by Jenna Bernel
"Eli, you are one of the few people in the world I trust, so if you find any reason for me not to believe a word out of Alec's mouth, I promise I won't question it for a minute. I just like the idea of a new, kinder vampire, and I hope Alec is telling the truth." I said with a nod, turning my attention back to the vanity. I picked up my curling iron to fix a few flattened out areas, when Eli appeared behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.
"That means a lot to me Dani, and believe me, I want nothing more than to discover that Alec is telling you the truth. Think of what this could mean! If there are other vampires out there with the Gift of human compassion, we wouldn't just be a team of two anymore, we'd be a revolution." I nodded, still in awe of it all, and Eli squeezed my shoulders with a smile.
"I like our little team of two." I looked at him in the mirror and pouted my lips and he smiled.
"Me too, Dani. Remember, forever grateful," he said sweetly, before dropping his hands.
"You should stop by my apartment after your shift tonight and help me go through some of this research on vamp Gifts," Eli suggested, since the restaurant was so close to his place.
"Definitely, I'll be there," I said, smiling into the mirror. He walked over to the balcony to leave, but turned to face me, halfway out the door.
"So… Kate left her number on her history paper. Should I take that as a hint?" Of course he waited to mention that just as he was leaving because it was exactly what I would do to him.
"Eli, be careful. She may be eighteen, but she's still a student," I warned. His teacher role was sure to become a distant memory if they were even seen alone together.
"I'm only twenty and not really a teacher," he said defensively, like that made it okay.
"Five hundred and twenty," I corrected him with a bratty smile, and he gave me the finger as he turned to exit. I couldn't help laughing. Was that like his official goodbye wave to me now, or what?
I quickly finished with the curling iron and got up to go dig in my closet for something to wear that met the “black and elegant” dress code requirements of the restaurant. I began to sift through the racks when I came across the black, silk top I wore for my last weekend at The Basement. When I took it off the hanger, I saw a faint stain of blood from when Henry bit me which was not quite washed out. A well of emotion punched my stomach when I thought of the beep on the monitor as his heart came back to life. For a year, that was my only focus: bringing vampires back to life.
Now everything felt like such a mess. I didn't know if I'd ever have the chance to reunite a family again. The thought of all the lost and presumed dead runaways out there gnawed at me. They didn't really want to leave home, but once turned, they forgot to even care about their former lives. To the distraught parents who stayed up night after night, wondering what happened to their happy kid, I wanted to tell them they did nothing wrong, that their teenager was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that I could bring them back. It felt like even if my own family could never be reunited, at least a piece of me could live vicariously through the ones I managed to bring back together.
But I couldn't do that anymore. With Stella plotting my death, my whole life's mission came to a jolting stop. I knew that someday I could be caught, but I didn't think that it would be so soon. There were so many more out there I could help. I swallowed down the lump in my throat with a little prayer that someday I'd have the chance to meet the life-affirming eyes and vibrant beating heart of number twenty-four. I put the blouse back on the hanger, unable to force myself to throw it away. It might very likely to be the last trace of evidence I'd ever have that I did something meaningful with my life and my extraordinary Gifts that, for some reason, were bestowed upon me. I wondered if I ever had a choice, or if Alec was right, and nothing about my life was a coincidence.
Chapter 15: Charmed, I'm Sure
Fred dropped me off in front of the restaurant, and I walked in with trepidation because my dad and I hadn't talked since our little blow-up fight earlier in the week. I was too stressed out to deal with family tension tonight on top of everything else, and I just wanted to barrel through this as quickly as possible. I opened the frosted glass door with our trademark etched in the center, and breezed past the coat check area. I did have one option: to take the flight of stairs up to the dining room or the elevator. I chose the stairs. I was greeted with a smile by Mary, the longtime hostess, and I gave her a friendly hello before I made my way through the dining room to the kitchen.
The restaurant was designed to go with the vibe of the city, and had contemporary décor mixed with industrial touches like an exposed brick wall and tall, steel-beamed ceiling. Even though it felt modern, I liked that the space still retained a rustic coziness. It was rather welcoming with two fireplaces, warm, wood-tone accents, and lots of fresh flowers, but they were never too much to overpower the enticing smells drifting from the kitchen. I pushed through the swinging door to find Will busy at work with the sounds of hissing steam, bubbling pots and chopping knives swirling around me.
"Hey, look who finally showed up," Will said jokingly since I was right on time. He was looking over the expeditor’s shoulder and pointed out a few details on the ticket. He looked like a totally different person in the kitchen, and I actually felt a tug of pride as I watched this responsible, body-snatched version of my big brother commanding the hectic scene. His light brown hair was neatly combed, his face was clean shaven, and there was a professional confidence about him in his crisp, white chef's jacket with our family name, "Madison's" embroidered as the logo.
"What can I help with?" I asked, smoothing out my black pencil skirt.
"I only worry about the kitchen. Go find Dad if you're not going to grab a knife," Will answered, only half paying attention to me since he was completely swamped. I backed out of the kitchen, eager to get out of his knife-wielding way. I moved down the hall and hooked my purse in the armoire before seeking out my dad.
The back of the restaurant houses the private chef’s table, and I was almost breathless when I entered the room, forgetting how beautiful it was back there at sunset. The city lights come alive and bounce off the reflective pool of Lake Michigan as the sun begins its descent, bringing a shimmering rainbow into the intimate space as the warm oranges and reds pass through delicate crystal glasses on the shelves. The long, family-style table is a dark, distressed wood, but the décor is fresh, with colors reflecting from the exquisite glass-blown pendants, imported from Venice, dangling above. The table was full of men in suits and women in cocktail dresses as the wine flowed, along with the laughter and camaraderie. Two balding heads parted, just enough for Bill to see me standing at the entry.
"There she is. Daniella? Come over here. I want everyone to meet my beautiful daughter," Bill said buoyantly, raising his glass as if my presence was cause for a toast. Oh I get it, at home I'm his "little jail bird," but in front of his colleagues, I’m his "beautiful daughter." I didn't know I was getting dinner and a show tonight. I hesitantly walked around the table to his side, and he stood up from his seat, kissing my cheek, before proudly grasping my shoulder and steering me toward his guests.
"Everyone, this is my daughter, Daniella. She has so kindly volunteered to help out at the front of the house tonight. That should give me plenty of time to drink you all into a stupor until you agree to finance Madison's in Miami." Bill belted out a laugh, and a chorus of roars followed his lead as the clinking of glasses pealed through the room.
"Daniella, such a stunning young lady. You must have them lining up at University," one geezer with an English accent chimed in from the table. I didn't care for his lingering look.
"Actually Daniella's a senior at Mapleton Prep," my dad corrected him.
"Oh, a wonderful school. What are your plans for college?" Asked a woman who I thought owned half of the gold coast’s real estate, contributing to the small talk.
"She's going to the finest culinary school in Paris, just like her old man." Bill quickly squ
eezed my shoulder, his silent way of telling me to zip my lip before I could correct his statement. I used to say that when I was like ten, but nothing could be further from reality now, much like the fake smile I plastered on my face.
"That's lovely, and is there a boyfriend you'll be traveling to France with?" The real estate mogul asked dreamily, as if she wished she weren't stuck in a room with these winos, and would rather be sipping cappuccino with a lover at a street café.
"Nope, no boyfriend," I said with the politest smile I could muster.
"Not yet, but the way she carries on with the Clark boy, I'm sure we'll be hearing wedding bells soon enough," my dad interjected, and my whole body stiffened. He knew Evan was just a friend, and that was clearly just a ploy to name drop.
"Clark, as in the Clark Corporation? Very nice; you just make sure he knows you're worth every penny." Another suit said with a wink, and a round of laughter erupted. Did he just call me a hooker? I was quickly losing my patience for this ill-gotten glimpse into my future. Bill must have sensed that my restraint to hold my tongue had reached its end, and he started guiding me back to the hall as everyone offered hardy sentiments about their “charming encounter” with me. I doubt they'd be saying that if I had actually been allowed to speak. Bill didn't come to a stop until we were well out of earshot of the aged buffoons.
"Thank you for being the lady I know I raised," he said, facing me.
"Yeah, I learned a lot about myself tonight, apparently I'm going to Paris, just like Will, and bringing Evan with me, since we'll obviously be engaged soon. Thanks for the update," I said sarcastically.
"Well forgive me, Dani. With all of the nights Evan spends in your room, I assumed there was some potential for a future," he said. I physically stepped back, putting my hand on my throat from surprise, as if someone just jumped out at me from the dark.
"You know about that? Why haven't you ever busted me?'' I asked quietly, thinking if I admitted it softly enough, the blow of its impact wouldn't knock me over. My dad looked at me thoughtfully and sighed, putting a parental hand on my shoulder.
"You're almost an adult now, and about to be on your own, and the way you look after Conner, I know you'll be responsible. I trust you, Dani, and I hope that someday, I can earn it back from you," he said, looking down at the ground during his last words, and I had to clear the emotion from my throat. I thought he got the wrong idea of what Evan and I did behind closed doors, but it was pointless to correct him, since he would probably never believe our sleepovers were strictly platonic.
"Thanks, Dad." I appreciated what he said, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that regaining my trust would probably never happen. At least, I could throw him a bone with a heartfelt Dad. He took his hand off my shoulder, taking the moment with, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like we're in a better place.
"So what can I do?" I asked, clearing the heavy air.
"The hostess could use some assistance as soon as the dinner rush hits; but when it’s calm, could you make sure to schmooze the tables? You know, introduce yourself, make sure they have what they need and are enjoying themselves?" No explanation was needed. I'd been doing this on the occasion for years. Growing up, I watched my mom do the schmoozing, practically turning it into an art form, while Bill ran the kitchen. Plus, I already had my own personal refresher course after witnessing the pony parade back there at the chef’s table. I gave him a thumbs up in a "gotcha covered" manner before returning to the front, so he could get back to his new investors. I now had the feeling that a mission at The Basement was no more than a cakewalk when compared to the longevity this night promised.
Chapter 15: Tainted Scenery
Hours later, as the night began to wind down, and the dining room had become mostly quiet, I sadly realized that it just wasn't the same without my mom here. She really had a way of working the room, with her charming German accent and infectious personality. I really had to stop by and visit her and Ulla. It had been over a week since I'd seen either of them. But regardless of her presence, I learned from the best, and the guests seemed to respond well to me without having to turn on my own form of foreign charm. I did my due diligence as the front of the house filled, schmoozing the tables, sending over champagne to important clients, checking on Will from time-to-time in the kitchen, and keeping the wine flowing in the back for my dad's newest best friends. Surprisingly enough, by the end of the night, the family time punishment didn't seem so bad. In fact, I could've left sooner after the wino fest came to a close, and we put them into cabs, but my dad hinted that he had paperwork to do, so I offered to stay.
Overall, other than having to listen to my brother’s shower buddy, Leaha, bitch about how hungry she was from her juice cleanse, and how the smell of all the delicious food was torture for her, the friendly diners and conversation were a nice distraction from my wicked week of tightrope-walking hell. Speaking of wicked, I was taken aback when Missy appeared at the top of the staircase, wearing a sweater that looked like it shrunk three times too small in the dryer. Conner started to run up to me, but then stopped himself, knowing Dad would yell at him if he caught him running in the restaurant, so I met him halfway.
I bent down and gave him a hug, "Hey buddy, what are you doing here? It’s way past your bedtime." I pulled away to double check the clock, confirming it was half past eleven.
"After the movie, he decided he wanted to see Daddy one more time before I dropped him at Claudia's for the week," Missy replied in a cutesy voice, patting Conner's back. Yeah right, my little brother wanted to drive all the way into the city, despite looking like he could barely keep his eyes open. Conner would hitchhike to my mom's after a week with Missy if it could get him there faster. This was obviously just a scheme for Missy to see Bill one more time. He only stayed at the house a few nights a week, but when my mom had Conner, he was practically a ghost, with only the cigarette ash in our driveway from where Fred waited, as an eerie reminder of his transparent presence.
"Hey, I think Will has some leftover frosting with your name on it," I said, tousling Conner's hair, and he gave me a big jack o’lantern smile of excitement, trying to resist running into the kitchen. I felt a touch of vengeful satisfaction. I wished I could be there when Mom and Ulla laid into Missy after she dropped him off in Mapleton past midnight, with him bouncing off the walls from his sugar high. I successfully avoided Missy all week, and figured a public place was the best time to bring this up, so I didn't snap at her, or snap her neck since both options appealed to me more than they should. She really brought out the nasty vampire in me.
"You know, next time you get a message from the school, I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to me about it first before you get Bill all upset, when you don’t even know what happened," I said casually, walking back to the check-in podium, and Missy followed.
"I don't work for you, Dani, I work for your dad. So when he asked me to keep him in the loop with the comings and goings of the house, I don't feel the need to run anything by you first," she said snidely, facing me at the podium, her boobs almost spilling out of her top as she leaned in to glare. She was so lucky this barrier stood between us right now. Not that I couldn't shatter the wooden box into smithereens and give her the worst splinter of her life if I felt like it, and boy, did I feel like it.
"Look, it's obvious why you’re here, so why don't you get out of my face and go give my dad the estimate for the new dryer. And I'm very sorry you had to come all the way down to this nice establishment at the risk of an embarrassing nip slip in front of these patrons of class," I said, gesturing to her scanty, plunging V-neck sweater. She gasped at the insult, stepping back, and flipping her hair as she walked away, which was very reminiscent of the Harper Huff. Maybe they were long lost sisters.
A rumble of low laughter came from the bar area, which was strange, since service had slowed, and I had cut the bartender for the night. I could already smell the rose water as I walked past the artistic, wood-slatted wall that a
cted as a partition, only to find Alec sitting at one of the cocktail tables. He had already poured himself a drink.
"May I help you?" I said with irritation, putting my hands on my hips, and feeling nothing but impatience at seeing him here.
"That was a good one," he said, picking up the glass of white wine to take a sip.
I walked over and grabbed it out of his hands before he could have a drop. "We don't serve underage teenagers. You'll have to save the boozing for Dale’s party tomorrow night," I said bitterly, not that the wine even affected him. I was not happy to get a text from Kate earlier, announcing the whole gang was for sure going to Dale's tomorrow, and Alec's name was included on her roster. Urgh, it had only been a week, and he had already nestled his way into my little family of friends. How long before he found his way into this one too? It was hard enough to keep myself from succumbing to his magnetic pull. How could I fight it, with him always so near? I dumped out the wine behind the bar before taking a seat across from Alec at the cocktail table.
"This is a nice place. How many restaurants do you have?" He asked, looking over the décor of the room.
"Are you really asking, or do you already know?" The mischievous smile pulling at his cheek confirmed it was just that: friendly chit-chat.
"Are you going to tell me why you're here, or keep playing coy?" I asked, while slowly crossing my legs as I leaned into the table, clasping my hands. His eyes flitted over my bobbing stiletto heel, and I could see he was holding back a smile.