Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
As Dante and Honesty walked through the lobby of The Silver Fox, one thing became abundantly clear. His father’s ostentatious style had all but sucked the air from the room.
Amber light bounced off golden-yellow stucco walls as well as the clashing patterns of the wall hangings, paintings, and pottery pieces. Dante felt his lip curl. This was definitely O’s handiwork.
He wasn’t sure if his father’s hallmark style—or lack thereof—was more Tuscan Villa or Old World Traveler, but he could see what it wasn’t: understated. It was like the set designer for Indiana Jones had decorated the place.
Then again he was coming in hot tonight. His father had texted him earlier today to needle him about his date.
Jaylyn says you’re bringing a woman tonight. Don’t hurt yourself trying to impress her with your noble devotion to duty.
The comment had crawled beneath his skin the instant he’d read it. His father possessed a gift for making loyalty sound like a character flaw.
A follow-up text had read:
Although, if this is the girlfriend from Northwestern, she’s probably immune to your charms.
Dante almost told Jaylyn about it, but he could have predicted her response: He’s just being funny! Lighten up. But their father’s jokes had a way of hitting Dante sideways. He’d ignored his anger. Until now, apparently.
O wasn’t so much mean-spirited as he was abysmal at connecting with Dante. They’d been oil and water for years. Why would today be any different?
Honesty and Dante were directed to a private room with ornately patterned rugs underfoot, brass lanterns glowing from the walls, and shelves crowded with twine-wrapped wine bottles, vintage hardbound books, and other plants and artifacts.
“It’s like a yard sale,” he muttered to his date.
“It’s not that bad,” she replied with humor in her voice. At least she hadn’t picked up on his mood—or if she had, she wasn’t letting it ruin hers.
A craggy, rustic wooden table, softened by age, dominated the space. Around it were bourbon-colored leather chairs with burnished gold rivets. Each place setting featured wine glasses, rolled napkins, and stoneware plates. In the center of the table were floral arrangements and low candles.
“Okay, it’s a lot,” Honesty whispered up at him. To his surprise, he managed a half smile.
“There he is!” Jaylyn shouted. She sounded glad to see him rather than exasperated. “Hi, Honesty. I was hoping Dante hadn’t scared you off!”
“Hi, J.” Honesty’s grip relaxed on his arm.
“Me? You’re the bad influence,” Dante said.
“Am not.” Jaylyn stuck out her tongue at Dante and then turned to Honesty. “We’re starting with champagne. Unless you’d rather have margaritas?”
“No margaritas,” Honesty said. “I might never have margaritas with you again.”
“I said that once.” Brody approached, notably missing his better half. “I lied.”
“Where’s Reagan?” Dante asked.
“She’s breast-feeding in the bathroom, which is roughly the size of the Taj Mahal. We brought someone to help with the baby tonight. She said she wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Funny, Dante had considered missing it, and it certainly wouldn’t have cost him the world. If it hadn’t been for Honesty’s insistence on coming with him, or, face it, Jaylyn’s nonstop texting today, he might have skipped dinner altogether.
“As long as she doesn’t keep the baby hidden away tonight. We want to see her,” Jaylyn said.
“I promise Reagan will bring her around.”
“Hi Honesty, I’m Chloe.” Zander’s girlfriend popped in and offered her hand. “It is so good to meet you. I am excited about the work you’ll be doing with RFV.”
“Thank you. Me too.”
“Come with me for champagne, and I promise not to let Jaylyn or tequila anywhere near you.” Chloe laughed. Honesty gave Dante a wave as she followed them across the room to a stocked bar complete with bartender.
“Dad really knows how to do it, doesn’t he?” Brody’s tone was filled with admiration.
“Are you kidding? This place is ridiculous,” Dante found himself saying, despite promising himself that he wouldn’t be petty tonight.
“A cluttered mess. But somehow it works. Like the rest of Dad’s life. No matter how audacious things appear, they work out.”
Dante let out a noncommittal grunt. How the man had talked four women into mothering his children, and then letting him gallivant across the globe, was beyond him.
“This room has been to more countries than I have,” Dante quipped.
Brody let out a hearty laugh.
Zander stepped in to hand Dante a glass of whiskey. “Drink up before the old man arrives. Who knows how many minutes he’ll stay before he has to run a very important errand. In Italy.”
Brody clinked Zander’s glass with his own. “I thought he was staying in Chicago for a while. That’s what Jaylyn told me.”
“Him? Stay when there’s a fresh new prospect in the wings? Unlikely.” Dante shook his head. “This restaurant’s been open nearly a month. Pretty long in the tooth for our dad.”
He could feel Zander and Brody watching him carefully.
“Sorry. Long couple of weeks. I was planning to be back in LA by now.”
“Sure it’s not more than that?” Brody raised his eyebrows.
“Are things not going well with Honesty?” Zander’s face was a mask of older-brother concern.
How was Dante supposed to answer that? He supposed the truth would be easiest, even if it might subject him to further questioning.
“Things are going very well with Honesty. And with her charity I’m helping to facilitate. Long Live Food will make a big difference to the community.” Dante lifted his drink to his lips.
Brody clapped him on the back, and almost made Dante spill his whiskey down the front of his tie. “Save it for the board meetings, brother. Just say you like being with her. Is it that hard?”
In this crowd? Yeah, it was that hard.
He took a second look around the room, and noticed bottles of Octavius’s wine, “The Big O,” lined up on nearly every surface. The man never missed an opportunity to market himself.
Dante was about to ask his brothers how long they planned on staying tonight, when the clapping began. Jaylyn started it, and then Zander, Brody, and a few other guests joined in.
“The man of the hour is here!” announced his father’s voice.
Dante turned to find Octavius dressed in cargo pants, boots, and an untucked button-down shirt. He cradled a half-filled glass of red wine and an unlit cigar in one hand, the other raised over his head as if he was a celebrity.
His white hair was longer than usual in the back.
He’d grown a beard since Dante had seen him last. It suited him, as did the outfit.
For whatever reason, it chapped Dante’s ass that O hadn’t bothered with a tie at his own restaurant.
Not that Brody had worn one either. He was also dressed in an open collared shirt, though he had opted for pants that were more appropriate for an office than while on safari.
Jaylyn was the first to bop over and wrap her arms around Octavius’s neck in a bear hug. “What took you so long? I was here thirty minutes ago.”
“I was at the bar having a wine with a woman named Leena.”
Of course he was. The world stopped and started up again on O’s timetable.
From the other side of the room, Honesty offered Dante a soft smile of support.
Evidently she had picked up on his discomfort tonight.
He hadn’t bitched about it, only had warned her that he and O weren’t close.
She’d been supportive when she’d said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.
Everyone wants to see the baby, anyway.”
“Let it roll off your back,” Zander advised before stepping forward to clasp their father’s hand in his own.
Easier said than done.
Brody received a hearty hug from their dad next. When O extended a hand to Dante, he did so with a bit of hesitation. “If it isn’t my California kid.” O gave him a once over. “Such a city slicker. I thought Zander was the one with the stick up his ass.”
He laughed at his own joke while Dante gritted his teeth. Zander shrugged one shoulder, utterly unbothered.
It was going to be a long night.
A gaggle of waitstaff filed in with mezzo boards loaded with rustic breads, black and green olives, whipped ricotta, and a variety of roasted vegetables.
Everyone took their seats—O at the head of the table, Brody and Reagan to his left, Zander and Chloe and Jaylyn to his right.
Honesty sat next to Reagan while Dante took the head of the table at the opposite end.
“Are we missing someone?” Jaylyn pointed to a place setting.
“Ask Dante.” Octavius grinned.
“Ask me what?”
“You don’t know?” O drank down a mouthful of wine. “Your mother is attending. Any minute now. Her private flight landed an hour ago. I thought you two knew each other’s schedules. They are more of a couple than Simone Moretti and I ever were,” he muttered to Chloe.
Chloe, ever the peacekeeper, smiled over at Dante. “She must have wanted to surprise you.”
Under the table, Honesty gripped his hand.
By the time dinner had been served family style—roasted branzino, rack of lamb, and handmade pasta—Octavius was telling stories in his boisterous, charming way. He mentioned his next trip—Portugal this time, since he’d recently returned from Dubai.
Brody mentioned how much he loved Portugal at the same time Dante’s mother appeared in the doorway.
“Simone!” Brody called out, off his chair in an instant to kiss her cheek. She embraced him, said hello to Reagan, and then hugged her way around the table. She offered her hand for O to kiss before taking her seat next to Dante.
“Thanks for the warning,” he told her as she patted his hand.
“Last minute flight change. We’ll discuss later.”
“Mom, meet Honesty Benitez.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Dante’s been a great help with my foundation,” Honesty said magnanimously.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Simone’s smile was impermeable. “I’ve heard a lot about you over the years. I’m sure there is more to you and Dante than a…foundation.”
“Mom,” Dante warned.
“Oh, relax.” Simone waved a hand and then turned toward Brody and Reagan. “And where is your beautiful baby girl?”