Page 41 of Silk and Steel

“I look ridiculous,” he says as the host leads us to Ryker and Avery’s table.

“No, you look…great.” It’s hard to talk while stifling giggles.

“Laugh it up, why don’t you?”

“I thought that’s what I was doing.”

We’re led into a small, intimate dining area with only one table occupied. I remember seeing Ryker at the office, but he sure looks different from his wife. Ryker is tall, dark, and muscled. Avery has the appearance of an angel, with pale blondehair and soft blue eyes. It’s hard to believe they’re a couple, except for the obvious chemistry between them.

They’re leaning close and whispering to each other, knowing smiles on their lips, when we arrive. We’re almost at the table before they notice us.

“Oh hey.”

Ryker and Avery get up. Cole goes for a handshake, but they both hug him instead. Cole’s comical anxiety about the PDA makes me hide a smile behind my hand.

“Ryker, Avery,” Cole says, gesturing to me. “This is my…client, Emory.”

There is just the slightest hesitation before he says client. What was he about to say? I’m dying to know. I should be worried about staying alive, and catching Julian. But for some reason I really want to know how Cole feels about me.

“Nice to meet you,” Ryker says, shaking my hand. Avery gives me a warm smile and shakes my hand as well.

“I love your hair,” she says. “Donatello?”

“Close, same salon. Enrique.”

She chuckles and I realize I want to be friends.

We sit down and make small talk about the menu and traffic.

“How’s the baby?” Cole asks.

“A real handful, but we wouldn’t trade being a parent for all the world,” Ryker says with a laugh. “You just have to remember the lumpy rule.”

“The lumpy rule?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Ryker says. “If the baby is crying, you feel the diaper and if it’s lumpy you say ‘honey, I’m going to the garage, I think the baby is crying.’ Works like a charm.”

Avery rolls her eyes.

“He talks tough, but Ryker would do anything for our kid.”

After we put in our orders, Cole cuts to the chase.

“If you were an American fugitive fleeing to Colombia, where would you go?”

Both Ryker and Avery flinch, then exchange glances. From what I’ve heard, things got pretty rough down in Colombia.

“Bogota,” Ryker says.

“He’s right,” Avery says with a nod. “Medellin is too high profile, and there aren’t as many English speakers in Salento. Bogota would be perfect, as long as your fugitive has money.”

“Oh, he’s got money,” I say.

“Colombia doesn’t have an extradition policy with the USA,” Ryker adds. “He could walk the streets with impunity.”

The conversation diverts to other, lighter things. I’m grateful on one level, but on another, I feel like I can’t really enjoy the dinner or the company, as delightful as Avery and Ryker are.

All I can think of is that I need to do what Julian tells me and keep my family safe.

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