"He'll be joining you in two weeks at most. When there are no cases, you can move around the precinct freely. I think your daughter needs a mother, and this is a good opportunity."
Hawk took off his hat, rubbed his shiny bald head, and grinned at Harry. "Dean's right. Your old flames were thrilled to hear you're working over here. They even started a chat group and scheduled turns to meet up with you."
Harry's face, already dark, grew darker.
Before being recruited by Monet, he was a patrol officer here and had 'deep exchanges' with many of the lonely clerks—physical, not emotional.
Just the way of the world for people like them. Harry wasn't afraid of this. But his kidneys couldn't take it.
Fortunately, he later moved to the Detective Bureau. The most he had to do there was occasionally leverage his charms when he needed intel.
Now, he had returned to the precinct...
Harry could already see his dismal future.
