“I guess by now the department has told you who that thug at the warehouse was, huh?”
If Gage was caught off guard by the sudden shift in subject, he didn’t let on. In fact, his expression didn’t change at all as he took his eyes off the road to check the rearview mirror. “Actually, I didn’t know who he was until I got home and saw it on the news.”
She turned a little in her seat so she could see his face better. “Seriously? Isn’t the fact that a member of your team just killed the son of the most powerful criminal in the northern hemisphere something your boss thought he should mention?”
“The department doesn’t work like that,” he said. “Internal Affairs talked to Xander and me, but their only concern is whether it was a clean shooting or not. They rarely tell us the name of the suspect in a case like that. The shrinks think it makes it too personal for the officer and can make the post-shooting counseling session even harder.”
Huh. Considering their hard-core image, she hadn’t thought an officer in SWAT would even attend counseling like that.
“That’s all fine and good if Xander shot your average guy,” she agreed. “But this was Ryan Hardy, the son of a man most people consider pretty damn scary. Word on the street is that he’s already blaming your SWAT team for assassinating his son.”
He shrugged. “People always stir up crap when things like this happen, but they get over it—or they don’t. What’s Hardy going to do, take out a contract on the entire SWAT team?”
“That’s exactly what I would think he’s going to do.”
Gage didn’t act as if he thought that was very likely, but she noticed he spent a lot of time checking his mirrors. Dallas traffic was bad, but not that bad.
Mac opened her mouth to call him on it, but Gage asked how long she’d lived in Dallas. Guess that was his subtle way of saying he didn’t want to talk about Hardy. Okay, she wouldn’t push. For now.
“Since graduating from college,” she said in answer to his question. “I interned at theDallasDailySunin the summers and loved it so much, I couldn’t turn them down when they offered me a full-time job.”
Gage gave her a sidelong glance. “Being a journalist is in your blood, I guess.”
She laughed. “I guess. I have my parents to thank for that. They’re both English professors at A&M. According to them, I started writing when I was four and haven’t stopped. I think they thought I’d follow in their footsteps, but I always wanted to be a journalist. What about you? Are you originally from Dallas?”
“San Antonio.”
She would have asked more, but they’d already pulled up in front of the restaurant. A valet immediately came around to take Gage’s keys while another opened her door. The rest of the conversation would have to wait until they were seated.
There was a line of people waiting for tables, so Mac was surprised when the hostess seated them right away. But while the chef might have promised Gage a table for two any time he requested it, the Chambre Francaise was packed seven days a week. So their booth ended up being very small and out of the way. It wasn’t exactly in the kitchen, but close. Mac didn’t mind, though. The short, rotund chef, however, was clearly embarrassed he only had the small booth to offer them.
“Don’t worry about it, Emile.” Gage stood and took the shorter man’s hand in one of his, clapping him on the back with the other. “The way I see it, this is the best seat in the house. I couldn’t ask for a better place to have a nice, quiet dinner, which is exactly what we’re looking for. How’s Kyle getting along?”
Emile beamed as only a proud parent could. “He is doing very well. Good grades, and more importantly, he’s passionate about what he’s learning. And once again, I owe that all to you.”
“It was all Kyle,” Gage insisted.
Emile looked as if he would have argued, but Gage introduced Mac before the man could say anything else.
The round chef took her hand in both of his with a smile. “A pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle.” He gave Gage an approving nod. “Finally, you bring a beautiful woman with you to dinner. I was starting to worry that with your job, you would be alone forever.”
Mac laughed. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Gage was actually blushing.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Emile,” he said as he slid into the booth. “But this is a working dinner.”
The chef smiled. “It has been my experience that the best relationships start in the workplace. Look at me and my Fifi.” His smile broadened. “Okay, okay. I won’t embarrass you further, my friend. I will go back to the kitchen. Enjoy your dinner.”
Gage shook his head as Emile disappeared through the door that led to the kitchen. “Sorry about that. He can be a bit outrageous at times. Goes along with being a head chef, I guess.”
“Because he thought we were here on a date? I would have thought the same thing in his shoes, so no, I’m not embarrassed.” She looked around. The brocade wallpaper, gold accents, and crystal chandeliers were even more elegant than she remembered. “Do you eat here often?”
He shook his head. “About once a month. Mostly to make Emile happy. He worries I don’t have enough fat in my diet.”
Mac thought about how Gage looked in his uniform pants and tight T-shirt. Emile was probably right. “Yeah, I could see why he might think that.” She picked up her glass of water and took a sip. “So, what kind of favor did you do for him?”
Gage shrugged. “His son Kyle got involved in some gang stuff. Nothing too serious, but the kid was definitely heading down the wrong path. The other guys on the team and I got him out and back on the straight and narrow. Once he figured out it was okay for a man to be a pastry chef, he decided to go to culinary school. I didn’t really do much except give him a little advice.”
She waited until the waiter who’d appeared to pour glasses of white wine for both of them left. “Something tells me you’re downplaying your part. The head chef of one of the best restaurants in Dallas doesn’t offer a reserved table for life to someone who just gave some advice to his son.”
