Burn Before Reading(16)

"Um, I'll just park normally, thanks."

I parked and rounded the restaurant, which looked like a big hunk of black glass, shiny and smooth and impossible to see into. Beautiful candlelit tables waited outside on the patio, though with the chilly temperature most people were inside. A rush of warm rosemary-scented air greeted me as I opened the door, the crackle of real wood fires along the wall mingling with the low violin music. A hostess greeted me, and I asked for Blackthorn's table. She ushered me past rows of tables brimming with couples in expensive-looking clothes, tucking into plates of lobster pasta and glasses of thick red wine, the sort of wine the whole bottle gets brought to the table for. I tried not to sweat or meet their eyes when they glanced up at me, but I definitely noticed one lady laughing behind her hand at my shoes. I fought the embarrassed blush on my face.

The hostess finally stopped at a booth in the far back, where Mr. Blackthorn sat. He looked every bit like he belonged in The Godfather, with his crisp tux and single shot of whiskey. He toasted to me as I took off my coat and sat down opposite him.

"There you are, Miss Cruz." He smiled at me. "Is there anything you'd like to drink?"

"Water would be fine, thanks."

"Come now - an iced tea would be much tastier. Perhaps a soda? My sons prefer the wine here - I assure you, it's quite good."

I gnawed my lip, cutting off my words of 'underage drinking is illegal' or something equally juvenile-sounding. "Just water."

"Very well." He nodded, and the hostess silently disappeared and reappeared with a glass for me. When it was poured, she left, and Mr. Blackthorn cleared his throat.

"Do you find this place to your liking?"

I looked around. "Sure. It's cozy. Lots of pretty people. One of them even laughed at me. Well, I'm pretty sure she was laughing. Otherwise she must've been choking on pasta. But there aren't any ambulances or shrieks of horror, so I figure I'm definitely the source of her amusement. Always happy to help lighten the mood."

Mr. Blackthorn looked shocked. "Laughed at you? Which one? Can you point me to her?"

"Oh no, I'd rather not cause a problem -"

"Marie," Mr. Blackthorn said. The hostess reappeared, seemingly from nowhere. "Kindly escort whichever of your guests laughed at my friend here off the premises."

The hostess smiled. "Of course, Mr. Blackthorn."

Horrified, I watched as she walked over to the woman's table and said something. The woman started to argue, and her date slammed his fist on the table. This caused two men in starched shirts and jackets I hadn't seen before come over, so tall they blocked out the light and sent long shadows over the table. One of the men said something, then pointed to our table. The woman and her date looked to us, and Mr. Blackthorn smiled and gave them a small nod. The couple's faces went ashen, and they grabbed their things and strode out as quickly as they could.

When they were gone, Mr. Blackthorn sighed. "That's much better."

"I didn't -" I swallowed. "I didn't mean to -"

"You did nothing wrong, Miss Cruz. It was entirely them. I despise people who can't maintain good manners when in public. And to laugh at my own dinner guest! Such arrogance stifles my appetite." He opened the menu lying at his fingers and passed it to me. "You must be hungry. Please, take a look. I highly recommend the fettucine al pepperoncini and the heirloom bolognese."

Still feeling queasy, my eyes roamed the menu and practically bugged out. Everything on the menu was upwards of forty dollars! I desperately flipped through for a cheap salad, but even that was a good thirty bucks! The wines - a hundred dollars a bottle! I swallowed hard.

"I think I'm alright with water for now."

"Oh, please. I insist. It's my treat. I know how much you high schoolers can eat - the answer is 'endlessly'."

"I'm okay, really. I ate before I came."

Mr. Blackthorn fixed me with a stare. It was more like Burn's unaccusing stare than Wolf's self-righteous one. But then he flipped on a smile, so fast and bright and sincere-looking. It was the same way Fitz turned on his smile, too.

"We will need to improve your lying skills, Miss Cruz, if we are going to work together," He said. I opened my mouth to argue, but he bulldozed forward. "Work together on what, you ask? My sons, of course."

Mr. Blackthorn tucked a napkin in his lap and took another sip of whiskey. I was about to ask another question, but held myself back. He was a Blackthorn - he'd tell me only when he was good and ready. The waiter came to our table, took his order, and left, and that's when Mr. Blackthorn continued.

"As you may know, my sons are quite...privileged. I worry as a father that privilege may be leading them down a path of wanton vice."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at, Mr. Blackthorn." I tried.

"Come now," he smiled. "We both know Lakecrest is filled with young adults, most of them with easy access to wealth. Wealth can buy all sorts of sordid things, Miss Cruz. Clothes, cars, cellphones...drugs."

He said the last word lightly, though it carried weight.

"You want me to, uh, spy on them?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"Spy is such a crude word," Mr. Blackthorn sighed. "I'd prefer the term 'befriend' them. You are their peer, after all."