Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Forty-nine
Iris gripped the door handle as they zoomed up the FDR Drive, but there were few lights or opportunities to…
do whatever reckless escape her gut was screaming at her to attempt.
Jonathan’s mood was unsettlingly amiable.
He apologized for startling her and said only that they needed to have an “emergency meeting,” with no mention that they had to have been following her.
Jonathan claimed he was treating her to dinner at “the best restaurant in New York.” Iris felt sick to her stomach as she watched the East River rush by. They drove all the way to East Harlem.
“Do you know this place?” Jonathan asked.
“I buy the tomato sauce.”
Jonathan chuckled.
Esdras opened the door and offered his hand to help Iris out. Her only move was to play along, relieved at least to be in a public place. Jonathan told Esdras he would send out his usual and escorted Iris inside.
Although the restaurant looked closed from the outside, inside it buzzed like a secret clubhouse.
The dining room was set away from the front windows like a hideaway, it had a low printed-tin ceiling, wooden booths with tall backs lining the perimeter, and large round tables in the center.
The space was dimly lit by a few stained-glass fixtures and small table lamps. Well, she thought, semi-public.
The host in a fine gray suit greeted Jonathan like an old friend, kissing him on both cheeks and asking after Allegra, before allowing them to walk themselves to an empty booth against the back wall.
The diners were older, whiter, and more male than average, the room felt full but not crowded.
Music was provided by an old-fashioned jukebox playing Tony Bennett and the percussive cocktail shaker of a white-haired bartender standing behind a bar unseasonably festooned with Christmas garlands and string lights.
Jonathan directed Iris to slide into the booth with his hand at the small of her back, as if he was her date and not her kidnapper.
“Would you believe this is the most exclusive restaurant in New York, or in all of the United States? You can’t buy your way in here.
Elon Musk couldn’t get a table here unless one of the regulars invited him as their guest.” Jonathan explained that the coveted tables were meted out to “owners” like timeshares, and none were available for normal reservations or walk-ins.
Jonathan had won his table—this booth was his the third Thursday of every month—in a game of high stakes poker with a fellow real estate scion who remained nameless.
“That’s what I love about this place. It’s not about money or status, it’s about connections, relationships, trust. That’s where the real power lies, the kind that triumphs and endures.
The joke about Rao’s is, it’s the only restaurant whose clientele is equal parts mob and law enforcement, sometimes at the same table. ”
“Must be some meatballs.” Iris knew he was trying to intimidate her, and it was working, but she didn’t want to let it show.
“They don’t suspend their animosity for the sake of the veal. It’s that here, behind the curtain, you see that the animosity is an act. We’re all connected. All part of the same ecosystem. Doesn’t mean we don’t play our roles with conviction, but we need each other.”
The host returned to personally take their order.
Jonathan raised his eyebrows at her. “Do you trust me to order for you? There are no menus. No bill, for that matter. They put it on your tab. The idea is, you’re among friends here. And you trust your friends, don’t you?”
“Sure.” Iris remained wary. “Go ahead.”
“We’ll start with the seafood salad and the meatballs, and then let’s do the orecchiette with salsicce and broccoli rabe, the spaghetti puttanesca, and ooh, the leg of lamb. And a bottle of Barolo. Ah, and please send an order of the lemon chicken out to my driver in the gray Mercedes.”
The host nodded approvingly and left.
Jonathan smiled, taking in the scene, and gestured to the kitschy bar. “Christmas in July. It’s fitting, as time stops here, and what better time than Christmas?” He turned back to her with a darker expression. “Although, forgive my insensitivity. You lost your parents at Christmas, didn’t you?”
“Did I tell you that?” Iris asked, knowing that she hadn’t.
“We look into all our potential hires’ backgrounds. I remember the story because it was very affecting—a little girl loses both her parents on Christmas. I can’t imagine how traumatic that must have been. Have you ever been able to enjoy the holiday again?”
She shrugged. “Christmas is always a little melancholy, isn’t it? I still celebrate it. If I were bothered by Christmas decorations, I wouldn’t be able to leave the house after October.”
A waitress arrived with the Barolo and poured them each a glass, then left.
Jonathan swirled the wine in his glass. “No siblings, either, right? Just that cousin, the one who saved you, the one whose funeral Esdras took you to.”
“Just me.” Iris raised her glass, and they lightly clinked.
“My heart goes out to you. I think one of the worst things you can be in this world is alone. It’s not natural. We’re social creatures. We don’t have big teeth, we don’t have long claws, we don’t have poisonous venom. We have only each other for protection.”
“I do all right on my own. I had no choice.”
“You do now.” Jonathan sipped his wine. “You’re a strong woman, Iris, that’s one of the reasons I wanted you on our team.
But another is that I could tell from your past, from your long time with Frank and Candela, that you understood the importance of family.
That’s how I run my business, truly. I know a lot of companies say that, but with me, it’s not bullshit. It’s real.”
Iris nodded.
“And sometimes we get angry at family, but we work it out, and we stick together.”
“Of course.” Iris didn’t want to show any more of her hand than she had to. She still didn’t know what exactly Jonathan knew.
“And if I’m being completely honest, there’s something about your aloneness that I find very attractive. It’s politically incorrect to say these days, but I want to protect you. Even if that means protecting you from yourself.”
A chill slipped down her spine.
The waitress returned with the appetizers. “Here ya go. Buon appetito .”
Jonathan scooped a steaming meatball onto his plate. “This looks great, doesn’t it? Dig in.”
Iris looked at the plate in front of her, the shiny, wet tentacles of an overturned squid reaching out like a desperate hand from the heap of shrimp, crab, and calamari.
Jonathan took a big bite of meatball and spoke through it, the gleam of tomato sauce shining on his lip. “So tell me, what were you up to today, before we ran into you?”
“I went to see Veronica. She was upset that her lawyer stopped returning her calls.”
“Unfortunately I lost confidence in Brianne after she made an error in judgment, sharing privileged information imprudently. In fact, I had some of my people look into her career history, and they found some past ethics violations and indiscretions. It’s likely she’ll be disbarred.”
Iris read the subtext. “I’m sorry to hear that. Will you be getting the Pattersons a new lawyer?”
“That depends.” Jonathan fixed his turquoise eyes on her. “Are you going to keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”
Her heart rate sped and everything in her body wanted to escape, but she was glued to the seat.
“I know you asked Brianne for the surveillance footage. I need you to tell me what you were looking for and what you think you saw.”
Iris swallowed hard, the tannic wine chalky in her mouth. “I was looking for something to help with their eviction case. I thought if I could find video of Kiara helping evacuate people, someone might write a story about it, garner sympathy.”
“And did you find any good footage for the press?”
“No, unfortunately. I couldn’t see anyone’s face clearly, the camera angle was bad.” She hoped he’d take it to mean she didn’t recognize anyone.
But Jonathan’s mouth set in a stern line. “We’re monitoring your computer down to the keystroke. I know exactly where you stopped the video, and you didn’t even get to the evacuation. So tell me, what did you see?”
Iris felt like a child in the principal’s office. “Patrick. I recognized his shoes.”
Jonathan sat back with a smile. “There’s that attention to detail I hired you for.”
Her throat thickened. She felt overwhelmed with fear of Jonathan, sorrow for the victims, anger for being looped in with all of it, and self-recrimination for missing the signs before.
“Don’t look so upset . You have everything you want right now.
You have your dream job, a handsome boyfriend, a cute dog, and very soon, I’m going to make you rich.
Unless you want to blow that all up. It’s your choice to make.
” Jonathan reached for her hand across the table like a lover; she let him take it like a corpse.
“Look, look at me. If you want to go to the police right now, I understand. See that man over at the center table? He’s the new commissioner.
I had a great conversation with him at the mayor’s last fundraiser.
I’d be happy to introduce you. In fact, if you want to know more about strategic arson, I can introduce you to that other man in the corner. ”
Iris had glanced to each man as Jonathan pointed them out. Off duty, they were indistinguishable.
“I know everybody. I take care of my friends and my friends take care of me. The police are satisfied with their investigation, they determined the gas leak and explosion were accidental. Bill and the NYCHA board are happy too. The tenants are thrilled about private development finally delivering the functioning buildings they have so long deserved, the chance to live with safety and dignity. Everybody wins.”
“Except the people who died.” The truth had a steadying effect on her.
“Two.”
“People.”