She and I have that in common. Or would, if I lived on a stoop. [ Which is to say that Izzy's protective of her home, especially those who live in it. (Or was back in New York; here she's on her own.)

As tactile a person as she is, Izzy doesn't rush to let go of Dick's hand once they're inside, even though the fearsome cat is outside and they've only just met. His hand feels warm against her own, almost inviting, and she likes the feel of it.

She does half-turn towards him as they settle in behind the other customers, though. ] So, Dick — are you a coffee purist, or do you prefer the fancy, sugar-filled lattes?