Michael was in the captain’s office, wondering how hard he’d have to beg to fix this. “Captain, please. You have got to be kidding me? The kid?” Just minutes ago, life had seemed so good. He’d been happy enough to propose, for God’s sake. He was finally making some progress on his smuggling case, and he had a smart, sexy partner to work with him. Last week, Sally had taken down a mugger with a sneaky Jiu-Jitsu move that might not be academy-approved, but which was nonetheless impressive. And even though she was tough as hammered nails, Sally was also willing to flirt with the nerdy art insurer if it would get them a lead for their case. She had been the perfect partner—and now she was gone, and Michael was about to be thoroughly screwed. And not in a good way.
    Maseryk frowned. “This isn’t your decision, Michael. And it’s not up for debate. Sally deserved that promotion to One Police Plaza, and I’m sorry for the short notice, but they needed her on something urgent. We’ll throw her a racket at the bar Friday night; you can say your good-byes then. I’m promoting Black to be her replacement.” He shrugged. “The truth is, the brass uptown dictated his promotion, and I don’t like it any more than you do. The kid doesn’t know shit. I’ve sidelined him on a dead-end case; you focus on that art ring you and Sally were handling.”
    “But sir—” Michael knew he was pushing, but he couldn’t just let it go.
    But Maseryk was already turning away, back to the mound of papers on his desk. “Enough, Michael. End of story. You can shut the door on your way out.”
    Michael just barely managed not to slam the damn door. He came perilously close,