We sat down and that’s when I realized I was sandwiched between the two men. The table sat six, but there was an empty chair between Ryker and my father. Oh lord, as if this evening wasn’t awkward enough already …
“Nice shirt,” Parker said to Ryker, making my head swivel around. I hadn’t noticed, but Ryker had dressed nicer than usual. He still wore jeans and boots, but his shirt was button-down and he wore a sport coat underneath his leather jacket. Granted, it wasn’t a suit, nor was it the quality or caliber of Parker’s or my father’s attire, but I was glad he’d made an effort.
I leaned closer to him. “Yeah, you look really nice,” I said in an undertone. I smiled at him, hoping to put him a little more at ease, and he finally smiled back. A real smile that softened his eyes.
“Would you care for some wine, sir?” the waiter asked Ryker.
“Do you have any beer?” he asked instead.
“Yes, sir. Which brand would you like?” He rattled off a list of at least a half-dozen.
“Just a Budweiser, if you have it,” Ryker said.
“Absolutely. I’ll be right back with that, sir.”
“So you’re a police officer,” my mother said, pulling our attention to her. “What kind of police work do you do?”
“I’m a homicide detective,” Ryker replied.
“And is that dangerous?”
He hesitated, and I could see where this was going. “It can be,” he answered honestly.
My mother shot me a look that said loud and clear what she thought of that.
“What about your parents?” Dad asked. “Was your dad a police officer, too?”
“My father left my mother when I was young,” Ryker said. “I haven’t seen him since.”
Awkward silence.
The waiter returned with a chilled glass and poured a bottle of beer into it. No one spoke until he’d finished and set the glass in front of Ryker, then left again.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mom said. “Does your mother live close?”
“She moved to Florida a few years ago,” Ryker said. “The warm weather was preferable to Chicago winters.”
“I can’t disagree with her there,” Mom said with a smile. “She sounds like a smart lady.”
“She is,” Ryker agreed. “Raised me on her own in a part of Chicago most people try to ignore exists.”
“Which part?” Dad asked.
“Englewood.”
“I grew up not far from there,” Dad replied. “I still have some cousins on that side of town.”
“Really? What’re their names?”
I wanted to slap my hand over Dad’s mouth, but he was proud of his family and how not only had he made something of himself, but so had my uncles.
“The Muccinos. Maybe you’ve heard of them?”
Ryker blanched, his accusing gaze swiveling to mine. I gave him a weak smile.
“I have, actually,” he said, still looking at me. His gaze flicked briefly to Parker, then back to my Dad. “I didn’t realize Sage Reese was Sage Muccino.”
Dad laughed. “The one and same.”
And things only went downhill from there.
By the look on his face, I didn’t think Ryker liked most of the things on the menu, and ended up getting the steak while I had the duck and Parker ordered the halibut. My mother asked Ryker a lot of questions, but his answers weren’t elaborate. I knew he was pissed about Parker being there, but it wasn’t like there was anything I could do about it.
I think Dad figured out pretty quick that Ryker wasn’t in a chatty mood, so he focused his attention on Parker as they discussed the relative strength of the dollar and the Asian markets. I tuned them out. Our food took an excruciatingly long time to arrive, by which time my mother was glancing helplessly at me and I was on my third glass of wine. Or was it the fourth?
“So I imagine you must deal with a lot of the seedy side of Chicago,” Dad asked Ryker as he cut into the lamb he’d ordered.
“Homicide isn’t known for rescuing kittens from trees, no,” Ryker replied dryly, which I thought was a little rude. I shot him a look, but my father just chuckled.
“True. How long have you been a cop?”
“Seven years,” Ryker replied. “Shortly after I was discharged, I went into the Academy.”
“Discharged? You were in the service?”
“The Marines.”
Dad turned to Parker. “You were in the Marines, too, weren’t you, Anderson?”
“Yes. Coincidentally, in the same platoon as Detective Ryker.”
Both my parents looked up from their plates at this, glancing first at Parker, then Ryker.
I took another gulp of wine, draining my glass. Raising my hand slightly, I signaled the waiter for a refill.
“So you two know each other,” Mom said.
“It was a long time ago,” Parker evaded.
Ryker’s cell phone buzzed and he dug it out of his pocket. “I’m sorry, I need to take this,” he said, pushing back from the table.
My father waved him on as the waiter cleared our plates and dropped off the dessert menu.