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I snorted, the visual image too much.
“Colonel,” Dad said sternly, sticking out his hand. Oh, here we go. Mace shook it, but not before shooting me a look.
Yes, my father was a decorated army officer who had spent years defending the country. At sixty-one, he had only retired the previous year, which had given him even more time to try and interfere with my life.
Once we were all seated, the awkward silence I’d been awaiting drifted over us. Perfect time to bring up my win.
“So, I won my first case,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood. Going into law had been completely my decision, but I knew how proud it made both Mom and Dad. They loved the path I’d chosen, and were always happy to hear about work.
My diversion tactic worked. “Honey, that’s wonderful,” Dad gushed.
Hugs all around. I sighed, exhaling slowly. Maybe this wasn’t going to go so badly after all. But deep down, I knew this distraction was going to be short lived. Sooner or later, the focus would shift back to all the ways my father thought Mace wasn’t good enough for me.
“How’s retirement?” I asked Dad, desperately trying to delay the inevitable.
“Good. I’ve become quite the gardener,” he announced proudly. “I’ve mastered herbs, and I’m moving on to vegetables.”
“That’s great,” I said with way too much enthusiasm. Mace snorted, then attempted to cover it up with a cough. Dad narrowed his eyes, the smile disappearing from his face.
Here we go.
“So, Mace . . . Short for Mason, I presume?” Dad cocked an eyebrow and stabbed at his entrée of calamari. He shot Mace a look that I recognized well. I’d seen it used before on numerous boyfri
ends to scare the hell out of them. Usually it worked, too. But Mace didn’t seem fazed . . . yet.
“Nope. Just Mace.”
“Right. Mace. So what do you do?” Dad asked. I swallowed hard and reached for the water, wishing like hell it was something stronger.
“I fix bikes.”
“You fix bikes?” Dad repeated, dumbfounded. Like the idea that someone might actually be paid to fix bikes had never occurred to him. Well, this was Dad—it probably hadn’t.
“Yep.”
Oh God, you gotta give him more than that.
These one-word answers were killing me, and I could tell they were pissing the hell out of Dad. I squeezed Mace’s leg under the table, hoping it conveyed my message clearly.
“I, uh, run my own business,” he finally added. Wow. He even managed a smile and some eye contact.
“Oh? That must be interesting.” Dad couldn’t have sounded more patronizing if he’d tried. Mace’s jaw clenched. I prayed to the gods to put a stop to the disaster I could see coming. “And your family? What line of work are they in?” He reached for a bread roll and began slicing it open. Oh, God. Anything but family . . .
“Mom died when I was two, and Dad’s in jail.”
My father actually dropped his knife, smearing butter all over the sleeve of his Armani suit. Oh, God. I dropped my head in defeat.
“Yeah, you’ve probably heard of him. Ronald Jordan? I’m surprised Leeta didn’t tell you she was dating criminal royalty.”
Dad turned to me, his expression tight as he waited for an explanation. I glanced at Mom for help, but she was busy focusing on her roll as though it were a kidney she was preparing for a transplant.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds—”
“Leet, let me finish. I might as well tell him everything, right? A rival gang member of my dad’s murdered my mother in front of my brother and I. My sister committed suicide last year. My brother is in jail as well. The same jail as Dad, actually. Which makes it really handy for family gatherings.” He pushed his plate away, tossing his napkin on the table in front of him. “Anything else you want to know?” he challenged.
My heart broke for him. He had seen his mother murdered? I mean, I knew she’d been killed, but I’d had no idea he had witnessed it. I couldn’t even imagine how awful that would have been. I’d known she hadn’t been around since he was a kid, and that his dad had raised him and his brother—if you could call that parenting.
Mace was a very private person, especially when it came to his background. Some days he would let me in and I’d see this wonderful, fun guy, and other days, all I could see was the pain that consumed him.
