'Lieutenant, actually.'
'What kind of police work do you do?'
'Uh, violent crimes.'
'Oh. Interesting, I bet. Are you undercover now?'
'Excuse me?'
'You know. Those old clothes. I haven't seen an Izod in years.'
Ouch. 'Oh, it's laundry day. Everything I own is at the dry cleaners, with the exception of this ensemble. Believe it or not, these jeans are Bon Jour.'
'Really?'
I showed him the stitching on the pocket, regretting it immediately. Three minutes into the date and I'm showing the guy my ass.
'This is great.' He was grinning.
'That I'm twenty years behind in fashion?'
'That you're confident enough to come as you are. The last woman I went out with wore way too much hair spray and perfume. When she lit a cigarette I ducked for cover because I thought she was going to ignite.'
I laughed.
'I knew a guy like that. I swore he used to bathe in Aqua Velva. When we slow danced I got high off the fumes.'
He had a pleasant, easy smile, and deep-set wrinkles when he crinkled his eyes. Definitely cute; even better than his picture.
'So why did you become a cop?'
'Because I like...' I searched for the word. '...fairness. My mom was a cop. She always did the right thing. That's what I want to do.'
'You find fulfillment in fairness?'
My life had never been so succinctly defined before. 'I like justice, and I like doing my part to make sure things turn out the right way. How about you?'
'I'm not that deep. I'm fulfilled by simple pleasures. Music. Food. Good conversation. Right here, right now, I'm happy.'
He leaned in closer. Was he actually flirting? I felt the familiar schoolgirl tingle in the pit of my belly, and I realized I was interested in him. I leaned closer too.
'I wish I was like that. More carefree.'
'Anyone can be. People aren't carved out of marble. We're all works in progress. The trick is to define ourselves, rather than let outside influences define us.'
That's when I noticed my ex-boyfriend Don walking over to us. Dragging him along was a woman so pumped up with muscles, it looked like someone had stuck a tube up her rear and inflated her. Roxy, his personal trainer and new roommate.
'Speaking of outside influences,' I said to Latham, 'there's about to be a scene.'
The couple stood next to our table, Roxy big and blonde and angry, Don embarrassed and maybe a bit scared.
'You're right, Donnie, she is old.' She snorted through her large nostrils, giving me a blast of warm air.
Four million people and two thousand restaurants in Chicago...
'Take it somewhere else, Roxy. We're busy.'
'Roxy...' Don tugged on her well-defined arm. 'Just leave it alone.'
But Roxy wasn't having any. Perhaps the steroids had gotten to her brain. She puffed up her chest and struck an impressive pose.
'You got a lot of nerve, tossing his stuff in the hall like that. Maybe you'd like to show me some of that nerve outside.'
Latham frowned. 'I don't think --'
'It's okay, Latham.' I patted his arm. 'I can handle this one.'
I stood up, giving Roxy cop eyes. I had to look up to do so. She had a few inches on me.
'Showing off for your boyfriend isn't worth getting arrested, Roxy. Take off.'
Don tried to pull her away, but she was practically his size.
'You scared, bitch? Scared I'll beat your ass in front of your pimp here?'
I smiled and pointed at her chin. 'You missed a spot shaving.'
She swung at me, but I was ready. In a single, efficient move I slipped the punch and came up behind her. Using her momentum I got her wrist in a hammerlock and shoved her on top of the table, pinning her down with my weight.
'Assaulting a cop is a felony, Roxy. Three to five, hard. If this big show of testosterone is simply because you
