“Jeez, John, give it a chance to defend itself,” Richie said with a laugh as he jogged to catch up, his messenger bag bopping his hip and his ramen knotted up into a neat take-out bag.

“No time,” John said through an entire falafel ball, scraping food off his mouth with a napkin. “Gotta make it to Rikers by three. Got a client on limited visiting hours.”

“Shit, man, you gotta run!”

John raised his eyebrows and turned to do just that when a sunny laugh echoed down the visitors’ section of the security line, sounding very familiar.

John craned his head around to look as he flashed his clip-on ID to Marguerite, the security personnel member who handled the staff line. He’d taken three more steps when he saw her. Richie careened into John’s back when John abruptly came to a halt.

Lettuce and tomato and hummus slopped to the ground with a wet splat from John’s wrap.

“What the hell, John?”

Just then, Mary looked up from her conversation with Carlo, who was looking like a man who was exactly where he wanted to be at that particular second, and spotted John, mouthful of falafel and all.

“Look! There he is!” she crowed, pointing a finger at John and looking utterly delighted. “John! Come over here and prove you know me.”

John strode forward, wishing he were eating carrot sticks or a hot pretzel, anything but this messy glob of food. He felt Richie at his back still, curiosity pulsing off of him in waves.

“Mary. Hi,” John said, scraping at his mouth with the napkin again. “What’re you doing here? Jury duty?”

She laughed and, as usual, it freaking sparkled. Her hair was brushed to a high shine, she smelled like coconut sunscreen and there were large, bug-eyed sunglasses in her hair. She looked like a different species than the bored, irritated New Yorkers who were staring at their phones and inching up the security line.

“No! Ha. I’m not here for jury duty. I’ve never been selected. Though I always wish I would be. Sounds like fun.”

“Fun,” Richie said dimly, standing beside John. He was apparently as dazzled by Mary as Carlo was.

“Hi, I’m Mary Trace.” She shook hands with Richie.

“Richie Dear. I’m John’s officemate.”

“Wow. That’s a great name.”

“I get that a lot. So, if not jury duty, then...” Richie trailed off, glancing between John and Mary, shamelessly tossing logs onto the flame of his curiosity.