Page 25 of Every Good Thing
“We rarely have problems here,” she says. “But that’s because we’re prepared for them. Complacency is the worst mistake an organization can make.”
“Agreed.”
“Should you take the position, you will be expected to hire and spend as needed. You’ll have a handsome budget.” She motions me into a large office with two walls of windows overlooking gardens and a koi pond. “This is where you’ll work when you aren’t out with your team.”
It is spacious and minimally decorated—just as I’d prefer it.
We enter her father’s suite, one floor up and down the hall. When he sees me, Mr. Riley pops from his desk chair and crosses the room for a warm embrace. I don’t mind. I’ve always had the greatest respect for John Riley, and when I was with Lauren, he was a second father to me.
“Ben, it’s been too long, son.” His thick arms tighten around me. “I’ve missed you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You look well,” he says, giving me a once-over. He scratches his shaved chin. “Staying fit, I see. How old are you now?”
“Forty-two, sir.”
“Hell, wish I looked that good at forty-two. Come in. What can I get you to drink?”
“Water is fine, thank you, sir.” Before joining him and Lauren in the sitting area, I admire a wall of pictures. Younger Mr. Riley stands outside of the Blackhawk helicopter he once piloted. His sister, Miranda, poses from a Coast Guard helicopter. Their father stands by the guns of an aircraft carrier. Military service is a tradition in this family, and I followed in those honorable footsteps.
But maintaining my composure proves difficult when I find my formal Army Ranger portrait hanging next to theirs. The picture was taken after Ranger school, and I can’t help but remember how accomplished I felt, donning my tan beret and the Airborne patch on my arm. I was hopeful then, unscarred, and committed to two things—the army and Lauren.
It’s strange seeing my portrait with theirs, though. A thin line of dust along the frame’s top edge assures me this wasn’t hung in preparation for this meeting. It’s been here.
John puts his heavy arm around my shoulders again. “Things happened—I understand. But I never stopped considering you family, Ben. Thank you for your service.”
My stone-like demeanor cracks as our former connection returns. We were family once. His war stories, combined with the distinguished and admirable man he is, led me to consider the military in the first place.
“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Riley.”
“Call me John,” he says, slapping my back. “Come. Sit.”
He directs me to the plush leather chairs, where Lauren occupies the long couch opposite. I sit across from her, looking away as she crosses her legs and tugs her skirt down around her thighs. She’s always been self-conscious about showing too much skin—a sweet quality, I used to think.
John rattles instructions to his assistant before sitting next to his daughter.
His determined brown eyes lock on mine. “So, has Lauren dazzled you into signing yet?”
“No, sir. I don’t make snap decisions.”
“Of course not. You’re a smart man.”
He updates me on their family and asks about mine, condensing twelve years into twenty minutes. My phone vibrates repeatedly in my jacket pocket, but it’d be rude to take it out. Not wanting to offend John, I ignore the faint buzzing and soon take my jacket off and drape it over the couch beside me.
He asks about my injuries, but in a way that I don’t mind, before commending me on my excellent reputation with the police department. “You’ve always had a heart for service.”
“A mission you inspired, sir. I mean, John.”
“I can’t take credit. When I remember the last time I saw you at Walter Reed…” His head shakes, and he looks away as if overcome. “Anyway, your recovery has been impressive. Not many soldiers bounce back like you have, though I understand there are still some repercussions.”
“My hearing. Yes, sir.”
For the first time during our conversation, he glances at Lauren. “Did you discuss that part?”
“Not yet.”
“We take care of our wounded vets at Riley Trust,” he says. “As part of your package, we’ll supplement your medical costs. I hear you’re considering cochlear implants. With us, you won’t have to settle for standard-issue care. You can get the Rolls Royce of implants if that’s what you want.”
