Chapter 14
HARLOW
"This is it?" I looked around me, taking in the wide room. The place was right on the corner. Windows on two sides brought in a ton of light.
"This is it," Archer agreed. "I thought if you were going to expand, this would be a good place for it."
"It'd be perfect," I said.
Was I ready for another restaurant? If I wasn't careful, I could fall in love with this location.
"Why is it empty?" I turned around to meet Archer's gaze.
"The previous owner died," he said. "Her family didn't want to take it on, so they put it on the market."
"That's becoming a habit," I said dryly, "restaurants with dead previous owners."
"It was natural causes this time," he said.
I guess that was better than being murdered, and sliced and diced. Or ground.
I stepped through the seating area, empty of tables and chairs, already thinking about the changes I'd make.
For one thing, the red carpet on the floor would have to go. And the black walls. Along with the black doors, black ceilings, and black fixtures and fittings.
"Any chance the previous owner was a vampire and died from an overdose of garlic?" I asked.
Cass laughed, but it was a nervous sound. "It looks like it."
I grinned over at him. "They have different taste from me," I said carefully.
I didn't want to insult anyone else's taste, but black on black on black with a hint of red wasn't on brand for my restaurants. My wardrobe, maybe. My workplace, no.
"How did you find this place?" I asked Archer.
"I used to eat here," he said, turning a light switch on and off. "The previous owner, Elvira, that's what she called herself, made the best Korean barbecue I ever had."
"She sounds like an interesting woman," I said. I wish I'd known her. She sounded like my kind of eccentric person.
"You would have liked her," Archer said. "She would have enjoyed barbecuing Zeus."
Cass, who was peering into the kitchen, made a gagging sound and turned around to wrinkle his nose at Archer. "Can we not talk about eating people?" he asked.
"Technically I was talking about cooking people," Archer said, with a shrug and a hint of mischief in his eyes.
"Like that's so different." Cass smirked at him.
"Actually the difference is quite significant," Archer said, continuing this particular line of shit stirring. "You can eat things without cooking them. And cook things without eating them. The two aren't mutually exclusive."
"Yes, but you meant cooking, then eating," Cass said.
"Ignore him," I told Cass. "He's trying to get a rise out of you by being pedantic."
"I figured," Cass said, playfully glaring at Archer before turning back to the kitchen. "This is really nice. I think you should buy the place."
"I have enough trouble finding staff for Angel's Rest," I pointed out. I was glad for the vote of confidence, but being confident in it myself? That was a whole other story.
"That won't be a problem for much longer," Archer said. "After tonight you'll be able to trust anyone you hire."
I wasn't sure if it'd be that simple, but it sounded good.
"I'll have to give it some thought," I said. "Crunch the numbers, talk to my accountant. All that stuff."
"But you'll buy the place, right?" Cass asked.
"I think you should," Archer agreed. "I mean, look at these curtains.
" He grabbed one that draped beside the window and drew it across, then the one on the other side, blocking off the view of the street.
The curtains were black velvet, thick and heavy.
They must have cost a small fortune, but they added to the vampire vibe of the place.
"Those have to go," I said.
"Sounds like she's made up her mind," Cass said, teasing gently. He grinned at Archer.
Archer responded with a faint smile. "We can be convincing when we want to."
"Very convincing," Cass agreed. "I bet if all those curtains were closed, it'd be pitch black in here."
"Are you going to test that theory?" I asked.
"Maybe I will." Cass strode over to close the other three sets of curtains. The only light was that which came through the door.
"I have to rethink my suggestion this place was vampiric," I said, wrinkling my nose.
"It looks more like a mausoleum," Cass said. He grinned but it didn't quite meet his eyes. Every so often he'd glance toward the door, or the back of the restaurant.
I took a look at my watch to check the time.
Archer nodded.
I swallowed hard and walked over to give Cass a hug. "We'll be right in back, okay?"
He nodded quickly. "Okay."
I didn't want to leave him out here by himself, but we wouldn't be far, and it wouldn't be for long.
I couldn't help comparing this to what happened to Detective Getzoff. I'd said I wouldn't use Cass for bait under any circumstances, and yet, wasn't that exactly what we were doing right now?
The difference now was, we were ready.
I hoped.
I followed Archer into the kitchen, where we wouldn't be seen but we could hear everything.
Including the footsteps that came through the door.
"Cassius." Forrest's voice was smooth. Calm. Firmly in control as far as he was concerned.
Yeah, fuck that buddy, I thought.
"Hi, Dad," Cass said. "I wasn't sure you'd come."
"I was surprised to hear from you," Forrest said. He actually sounded sincere.
"I figured since Jules was out of town, he wouldn't know I asked you to meet me," Cass said. He, on the other hand, sounded anxious as hell.
You've got this, I told him silently.
"Ah yes, Julius." Forrest's voice drew closer before moving away again. "He's still the same troubled boy he used to be."
"He's full of anger," Cass said. His voice was steadier, although he must have bristled at the insult to his brother. "He doesn't understand why you left."
"But you do?" Forrest asked. "Is that why you asked me to come to this…derelict place?" I could almost see him curl his lip.
"Actually, I'd value your input," Cass said. "I've been working in a restaurant and I liked it. I thought maybe I could buy one of my own."
"This place?" Forrest sounded skeptical, like his son could do better with almost anywhere else in the city but here. What did he know about restaurants anyway, except to eat in them?
"I know it's a bit rough," Cass said. "I think it has a lot of potential."
"If you gut the place and start from scratch." Forrest sounded like he wasn't buying Cass' entire story. He was starting to become suspicious. "You brought me here so you could talk about buying a restaurant. Or do you want money?"
"If you want to invest, I wouldn't object," Cass said, lying through his teeth. He wouldn't have taken a cent from Forrest, whether he was related to him or not.
I doubted he'd take money from me if I offered it either. He had his pride; I respected him for it.
"Like you said," Cass continued, "it needs a lot of work. Maybe some new carpet. I think I should keep those curtains though."
Was that his way of trying to get a rise out of me? I smirked in his general direction.
If I bought this place, those curtains were not going to stay. If they liked them so much, they could put them in their own bedrooms, or make them into suits. Whatever. They wouldn't be hanging on my windows.
"I have to suggest if you keep those, you might scare away your customers," Forrest said.
"Fuck," I mouthed. I hated agreeing with him on anything, even something as minor as curtains.
Cass laughed, the sound a little higher than usual. Would Forrest pick up on that? How long was it since they'd seen each other? Long enough that he didn't know his son very well, I hoped, otherwise he'd see right through him.
"It might be the vibe I'm going for," he suggested. "Moody. Gothic. Like an old horror movie. I was thinking of getting some taxidermy bats and hanging them on the walls."
I shook my head at him. That was also not going to happen.
Everyone knew taxidermy bats looked better over the doorway.
"You have interesting taste, son," Forrest said.
I grimaced over at Archer. His mouth was turned down. Visibly as unhappy to hear Forrest refer to him that as I was.
"It's not about my taste," Cass said. "It's about creating a vibe, you know? A brand. Standing out from the crowd. Being different. It'd be cosy. And unique. Who wouldn't want to come here and have some, I don't know, sausages."
I almost choked on air. Was he referring to the kind made with beef, pork or chicken? Or the kind that lived in people's pants? Those would make for interesting eating.
I could see it now. 'Hey, would you like some salad with your penis?'
It would raise eyebrows. The city had just about everything else you could imagine, why not penis? Although, if I searched, I might find other places that served those. And testicles for good measure. Fuck knows what else.
Each to their own; it wasn't my menu of choice.
"If you're going to do this, you might need something more nourishing than sausages," Forrest said. He sounded unimpressed. Again, we agreed on something. Ugh.
"Do you have something in mind?" Cass asked. "A particular favorite cuisine?"
Silence followed, I assumed Forrest was thinking.
"I quite enjoy Icelandic cuisine," he said finally. "Hakarl with a shot of Brennivin, specifically, but they are an acquired taste."
I frowned over at Archer.
He leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Fermented shark. And a spirit called Black Death."
Of course it was. How appropriate.
"I'll consider those," Cass said. "I have more training to do before I can work in the kitchen myself. I thought I'd hire a chef for a while. I guess they'd have their own menu and style?"
"No doubt," Forrest agreed. "Have you got any particular chefs in mind?"
My heart started to hammer. I was sure he could see right through the walls to where Archer and I stood.
"Not really," Cass said easily. He was putting all of his musical theatre acting skills to good use right now. If I was Forrest, I would have bought every word he said, even if I'd walked in with a healthy dose of suspicion.
After all, Cass was his son. How could he have an ulterior motive? Right?
"Can you recommend any?" Cass asked.
"As a matter of fact, I know of one in particular," Forrest said smoothly. "Someone you might be acquainted with."
"You mean my boss?" Cass asked. "I don't think so. She's busy with her own restaurants."
"Is she now?" Forrest's voice was closer. "For someone who owns two restaurants, she seems busy putting her nose in where it doesn't belong."
"I wouldn't know," Cass said. "I work with her, then go home afterward."
"Mmhmm," Forrest said, clearly not buying a word of it now.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Cass said, sounding more nervous than when Forrest first walked through the door.
"I know it's been a long time since we've seen each other, Cassius," Forrest said, "but I wasn't born yesterday. I know you're involved with Harlow St. James. I know she murdered Hypnos, Eros, and all the others. I know she wanted you to ask me to come here today."
"Why would she do that?" Cass asked. "Whatever you think you know—"
"What I do know," Forrest snapped. "Did you think I'd walk in here without being prepared? I wasn't born yesterday. Miss St. James, you can come out now."
Fuck.
I gestured for Archer to stay where he was and stepped out of the kitchen.