“Not a problem.”
Rich signaled to the waitress, asked her for a chair, then ordered an Anchor Steam and pulled pork with plantains.
Claire said, “Richie, you’re looking pale, buddy. You sure you’re okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” he said. “Here’s the thing, Claire. And I really want you to be honest. Cindy and I are engaged. I proposed, she said yes, jumped into my arms. We moved in together and now, a year later, no wedding date. She says, ‘What’s the rush?’”
Cindy said, “Rich. Not here.”
“I’m taking this rare opportunity,” he said, “to get advice from our friends. They know us. Let me talk, Cindy.”
“You’re being ridiculous and you’re embarrassing me. But I guess you know that.”
“When I actually see her,” Rich said to Claire and Yuki, as if Cindy hadn’t spoken, “I want to cook dinner with her, watch a movie. But she says, ‘Not now, hon, I’m writing.’ She writes in her head, you understand,” Rich went on. “Then, when she starts typing, she might as well be in an under-ground bunker.”
The waitress put Richie’s beer down on the table, then dragged a chair to the head of the booth. She sat in it and said to Rich, “Hi—I’m Lorraine.”
“I’m Rich Conklin. Cindy’s fiancé. Nice to meet you.”
“We just ran out of the pork,” Lorraine said. “Want to try the pulled chicken?”
“Okay. Fine.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Yuki said, “We’re all obsessed with our careers, Richie. Women have to work harder—”
“Do you talk to Brady?” Rich asked Yuki.
“Talk to him? Sure.”
“You go out to dinner with him?”
“Uh-huh. Couple times a week.”
Cindy looked up as Mackie Morales came back from the ladies’ room. She looked cute, seemed smart, had been working in the squad room for the last couple of months. Richie thought she was a good assistant. Very helpful.
Mackie tapped Rich on the shoulder, said, “I believe you’re in my seat, Inspector.”
Rich jumped up and said, “Morales. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Don’t let me interrupt.”
Morales took the chair at the head of the table and sipped from her mug. Cindy thought that Rich didn’t look so pale anymore. In fact, his ears were red.
“So I feel very bad,” Rich continued. “Cindy won’t talk about what’s bothering her. This is a bad situation for both of us. What do you think we should do?”
Cindy felt like something had exploded between her ears. She couldn’t take it for another second. It was outrageous. He was outrageous.
“Rich, are you high?” she shouted. “I make breakfast for you every morning. I do your laundry. I have to work all hours. You do, too. You do the same thing as I do.”
“I need more than breakfast,” he said. “I need devotion.”
“Oops,” said Morales. “Well, my babysitter likes to go home about now. Thanks, everyone,” she said, putting a twenty on the table and grabbing her purse from the floor. “This was fun.”
“Yeah, me, too,” said Yuki. “Well, I don’t have a babysitter, but I’ve got a conference call. Play nice, you two.”
She kissed Claire’s cheek, did the same but more awkwardly with Cindy, who had gone stiff and was staring at Richie as if her eyes were the business end of double-barreled shotgun.