Seven weeks after the armed robbery case was officially closed, Conner Brandt called Zoe and invited her to lunch. Sitting in a small Greek restaurant in Midtown not sure if it was business or a date, Zoe was uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” said Conner as the waiter handed them menus.

“Do you usually take your witnesses out to lunch?” said Zoe, hoping the answer was no.

“Not usually,” said Conner sheepishly. “I don’t mix business with my personal life. But, since your case was closed due to the perp being deceased and there were no other loose ends, I figured it was okay. Are you uncomfortable with us having lunch?”

“I was surprised when you called.”

“Good surprised?” said Conner, smiling.

Zoe smiled back, lost in the intensity of his light-blue eyes. “Very good surprised. It’s not every day I get to have lunch with a man who carries a gun. You are carrying a gun now, right?” said Zoe, her eyes flashing, making Conner laugh.

Weeks later, when news got back to Juliet that Zoe was dating Special Agent Conner Brandt, Juliet’s knives came out. From then on, she only spoke to her shift partner when it was absolutely necessary. After weeks of icy silence that made it difficult for Zoe to do her job, she confronted Juliet.

“Do you have a problem with me?” she whispered to Juliet in the back of the restaurant on a slow night.

“What gave you that idea?” said Juliet, turning to walk away.

“You’ve always been bitchy to me but ever since I started dating Conner, it’s become more pronounced. Even the staff have noticed. What’s your problem?”

“No problem,” said Juliet with a haughty smirk. “You think I care that you’re dating some FBI agent? He’s cute but that’s about it. If you want to date a civil servant, go right ahead. I’m waiting for a hedge-fund manager or a technology entrepreneur so I can live in style. Go knock yourself out with your cop.”

Four months later, after a whirlwind courtship that took Zoe’s breath away, Conner Brandt asked Zoe Ferreira to marry him.

Sitting on the couch in Zoe’s living room watching TV one night, Conner got down on one knee.

“What are you doing?” said a confused Zoe.

Conner cleared his throat. “Zoe, the past sixteen weeks have been the happiest time of my life. While I know it’s only been a short time—”

Zoe’s eyes widened as it dawned on her what was happening. “Are you saying what I think you’re going to say? Because if you are maybe you should—”

“Zoe, can you be quiet. I’m trying to ask you to marry me.”

“For real?”

Conner smiled. “Can I finish?” Zoe nodded.

“Things have moved along so fast but I know I want you in my life. Will you marry me?”