“How the hell do you find anything out here?” William looked around, his lip curling in dissatisfaction. “All I see are plants; it’s like some...” he searched for a comparison, “like elves trying to go commercial.” He was obviously not satisfied with that analogy but Dani nodded solemnly, as if she agreed.
Luke said nothing. He was still looking out the window, trying to pretend this entire nightmare wasn’t happening. Not only did he not get time alone with Dani, despite the five-dollar investment, but to have his father suddenly show up, now of all times, was...
Is there a word to suggest you’re disappointed that someone isn’t dead? Is there a word stronger than “hate”?
Problem was, Luke didn’t hate his father, not anymore. There was a time when hate would have been the perfect description, but that was years ago. It was also the last time he’d shown up in Luke’s life.
They piled out of the limo onto the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Dani chatted with Elaina, her hand on her arm. Making sure she was okay, Luke realized. His mother had no idea about the USB stick, yet she hadn’t said anything. Just pretended to disappear inside the limo, like he pretty much had. Why did it surprise him that his pretend fiancée could be sensitive like that? Of course, she would have realized that going out to dinner with your ex-husband might be a stressful event. Something that maybe her son should have realized.
Not liking himself very much right now, Luke didn’t wait for the driver. He got out on the driver’s side and left the door open. It was petty, making the driver go around just to spite the man’s employer, but Luke wasn’t feeling particularly generous right now.
“They’re closed,” Edwin announced, pointing to the sign on the door. William’s driver excused himself as he snuck between them. He knocked once and waved to someone inside. The door unlocked and a gentleman in black pants, white shirt, bow tie, and a crisp clean apron opened the door. He bowed low and swept his arm out in a flourish.
“Ladies,” he said in a rumbling basso voice, “gentlemen, please enter. Your table’s prepared.”
Of course, it is.
Why his father couldn’t do anything, well, normal was beyond him. Even celebrities ate in restaurants without closing them to the public first. This was just for show. The question was, who was his father trying to impress? Him? His ex-wife? Whoever he thought had that damn USB stick?
Luke saw Dani look up at him, but he could only shrug. What was there to say? This was his father’s show, and whatever he’d arranged they were going to have to see it through.
As they filed into the restaurant only William looked at ease, though Elaina did roll her eyes from time to time at the ostentatiousness of the place. It was, in essence, a steak house. It was a decent place, but the kind frequented by average nine-to-five workers looking for a nice meal out.
Under William’s influence, it became a palace. The rows and rows of tables had been stripped and pushed back to the sides of the room, entirely out of the way. Only one long table with six places lay within the circle of the heart of the dining area. This was in the middle of the restaurant, in space you had to step down two steps to get to, under a buffalo head and several pieces of what someone considered Texas memorabilia, though what washboards and spittoons had to do with steak, Luke couldn’t guess. The table was draped with a cloth so smooth and soft, it had to be an expensive linen. Even Dani, whose childhood had been spent in the lap of luxury, was impressed. Luke could see it in her expression and in the way she stroked the cloth. For a moment his heart stopped, and he found himself wanting to buy her every fine fabric in the world, just to create that look of soft bliss upon her face. He resolved then and there to make some calls when this was over. To treat her to cashmere and silk.
The group stood uncertainly around the table, exchanging comments in low murmurs. The place settings were a showpiece from a Thanksgiving photo spread. This was the sort of china that might induce a person to buy a house, just to have a decent place to show off the plates. It was probably some sort of special make, but Luke wasn’t familiar enough with the different types to judge it. The plates seemed thin, and held no pattern save a band of gold around the edges. He had no doubt that gold was real. Knowing his father, it was easy to take that leap in logic and assume that the plates cost more than the steak the restaurant would normally serve upon it.
The goblets were crystal, the napkins too luxurious to use, and the cutlery was probably real silver. It was just his father’s way. The whole experience was surreal, and Luke had to look around to make sure they were still in the steakhouse. Sure enough, crossed branding irons graced the wall over the booths, and cheerful signs about not shooting the bartender proclaimed that, indeed, they were still in someone’s idea of the Old West. Looking between broken saddles and a table set for royalty was like walking into an empty warehouse and finding Versailles.
William, ever the expansive host, entreated his guests to sit. He took the chair on the end, the head of the table. Edwin held a chair for Elaina and sat beside her; Luke did the same with Dani, though he disliked leaving her at his father’s left, though Luke supposed that having that much distance between himself and the old man was probably safest for all involved. This left Marcus to sit at the foot of the table.
“I wasn’t sure if your man was going to join us or stand guard,” William admitted, flashing a winning smile at Marcus. “I see I picked the correct one.”
“Marcus is...” Edwin said slowly, “... not exactly in my employ at the moment. My funds are somewhat insolvent until certain other matters are resolved. He’s here in his own capacity in the meantime.”
Dani glanced at Marcus, her eyebrows raised. “Friendship is important, too,” she said, and bestowed a bright smile on the former guard.
Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as if he would have been more comfortable standing guard after all. Knowing what he did about the man, even if they hadn’t truly had a real conversation, Luke didn’t doubt it was true. Hell, even he would prefer guard duty to eating with the old man.
“It doesn’t change the essence of what I do,” Marcus said finally, opening his napkin and placing it on his lap. “I am still here to assure Mr. Rhinehart is able to complete his business.”
“Ah yes.” William smiled and nodded. “Business. His... business, and that is what we need to discuss, is it not? Mr. Rhinehart’s business? Who runs Markland Enterprises? You’ve stepped down, your son and presumptive heir is currently... undergoing treatment, and your biggest investor seems to have fallen to his death from a helicopter while eluding police. That can’t be easy on a company.”
“We’re...” Edwin took a deep breath, his eyes hard. Calculating. His hands clenched and unclenched. Luke reflected how it was a wonder anyone had entrusted Edwin with a steak knife. “... restructuring.”
“I imagi—”
“William!” Elaina hissed.