TEN MINUTES AFTER they’d entered Sea Salt, Chip knew he’d made a bad choice. Oh, no question the restaurant was as stylish as all the reports, decorated in soothing hues of blue and green, including the stunning crystal chandelier in the entrance—supposedly an original from some famous glassmaker. Although crowded on a Saturday night, the noise level was pleasant, the murmur of voices welcoming, not intrusive. Best of all, the practiced host escorted them straight to their reserved table without a wait.
But Lana appeared nervous, uncomfortable. He should have chosen something more casual for their first date.
Although, damn, she looked amazing. She’d worn a pale yellow dress that fit her as if custom-made, outlining every curve. No cleavage, no slits up the sides of her legs, no skin showing at all except on her subtly muscled arms and legs. Yet Lana Lettino was undeniably sexy. Heads turned as she proceeded ahead of him into the restaurant.
Chip swallowed, appreciating the view of her incredible ass.
The host pulled out a chair for her. Once she was seated, he snapped a napkin and placed it in her lap.
“Thanks,” she murmured with a smile.
“Of course, madam,” the host replied with a crisp bow. “Ricardo will be with you shortly.”
“This place is lovely, Chip,” she said when the host had retreated. “Have you eaten here before?”
“No,” he admitted. “But my dad highly recommends the salmon.”
“Oh, and how is your father?” she asked. “He was always so kind to our family.”
“He’s great, although a little worried about me.”
She grinned. “So nothing has changed in all these years?”
“Hopefully a few things,” Chip said, returning her smile.
She turned her head to gaze around the room, and the light caught the subtle swing of her shoulder-length hair. Lana’s thick dark hair had always fascinated Chip, how she could tie it back in a ponytail or a weird bun with a quick flick of her wrist when she wanted it out of her way. How it was always shiny and clean smelling.
“What?” she asked, refocusing on him.
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just glad to see you again.”
Her cheeks colored, another sign she might be ill at ease. Way to go, Chip. Remember to keep it light.
Their server materialized with their water glasses and asked about drinks. Lana requested a glass of the house chardonnay, and Chip did the same.
“So, what have you been up to since high school?” she asked. “Tell me everything.”
Chip summarized his years at the University of Florida and his postgraduate trek around the world, searching for the ultimate climb.
Her liquid-brown eyes widened when he told her about his fall at Mount Zion.
“Screwed up my rotator cuff for a while,” he said, “but physical therapy helped.”
“Do you still climb?”
“I’ve taken up kiteboarding,” he said. “Water provides a softer cushion than rock.”
“So you are still a thrill junkie.”
Before Chip could object or change the subject to her life—a far more interesting topic—their server appeared with wine and a cloth-covered basket of warm bread and then presented them each a menu. After describing tonight’s specials, he promised to return.
Having checked out the offerings online, Chip watched Lana nibble on her bottom lip as she studied her menu. Why did she appear so troubled? Didn’t she see anything she liked?
She reached for her wine and met his gaze.
After a sip, she said, “This place is awfully expensive, Chip. Since I asked you out, I have to at least pay for my share.”
“Not happening, Lana,” he said. “I asked first, I picked the place and you are my guest tonight.”
“But I know how expensive law school is,” she protested.
Chip took a swallow of his own wine. “You know I’m in law school?”
“Someone mentioned it Saturday night.”
He nodded. That made sense. But why didn’t anyone know what Lana had been up to since high school?
“Where are you enrolled?” she asked.
“University of Miami.”
Her mouth tightened. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed. “That’s where Dan got his athletic scholarship,” she murmured.
“I know.” Shit. He should have steered the subject away from his own life sooner. Now she was thinking about her dead brother.
She inhaled deeply, her full breasts rising with that motion. With a shake of her head, she lifted her wineglass and took a healthy swallow.
“You and Dan used to be best friends,” she said with a sad smile.
Chip shrugged. What a nightmare. He so did not want the specter of Daniel Lettino interfering with this chance with Lana.
“Yeah, but that was a long time ago.”
“I remember you guys had a huge fight and then hardly spoke to each other after that,” she said. “What was that about?”
How had it come to this so quickly? He had to lie to keep their reunion on life support.
“People change,” Chip said, putting regret into his tone. “Dan was fixated on football, and I had other interests besides running after a ball he’d hurled my direction.”
She nodded, seeming to accept his explanation. “He did love to play, didn’t he?”
Chip reached for his wine. Not as much as he liked getting his own way.
Their server returned to take their order. They both ordered the grilled salmon.
“Was that really all it was?” she asked. “Different interests?”
“All what was?”
“Your fallout with Dan. There wasn’t anything else involved?”
Twirling his glass by the stem, Chip eyed Lana. Why wouldn’t she let this go? He knew Dan had told her to stay away from him after the fight. Did she want to know why? That was something he couldn’t tell her. What would be the point? Dan was dead.
“What are you getting at, Lana?” Chip asked.
“What was the fight about?”
Chip leaned forward and caught her gaze. “We argued eight years ago. What does it matter now?”
“I just always wondered what happened,” she said, holding his gaze. “That’s all.”
“I don’t remember,” Chip said.
“Your greens.” The server placed an artfully arranged salad in front of each of them and then disappeared.
“The service is great here,” Lana said brightly, perhaps realizing she’d gone too far on the subject of her dead brother. She lifted her fork and speared a piece of spinach.
“Yeah, it is,” Chip muttered, remembering Carlos’s warning from Coach Robby’s retirement shindig. For Lana this evening was all about discussing her brother, dredging up the past and marinating in it. So not Chip’s idea of a good time.
Too bad. Lana was a great person. He picked up his own fork and stabbed at a tomato.
As a little girl, she’d ached over baby birds that had fallen out of their nest, had once staged an elaborate burial ceremony, insisting that he and her sister attend. Dan had laughed it off. She’d sobbed over a stray dog run over by a car. She’d even grieved when she found the carcass of a pretty orange butterfly that had died.
Lana had always wanted to rescue the world. She deserved to have a life free of the shadow of a boy who had never deserved her special kind of sweetness.
But Lana was apparently one of those people who just couldn’t get over a tragedy.
He fortunately had come to terms with the kind of person Dan had been and his untimely death a long time ago. Sure Chip was sorry about what had happened to him, but the murder had happened the summer after graduation from high school. A promising life had ended too soon, but The Chipper had definitely moved on.
He pierced some strange purple lettuce. And he would move on from not having Lana in his life. Anything with her had always been a fantasy, anyway.
LANA STARED AT CHIP, trying to read the truth behind the closed-off expression on his smooth, handsome face. His jaw was clenched. His shoulders ramrod straight. He wouldn’t meet her gaze now.
Chip was lying. No question about it. He’d fought with Danny over something serious in high school, and that something had bloodied them both, ending their friendship.
And Chip was hiding whatever they’d come to blows over.
What had it been? Had the conflict been serious enough for Chip to stab his friend to death?
Sitting in this high-end restaurant, across from a pleasant young man wearing dress pants and a blue blazer, a man she had known most of her life, Lana found that scenario difficult to buy into. She’d studied murderers, and Chip Peterson didn’t fit the profile. Not by a long shot.
Unless he was a sociopath who was able to hide his true personality. And didn’t she just decide his body language indicated he was hiding something?
“Have you decided what type of law you want to practice?” she asked after a bite of salad.
“What?” Chip startled, as if she’d brought him back from the dredges of deep thought.
“Criminal law? Civil? Maybe environmental?”
“Oh,” he said. “I’ll likely join my father’s firm and practice civil litigation.”
“Sounds pretty boring for an adrenaline junkie.”
“Is that how you think of me, Lana, as if I’m still some ten-year-old goofball?”
She grinned at him. “The image of you flying over curbs on your trick skateboard is forever etched into my brain.”
“Just what a guy loves to hear.”
“Didn’t you win some kind of competition on your board?”
“Been a while but, yeah, I used to compete in the X Games. That prize money financed my climbing travels.”
“So all that crazy practice paid off.”
He shrugged. “Enough about me. What are you doing these days?”
Here we go. But it was time.
She’d gone as far as she could without conducting an obvious interrogation, and Chip’s reaction when he learned she was a cop would also tell her a lot. Finished with her salad, Lana balanced her fork on her plate and sipped her wine, which was pretty damn good for house wine.
“You said you had to work today,” he continued. “Since this is Saturday, I guess you don’t work in an office.”
“I’m in law enforcement.”
He stared at her blankly. “Law enforcement?”
“I’m a cop.”
Naturally his eyes went wide. Of course, his jaw dropped.
“A cop?” The words exploded out of his mouth.
“Shh,” she hissed, her gaze shifting around the room at their fellow diners. “Don’t scare everybody.”
He collapsed back into his chair. “You’re a cop?” he repeated in a tone of utter disbelief.
“Yes,” she said. “A sworn law-enforcement officer with the Miami-Dade County Police Department.”
“How long have you been a cop?”
“Just over a year.”
“But I heard you went to Florida International University.”
“I did, and majored in criminal justice. I took some time off to be certain and help my sister start her business. When she didn’t need me, I entered the Miami-Dade Police Academy.” Because I quickly realized I couldn’t investigate squat without a badge.
Chip stared at her, mute and totally still.
Enjoying a tingle of satisfaction, Lana sipped her wine again. Was this mere surprise over the unusual career of a childhood friend? Or maybe she witnessed the reaction of a murderer who just realized he’d made a serious mistake.
Killers didn’t ordinarily consort with cops who could send them to prison for life.
“You appear a bit surprised,” Lana murmured.
“Yeah, I’m pretty much blown away,” Chip said.
“Why?”
He took several long swallows of ice water, emptying his glass. A server materialized and refilled it. When he departed, Chip said, “That’s not the career I expected you to pick.”
“Because I’m a woman?” she demanded.
“What? No, of course not.”
“Then why are you so surprised?”
He threw up his hands. “Because you’re so—I don’t know—nice.”
“I am not nice.”
“Yes, you are.”
Trying not to feel insulted, she glared at him. Nice? Please.
A slow smile spread across Chip’s face, crinkling his blue eyes. “Come on, Lana, are you really objecting to the fact that I think you’re a nice person?”
“Yeah.”
“Because?”
“Because I want to be badass.”
“Badass?”
“Damn right. I’m a cop.”
“Okay, then.” Chip lifted his wine in a toast. “Here’s to Lana Lettino, one badass cop.”
She clinked against his glass with hers. “Thank you. That’s much better.”
Shaking his head, obviously still in shock, he set his wine on the table. His gaze dropped to her purse on the floor. “Are you packing?”
She leaned toward him and whispered, “You mean am I carrying a weapon?”
He nodded.
“Yes, I am. It’s departmental policy.”
“I see.”
“Does it bother you that I’m a cop, Chip?” she asked softly.
He lifted his gaze to hers. Lana held her breath, waiting for his response. Would Chip admit he was uncomfortable with her profession? For sure he couldn’t admit why.
“No, it doesn’t bother me,” he said. “Your choice may not jibe with my admittedly childish image of you, but I’m confident you’re an excellent police officer, Lana. Congratulations, and good for you.”
She smiled at her old friend, an unexpected rush of pleasure surging through her. She’d forgotten what a sweetheart Chip could be—when he wanted to be.
Continuing to hold her gaze, he said, “It’s a dangerous job—even worse these days. I hope you’re careful.”
“I am,” she said.
“Good.” He leaned forward. “I have to know how your mom took the news.”
Before she could fill Chip in on her mother’s response to her chosen career, the server delivered their dinners. Sublime flavors of lemon, maple and a spice or two she didn’t recognize burst against her happy palate. Heaven. No question the chef’s rock-star reputation had been earned.
“Oh my God, this is delicious,” she told Chip, all but forgetting the purpose of their outing.
As they ate in silence for a few bites, she could tell by his pleased expression that he agreed with her five-star review.
“So, your mom?” Chip reminded her.
“My mom encouraged me to become a police officer.”
“No way,” Chip said.
Lana nodded. “Oh, yeah.” Because she hoped I’d solve Dan’s murder.
“How did Sandy take it?”
“My sister reacted about the same as you—total shock.”
Chip grinned. “Does she still follow you around everywhere?”
“I’ve been replaced by a husband and a four-year-old named Mike. I babysit whenever she’ll let me.”
“That sounds like the Lana I remember.” Chip’s intense blue gaze captured hers again. “Do you still rescue every stray animal?”
Lana shook her head, surprised at the things Chip remembered from their childhood. “As a cop, I’m more into rescuing stray humans these days.”
“Too bad,” he said. “I liked that about you.”
“Probably why you thought I was so damn nice,” she said.
“Did you always want to join the police?” he asked. “We’ve known each other a long time and I don’t remember you ever saying anything.”
“Since I was eighteen,” she said.
“So in high school?”
“The day I enrolled at FIU, I picked my major.”
Chip blinked. “Pretty focused for that age. I changed mine four times.”
Lana swallowed the last of her wine. “Events occurred that focused me.”
“Events,” he murmured, as if he finally understood something. “You mean Dan’s death.”
“More the fact that the police never arrested anyone.”
“You mean you—”
“I became a cop so I could solve Dan’s murder.”