I headed back to our table. Ronan had chosen his career, just as I’d known he would. Just as I’d tried to make it easier for him by pushing him away first. I respected his choice. Understood it. Yet that didn’t stop the dull ache spreading through my chest.
“There you are! Girl, I thought maybe you fell in or something.” Talia’s voice broke through my thoughts as I appeared at the table.
I forced a smile. “Sorry, got caught up at the bar. I just remembered I wanted to ask you about that community literacy program you mentioned last week. The one working with kids in the West End?” I commented, deliberately changing the subject as I slid back into our booth.
Talia’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she went with it, launching into details about the program and the grant they were applying for. I nodded in all the right places, asked appropriate follow-up questions, played my part perfectly while another part of me silently mourned something that had barely begun.
The distance between Ronan and me wasn’t punishment; it was responsibility. I’d known from the beginning that a relationship between Birmingham’s chief of police was impossible. I’d known it even while in his sheets at that lake cabin, even while telling myself we could find some way to navigate the contradictions.
Reality had reasserted itself, as it always did. He had chosen his path, and I had chosen mine. All that remained was to keep walking them, separately, as we always had before a moment of darkness and tear gas had briefly, impossibly, brought us together.
After we paid our bills, I drained the last of my drink and checked my watch. Talia took the hint, grabbing her purse and sliding out of the booth. We weaved through the Thursday night crowd toward the exit, my mind already on the lecture notes waiting for me. Just as we reached the door, a voice cut through the ambient chatter of the bar.
“Dr. Price? Thought that was you.”
I froze, then turned slowly, composing my face into a polite smile. Captain Todd Jordan stood a few feet away, one hand resting casually on the woman’s lower back.
“Captain Jordan, nice to see you again.” I nodded, forcing myself to meet his eyes directly. We’d had a perfectly appropriate conversation at the holding facility that day.
He gestured to the woman beside him. “This is my wife, Sandra. Sandra, this is Dr. Nia Price from Birmingham State. And . . .” He looked questioningly at Talia.
“Talia Greene. I work with the community arts coalition downtown,” she supplied.
“The mural project on Jefferson Avenue? That’s your group? It’s beautiful work,” Sandra asked, her smile warm and genuine.
Talia beamed. “Thank you. We have three more planned for this summer, assuming we can secure the funding.”
I stood stiffly, hyperaware of every muscle in my body, carefully controlling my expression as I scanned for the fastestexit. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. I didn’t feel like being social. I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and go to bed.
“You ladies headed out? Let me get the door for you,” Jordan asked, his tone casual.
“Actually, before you go, I wanted to mention the department’s charity gala next month. It’s for the youth mentorship program connecting officers with kids in underserved communities,” Sandra interjected, touching her husband’s arm lightly. I shifted my weight, preparing for a graceful exit.
“Oh, do you have a card or flyer?” Talia asked.
“Yes, we’d love to have you both there. It’s a good cause, and the networking opportunities are excellent, ladies, if you know what I mean,” she added, reaching into her bag for a card.
Was this an innocent matchmaking attempt?
“That’s very kind. Unfortunately, I have a lecture scheduled in Atlanta that weekend. Still, I’m sure it will be a successful event.” I managed.
“I might make it,” Talia said, either oblivious to my discomfort or deliberately ignoring it.
“We won’t keep you ladies any longer,” he finally said, reaching past us to push the door open. The cool night air rushed in, a blessed relief from the stuffy bar and this increasingly uncomfortable conversation.
Sandra said, squeezing my arm gently as we passed, “It was lovely meeting you both. I hope your lecture goes well, Dr. Price.”
“Thank you,” I replied. Outside, the door swung shut behind us. Talia waited until we’d walked half a block toward the parking garage before turning to me.
“Okay, what the hell was that? You looked like you were being interrogated rather than invited to a charity event. Anddon’t tell me it’s nothing, because I’ve known you too long for that bullshit.”
I sighed, the night air cooling the heat that had risen to my face during that encounter. “It’s complicated, T.”
She stopped walking, turning to face me directly under the yellow glow of a streetlight. “Uncomplicate it for me. Does this have something to do with Chief Fine-As-Hell Banks?”
“Can we not do this right now? I’m tired.”
“Nia. Talk to me. You haven’t been yourself since the protest. What’s going on? For real.”
