Chapter 34
Davian
Family Dinner
Rondo in F Minor for Solo Piano
“Kendall’s Summit”
Nicholas Britell
I was absolutely certain that a woman had just fallen from one of the upper floors and landed in the bushes.
What the...
I blinked, searching for movement in the darkness, but it was pitch black out there. My mind was probably playing tricks on me. The consequence of sleepless nights spent staring at a typewriter.
“Davian?” Brittany, who was seated in front of me with her back to the window, smiled at me with raised eyebrows, as if she had suppressed our last conversation at Monica’s better than I had. “Is everything okay? You seem troubled.”
Lorette, sitting to her left, immediately looked up. “Don't you like the food?”
“No, I...” I put on my restrained smile and looked back at the others. “It tastes very good.”
Thabeea, the Richters' elderly cook, could prepare food like no one else in this town. Many wealthy families had wanted to hire her a good twenty years ago, but that had never happened because the Richters paid her well.
The African-American woman with gray dreadlocks smiled at me before replacing a half-empty plate of buttered parsley potatoes with a full one, then leaving the large dining room.
Emphatically, I served myself and my daughter more of the delicately caramelized asparagus with butter and breadcrumb sauce, but when I noticed my daughter staring out the window as if she had seen a ghost, I knew I hadn't imagined it.
Someone had just fallen from the floor above us.
The urge to get up and go outside to make sure that person was okay grew stronger.
Probably someone new on the staff who still had to get used to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Dilara, sweetheart. I heard you're studying politics too?”
Lorette looked expectantly at my daughter, who broke out of her stupor with obvious embarrassment and smiled shyly.
“Oh, no... journalism. I prefer reporting on politics and educating people about it rather than practicing it.”
“Typical Rydell,” Brittany said, smiling amusedly before looking first at Lara, then at me, as she sipped her wine. “You like to keep a low profile.”
Why couldn't I shake the feeling that she still wasn't ready to give up?
“Far too many journalists keep a low profile, but not Lara, Brit. She's already writing articles for the university newspaper,” remarked Tony, who was sitting next to Lorette, and Lara blushed.
I smiled proudly.
She had told me a week ago that she was now officially part of the Maplecrest Academic Post.
“With today's politics, we need courageous journalists to expose all the disgusting scandals,” Anthony snorted. “We need a lot more committed young people, and I think Lara made the best choice with her decision.”
Lara smiled sheepishly, then quickly continued eating.
The two usually got along well, which was because Tony had always been there for her and often taken her to school with him, not to mention that he had also been taking her to campus a lot lately.
But whenever we ate with the Richters, my daughter was reserved, almost shy, which was completely out of character for her.
“Do you even make money there?” Lorette asked with a barely audible dismissive undertone.
“It's not about the money. Like Tony said, someone needs to investigate all the scandals out there because more and more is being covered up.
And I think that when I graduate from Maplecrest and get enough internships under my belt, I'll have a good chance of getting into the big newspapers and working my way up.”
I didn't like how she lied. She wanted to be a freelance journalist, but because she knew the Richters would laugh at that, she decided to avoid serious topics like this. And the frustrating part was that I had modeled this behavior for her.
“You'll go far, Dilara.” Joseph smiled encouragingly at her. “Besides, press secretaries earn enough to live a comfortable life.”
“She could also marry well,” Lorette laughed, and Joseph and Brittany joined in, although the latter’s laughter was obviously forced.
It was no secret that Brittany didn’t want to get married yet, that she was currently pursuing a high-flying career in politics and probably had enough on her plate dealing with competitive men.
Nevertheless, she had already tried three times this evening to strike up a conversation with me, still eyeing me in a way that only women who wanted to sleep with me did, and the thought disturbed me minimally.
Apparently, she wasn't ready to give up yet, which meant that a serious conversation with Joseph was overdue. This had to come to an end.
She smiled at me.
“Davian, do you think you'll go back to D.C. to continue practicing law?” Joseph cleared his throat audibly, but Brittany quickly continued. “It would really be a waste of potential. All that money, all those opportunities for advancement. Dad often tells me you were one of the best.”
I put down my wine glass and leaned back, trying to ignore Joseph's watchful gaze.
“I don't think I'm cut out for a fast-track career.”
Lorette laughed. “Nonsense. Just look at what a successful man Joseph has made you over the last twenty years. We wouldn't hesitate to choose you as our family lawyer. No one in this town would. Aren't you rotting away at Maplecrest as... a professor?”
Joseph glared at her.
“Davian will take over Maplecrest one day and be responsible for the future of thousands of top lawyers.”
My stomach churned.
That was the last thing I wanted.
“That's not a given,” I emphasized, twirling my wine glass, focused on creating a swirl in the red liquid, but then stopped myself.
It was an old habit that Joseph had broken me of long ago.
His gaze was on my wine glass, and I immediately withdrew my hand, but he seemed more lost in thought than focused on me.
I remembered my mission, why I was here, but so far, I hadn't had a chance to look around in peace.
There were no toys lying around in the hallways, but that could also be due to the Richter family's obsession with tidiness – if you left Anthony out of the equation.
What if the little girl was with her mother right now? What if Joseph was preoccupied with completely different problems?
Former colleagues who had reopened one of his closed cases and for whom he now had to return to D.C. to represent old clients again, or at least advise them. Something that some of the professors at Maplecrest had to do from time to time, but Joseph had never talked about anything like that before.
“Darling,” Lorette looked at Joseph with raised eyebrows before spooning caviar from the small mother-of-pearl bowl with a golden spoon. “Don't tell me that Fitzek offspring still thinks he can snatch the position of future director away from you?”
I snorted morosely and ran my hand over my throat.
“Troy is manipulative and mourns a chance he obviously missed.
He is dissatisfied, compares himself to others, wants everything he can't have.” Anthony nodded in agreement before turning his head toward the door.
“Those who burn too quickly end up dragging everything with them into the darkness, and Arnold will realize that sooner or later.”
I wanted to lean back again and raise the wine glass to my lips, but a voice that didn't belong in this place made me pause.
The Search (Originally Performed by NF)
Karaoke Instrumental Version
Hit The Button Karaoke
“The brightest light a star gives is the one before it perishes.”
As if compelled by instinct, I turned my head toward the young woman who elegantly entered the dining room in a sparkling midnight blue dress, as if she were the starry sky herself. That very dress I had once nearly torn off her body.
Heat exploded in my face, though I couldn't tell if it was confusion or overwhelm that came crashing down on me.
Quill. Here... It didn't make sense. But there she was, traces of ink on her face, handprints on her... Handprints.
Lara raised her hand to her mouth.
“All great empires reared up once more before they collapsed.”
She stopped in front of the chair at the empty end of the table and stared at Joseph with reddened eyes, but my gaze couldn’t get used to her appearance or to that mark, which made everything inside me tighten.
What the...
Was I dreaming? Was this apparition there an angel of death, warning me of what could happen if I didn't watch over her? If I didn't keep her as close to me as possible?
“Right, Father?”
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Quill didn't disappear. Neither did the injury on her neck.
Father.
With great effort, I managed to turn my head toward Joseph.
He was sitting there. Frozen. His hand wrapped around his whiskey glass as if he wanted to crush it. His eyes held emotions unfamiliar to me, emotions that made my stomach twist and completely ruined my appetite.
What in God's name was going on here?
“Gravia...” Now Lorette, who, like the rest of the table, had been frozen in place, also pulled both hands to her mouth before looking at her husband. “Joseph, didn't you...” Her gaze darted back to me and she pressed her lips together.
Gravia.
Again, I looked at Quill. Again, I blinked, watching her nod to Lara as if neither of them knew each other.
Then our eyes met.
She didn't seem surprised at all to see me here, smiling and nodding at me as if we were casual acquaintances, but I was unable to return the gesture.
“Professor Rydell.”
I swallowed, on the verge of getting up and walking over to her, carefully placing my fingers on her neck, asking her what had happened, what she was doing here...
Professor Rydell.
Everything inside my head was spinning, as if my system was having trouble piecing all the information together into a coherent puzzle.
Father.
Again, I looked back at Joseph.
He was so fixated on her that something inside me wanted him to take that hair-raising glare off her.
“Gravia...” Anthony began, touching his throat, but then looked at Joseph.
Lorette cleared her throat and suddenly stood up.
“It would be better if you spared our guests your presence. Let me take you back to your room, shall I?”