Harry put his hands on my desk and leaned toward me.
"Screw the paperwork. It'll be here when you get back. Come out for breakfast with an old friend. You work too hard anyway. Enjoy life, Jackie. Stop being married to the job."
I wasn't sure eating breakfast with Harry would qualify as enjoying life, but what he said was very similar to what Herb had said. Did I want, at the end of my life, for my epitaph to be, "She was a good cop"?
I guess that I did.
But even a good cop has to eat.
"Fine. A quick breakfast. But I have no desire to see myself on the silver screen, Harry."
"Some big names are interested in your part, Jackie. I've heard the name Roseanne being bandied around. It's a Hollywood rule. All tough-guy heroes need a humorous sidekick."
"Now I'm definitely not going to sign that paper."
"Sure you're not."
He grinned again, and I got up and grabbed my coat.
"I know this terrific new pancake place, just opened." Harry held the door for me, the first gentlemanly act I'd ever seen him perform. "If you don't like it, it's my treat."
"I hate it already."
We walked out the door.