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Or perhaps not. When he came home this afternoon and invited me tothis thing I have to do tonight,I assumed the event was along the lines of a working dinner. Now that we’re seated and the evening has begun, I realize otherwise.
I feel a tiny smile. Leave it to John to turn dinner with friends into a duty.
There are two other couples. Both of the men are former agents who’ve worked for John. One, Cole, is out of the business altogether and has recently returned home to Chandor. The other lives in Denver with his brand new wife and works for the DEA in its offices there. The men are close to my age. The women are obviously still in their twenties.
The ladies are beautiful, and I love both their outfits. The black slacks I scrounged up are getting worn, but at least my blouse is pretty, a lucky find at a resale shop last year. The purchase was a splurge at the time, not because it was expensive but because I had nowhere to wear it.
John took me by the apartment to pick it up. While we were there, he scouted the premises like he expected to turn up bad guys behind every bush and closed door. Made me anxious for no reason.
Annalise curls into her husband’s side. They were obvious as newlyweds even before I was told. She’s beautiful. Really gorgeous, the kind of beauty that other women either fear or begrudge. She’s also bubbly and upbeat—and clearly the youngest of the group.
I’ve decided what I’m ordering already, but I peruse the menu as the others talk. Well, as everyone except John talks. He taps a pink sweetener packet on the table in a staccato beat.
Apparently, the wives have never met before, so their conversation is the get-to-know-you variety.
“I start my new job on Monday,” says Evie, Cole’s wife. “It’ll only be parttime, though.” I peer up in time to see her pat her growing belly. Annalise asks what she does and Evie tells her she’s a physician’s assistant. Evie return-volleys the same question. Annalise is some sort of analyst in the financial sector.
My palms begin to sweat. Sure enough, I’m next. I produce a smile. “I work in a dental office.” Sounds slightly better thanI work in a greasy spoon diner.
“Are you a hygienist?” Evie is smiling openly.
I shake my head. “Office staff.”
She nods, still warm, but there isn’t anywhere to go with my answer, so the conversation moves along. Cole nudges her arm. “Tell them what you did last week.”
Evie grins. “I delivered a baby.”
Everyone—even my stoic…date?—ahs.
“Last day on the job, mind you, and this very pregnant lady comes in claiming stomach pain. Didn’t take long to figure out the problem, but before the ambulance arrived to transport her to the hospital, here comes baby.” She rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t that kind of clinic, but we made do.”
Her husband squeezes her shoulder. “Eviemade do. The doctor on shift wasn’t back from lunch yet, so she got full honors. And, she did a fantastic job. The cord was wrapped around the kid’s neck and everything. But Evie knew what to do.” Pride beams from his eyes.
Wow. Let’s see. Marlene came inches from dropping five chicken fried steak specials last week and I swooped in and steadied the loaded tray before it crashed to the tile.
I feel John’s arm slide across the top of my chair. There’s a smile in his eyes, even if, as always with the softer emotions, it’s subtle and understated. His closeness means the world to me in this new arena. His fingers give my shoulder a squeeze, following up with tiny caresses as the conversation moves on.
The waiter takes our orders. Marco, every bit as handsome as his wife is beautiful, leans to say something privately to the waiter, who nods before continuing the order-taking. My guess is Marco is claiming the bill for the night. Indeed, John’s arm tenses along my back. It’s a man thing, I suppose.
Taking a small wedge of bread from the loaf at the center of the table, I dip a piece into the seasoned olive oil in the ramekin by my knife. The talk shifts to the men’s work. Boy, do they have tales to tell, stories that sound more like movie scripts. John eventually joins in. There’s laughter—and I’m glad they can find humor in situations that I’m sure at the time were anything but funny.
The food is taking its time. I seize the moment and excuse myself to the restroom. As I wash my hands a minute later, the door opens and in glides Annalise.
“Hey. Everything okay?” Her cheerful smile meets mine in the mirror.
“Sure.”
“Good. Hey, wait for me.” She sails into a stall and the lock clicks. “We’re so happy you came tonight. Marco was shocked when he heard John was joining us.”
“Why is that?” I think I know—so, yes, I’m prying.
She laughs from behind the door. “John—Chavez, as he’s usually referred to—is known as a wee-bit of a…what shall we say? Grump?” Another laugh. “He doesn’t socialize, and Marco nearly choked on an ice cube when John smiled a little while ago.”
Eek. It’s worse than I thought.
“Honestly, this is only the second time I’ve been around him. He came to our wedding but didn’t stay for the reception. I only saw him at the end when we walked down the aisle. Alone. Scowling.”
Sounds about right.
