I make my way over to him, pausing as an employee rushes over to pull out my chair for me.
“Thank you, Benjamin,” Justin tells him cheerily, nodding toward me. “Bring my sweet princess a Shirley Temple—with extra cherries.” He winks at the man before turning back to me. “How are the boys? I take it they’re doing well?”
“I found your book,” I tell him, lifting it up and then setting it on the table. I drop my book bag to the floor and push it underneath the white tablecloth with my foot. There’s clearly a dress code for this restaurant however I see plenty of other Whitehall kids in their uniforms, just like it is at the country club. This whole town is like a closed circuit, one big wheel of who’s who, and everyone is friends with each other.
That is, except for Justin.
Just as it is for me at school, it feels like every fucking person in that room is staring at us. At Justin, actually. He’s really made a big splash, hopping into a pond where he was ousted from a decade and a half prior. I have to give credit where credit’s due: the man is brave, stubborn, and determined.
“You did, didn’t you?” he says, reaching out to pet the cover with a single finger. The image shows a painting that I’m guessing might be a watercolor; it features a man holding a candle and two women looking on suspiciously from behind him. “You’re so very clever.” Justin flicks the cover open and smiles at the first lines in the story. “This is a first edition you know, circa 1920. It’s in the public domain now which is fortunate.” He lifts his startlingly blue eyes up to my face. “Tess would very much enjoy seeing this, I imagine.”
“You want to tell me what the meaning of this is?” I query, and Justin smiles mysteriously.
“I’m happy to be forthright with nearly everything, princess.” His smile fades slightly. “But not this. Not in regard to you know what. Like I said, find the right clues, follow the right trail …” He trails off, but the rest of that sentence is burned into my brain like a brand. Or someone I love gets hurt. Got it.
With a sigh, I drag the book back toward me, closing the cover and resting my arm atop it.
I haven’t yet glanced at the menu when our waiter comes back with my drink—one that I didn’t select mind you.
“Are you ready to order?” he asks, and I start to open my mouth to ask for a few more minutes when Justin cuts in.
“We are,” he replies breezily, waving the hand that isn’t holding his wineglass in a dismissive manner. Justin rattles off a series of dishes that are far too fancy for me to recognize, but I get the idea that he’s just ordered me meat and vegetables. Maybe. I’m not sure. “Thank you, again, Ben. Such great service as always.”
“I can order for myself,” I assert as soon as the waiter walks away, but holy crap. Holy fuck. Fuck. The look Justin gives me, it penetrates me straight to my core, and I feel my spine stiffen, the fine hairs on my arms raising up. There’s a cold fury burning in him that makes me tremble. “But thank you.”
That was a mistake.
A huge one.
He doesn’t seem to mind if I quip back during a normal conversation, but something about what I said just now set him off. Dear god.
“You’re very welcome,” he adds finally, a smile returning to his face. “Well, I hope you had a wonderful day with your boyfriends.”
I could argue that they aren’t my boyfriends, but what’s the point? I wish they were. Even if it makes me feel guilty as hell. I’d love to have three boyfriends. I mean, who wouldn’t? But, like in this case, it isn’t just about sex. It’s so much more than that already.
I’m sorry, Maxie. I won’t do it. I won’t. But I can’t help the wanting. And I’m sorry, Parrish. We’ll be together again soon, I promise.
“I’ve figured out by now that you’re sending me to places that have meaning between you and Tess.” I gesture around at the restaurant. “This place, for example. She told me you took her here for your first official date.”
Justin lets out a loud, belly-deep laugh, one that echoes around the restaurant. Anyone who wasn’t staring before sure is staring now, and he couldn’t give a single fuck less. He seems pleased by the attention actually. I cringe when Justin lifts up a hand and snaps his fingers, holding his wineglass aloft for a refill.
Another restaurant employee appears seemingly out of nowhere to pour more wine.
Christ.
“She did, didn’t she? I heard.” He sips his wine, and I shiver at the idea that he was listening in on the conversation that I had with Tess. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get over the complete lack of privacy his presence has brought. I never feel safe. Nothing is ever truly private. Not even sex with Chasm. With Maxx. With Parrish. Because I’m sure he saw it. He didn’t kidnap him the day after for no reason at all; that was timed with careful precision.
