Contessa (25 page)

“
There is no
‘
just you.
’
Like I told you, I don
’
t think you
’
re always aware of your surroundings. Did you know there were pictures in the society pages this morning of your birthday party from last night?
”

“
No there weren
’
t,
”
I say, shocked.

“
You were wearing a red sweater, and your hair was pulled back.
”

“
We were in a private room.
”

“
Must have been a waiter or something,
”
he says.

“
How did you see it?
”
I ask him.

“
My mother follows your parents. She says she
’
s indebted to them, but really, she
’
s just fascinated with their lifestyle. She
’
d always hoped for something better for herself. For us.
”

“
They
’
re pretty normal,
”
I tell him.
“
I swear, they
’
re not newsworthy.
”

“
Said by a true insider.
”
He shakes his head, joking with me.
“
They really do shelter you, though, don
’
t they?
”

“
He
does.
”

“
Miss Holland? Mr. Scott? Your table is ready,
”
the hostess carefully interrupts our conversation. She takes us to a small booth toward the center of the restaurant.
“
Happy belated birthday,
”
she says to me, handing me a menu before she walks away.

“
Thanks.
”
I watch Jon across the table, slightly uncomfortable, now feeling multiple eyes trained on me.
“
I suppose you didn
’
t tell them it was my birthday either, huh?
”

He simply shakes his head.
“
Are you okay?
”

I put my elbow on the table and shield my face from the onlookers.
“
Why couldn
’
t they just seat us in the back? I feel like I
’
m on display or something.
”

“
We can move,
”
he offers, scanning the room.
“
Or go somewhere else, if you want.
”

“
No,
”
I tell him quickly.
“
I
’
m fine.
”
I take a deep breath and put my hand in my lap. When I glance around the restaurant, it looks like the only people watching me are the
wait staff
. We shouldn
’
t have to worry about poor service.
“
This place is beautiful. I
’
ve never been anywhere like it.
”

“
Good,
”
he says.
“
I had a hard time coming up with a place I thought you
’
d never been.
”

“
Welcome, welcome,
”
an older man in a pristine suit says to us quietly. He introduces himself to us as the manager of the restaurant. He gives us a brief history of the place before offering drinks.

“
How about a virgin rum and Coke?
”
he asks me.

“
What
’
s that?
”

“
Just a Coke,
”
Jon says with a laugh, looking at me for an answer. I shrug and nod.
“
Make it two.
”

“
Yes, sir,
”
the manager, Morris, says, delivering the order through his own microphone.

“
Can I offer you two the chef
’
s special tonight?
”
He points to the special menu, and before I even have a chance to read it, Jon answers for me.

“
She
’
s allergic to horseradish.
”

“
Of course,
”
Morris makes note.
“
We can work around that. Let us surprise you. Yes?
”

“
Ummm...
”
Jon stalls and shifts in his seat uncomfortably, looking up at me and smiling nervously.
“
I was thinking the prix fixe, if she sees something she likes. Would you mind if we looked over the menu?
”

“
Of course, Mr. Scott. Although the cost of the chef
’
s special is not stated on the menu, it
’
s the same price,
”
the manager speaks more quietly to Jon, but I can still hear him. I look at the price of the prix fixe menu and immediately feel guilty. Even with my allowance, I would never spend this much on a meal. I can
’
t imagine what Jon
’
s thinking.

“
We can go somewhere else,
”
I tell him quickly.
“
Anywhere, it
’
s fine.
”

“
What do you mean?
”

“
Did you see the price?
”

“
I don
’
t want to talk about how much this is going to cost, Livvy.
”
He shakes his head seriously.
“
Don
’
t worry about that, okay?
”

“
I
couldn
’
t even afford this,
”
I tell him reassuringly, trying to convince him to take me somewhere else.

“
Please. Let me do this for you. I
’
ve put money aside for this night. I want it to be something memorable for you–and for me.
”

“
But where did you...?
”
I feel rude asking, but I know he doesn
’
t have a job and I
’
m afraid we
’
re spending his mother
’
s money, which could undoubtedly be used on a million more important things than a fancy dinner.

“
My mom didn
’
t get her degree,
”
he confesses quickly.
“
She didn
’
t get a better job, Livvy. When my dad died, he had an insurance policy, and he left it to me. It
’
s not much, but I
’
ve been very careful with how I spend it. I pay for my art classes, which count towards college credit. I paid for the SAT prep courses. I get groceries once a month for my family. I bought my brother
’
s football uniform. I got this suit, which better serve multiple purposes this year: graduation, interviews... I haven
’
t splurged at all, until tonight. And if this is what I want to spend it on–if
you
are what I choose to spend it on–please let me.
”

“
It
’
s too much, though,
”
I whisper to him.

“
It
’
s not.
”

“
I could pay for my part.
”

“
Your dad already offered that, and I
’
ve already declined that offer. Just because you have money doesn
’
t mean you have to get stuck with the bill.
”

“
I just think there are probably better things for you to spend the money on, that
’
s all.
”

“
My dad probably wouldn
’
t have thought so. I guarantee you, he
’
s up there right now cheering me on. I
’
m on a date with the prettiest, smartest, most talented girl in the city. He wouldn
’
t want me to screw this up.
”

“
But–
”

He presses his finger to my lips.
“
Shhh.
”
I wrap my fingers around his, eventually holding his hand in the middle of the table.

“
I just want you to know that we could have gone for that four block walk and I would have been happy. I don
’
t need this, okay? I
’
m not accustomed to some privileged lifestyle. I like people who like me for who I am as a person, and not because I was adopted by some wealthy philanthropist and his wife. My life isn
’
t perfect. My
dad
isn
’
t perfect. I guess most people think I
’
m lucky that he found me, but he has a lot of flaws that people don
’
t see. I don
’
t always feel so lucky.
”

“
I don
’
t think you
’
re lucky. There
’
s nothing lucky about a little girl losing both of her biological parents before she was even old enough to retain memories of them.
”

“
Right,
”
I whisper.

“
Jack and Emi, they
’
re the lucky ones.
”

“
Right,
”
I laugh sarcastically.

“
No, you
’
re right. They
’
re not lucky, either. They were smart. They saw something special in you, and they chose you to be in their lives.
”

“
Choisie
,
”
I say to him.

“
Choisie
,
”
he repeats, glancing only briefly at the necklace.
“
I
’
m the lucky one.
”

“
How so?
”

“
I
’
m the only guy in the city you
’
re on a date with tonight. That seems pretty lucky to me.
”

“
Well, for the record, I feel pretty lucky tonight for that, too.
”

“
So we can stay and have dinner?
”

“
Yeah, we
’
ll stay,
”
I tell him, looking back down at the prix fixe menu.

“
Good.
”

Morris comes back over once we
’
ve both set the menus in the middle of the table. We tell him our orders and our drinks arrive just as he walks away.

“
Two virgin rum and cokes,
”
the waiter says, setting them down.

“
Why do they keep calling them that?
”
I ask Jon.

“
I don
’
t know. Maybe
it
’
s
to elevate the ambiance. Doesn
’
t it make you feel older?
”

“
Maybe. Why do they call it virgin, anyway?
”
My voice gets softer as I say the word.

“
It
’
s pure,
”
he answers.
“
Untouched. In this instance, by alcohol.
”

“
It just seems like there are better words.
”