“Good. Thanks for asking. Would you like menus?” Not that they needed them.
Alan shook his head. “I won’t be staying for dinner.”
She did a mental fist pump. Maybe she could get rid of them and Lance so she could finally get work done.
Danny Cahill said nothing, so she turned to face him. “Would you like anything to eat?” Please say no.
“If my father’s not staying, I guess I’ll head home for dinner. I might even be able to see my kids before they disappear with friends.”
She smiled, nodded, and went to get Alan’s coffee.
When she returned, the tension at the table was tangible. Alan was not happy. She set the cup in front of him and backed away. Curiosity had her lingering nearby.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Alan asked.
The muscle in Danny’s jaw twitched. “It was the right thing to do. Thomas had already hired him and he has the experience to lead.”
Were they talking about Ronan? The timing led her to believe they were, but she supposed it could be anyone. They employed so many people she’d met over the years.
“I’ve been telling you he’s up to no good.”
“He’s not like his brother Brendan. He’s no trouble.”
Chloe stifled a laugh. Now she had confirmation they were talking about Ronan, but to say that Brendan was the troublemaker and Ronan was the good brother was laughable. She’d never heard a peep about Brendan doing anything terribly wrong. Fights and stuff as a kid. In fact, he was so upstanding that her parents didn’t mind that he was a few years older than her when he’d asked her out at sixteen.
He’d grown up, joined the military, and then the FBI. In the meantime, Ronan, if the rumors held any truth, had done pretty much every bad thing he could think of.
Their voices quieted for a moment and then Danny stood. His face was tight as he leaned down over his father. “It’s been twenty years.”
“At least if he’s that close you can keep an eye on him.”
Danny shook his head, and then he walked past Chloe with a stiff nod. She returned to the table to see if Alan needed anything else. She was usually a little awestruck seeing him up close and personal. He’d been mayor of the city when she was younger. He’d only been in office for a single term, but he was connected to so many people and families she knew it was kind of like seeing one of your own in charge.
Now he just looked old. She supposed he was in his seventies because Danny was in his forties. Danny had kids who were in high school and college. Alan was older than her parents, but they had friends in common.
Alan turned to her, his face as stormy as Danny’s had been. She briefly wondered if he felt like he was staring in a mirror when he looked at Danny.
“I’m done, Chloe. Thank you for the coffee. Tell Alastair I stopped by.” He paused. “I assume he’s not in?”
“No. He’s at least halfway retired. Mrs. Byrne wants him to retire all the way, but you know how it is when you own your own business. He can’t just walk away. I’ll be sure to tell him you said hi.”
He patted her arm with his wrinkled, pale, spotted hand. “You’re a good girl.”
She forced a smile. “Thanks.”
Always the good girl. She was so tired of that label. It was like a jacket that didn’t fit. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get it zipped.
As the old man left, she wiped down the table. Someone tapped her shoulder. She turned and a tall, lanky redhead stood in front of her.
“Chloe?”
“Lance.” She forced another smile. His face had cleared up since adolescence, and his hairline was receding. Other than that, he looked much the same.
“Is now a good time?”
“Sure. Let’s grab a table. What would you like to drink?”
“I’m good with coffee if that’s okay with you.”
“Take a seat,” she said, pointing to a small table. “I’ll be right back.”
She ran to the bar, poured two cups of coffee, adding a shot of whiskey to hers. She sat across from Lance.
“I remember seeing you when we were growing up, but we never really knew each other. Tell me about yourself.”
“Not much to tell. I’m manager here.”
“Your mom was telling me that this is temporary while you figure out what’s next.”
“Well, that’s what she’d like to believe. You know moms. I like it here.” She took a gulp of coffee.
“What do you do outside of work?”
She thought for a minute. She hated first date small talk. “I’m a master binger?”
“Binger?” His whole forehead—and there was a lot of it—crinkled.
“I find a new TV show to stream and plow through every episode of every season in record time,” she said with a smile. It was a joke. Mostly.
“Oh. I don’t have much time to watch TV. What else?”