Page 74 of The Villains We Make

“You look better than the last time,” I tell him.

“Understatement.”

“I’m hungry,” Gordon says. “It’s a rarity these days. Who’s hungry? If we don’t get out of this place, that one will have me drinking a green juice.” He points to his nurse.

“I guess I could eat something,” Ophelia says.

“Do you remember the French toast? It was your favorite,” Horatio says.

“It’s probably too late for breakfast.”

“They’ll make anything you want. Let’s go eat. We’re both too skinny to pass up sugary bread drenched in butter and syrup,” Gordon says with a smile I don’t expect.

“But the press is down there,” Ophelia says. “We can do room service. That’s fine.”

“We’ll eat in the restaurant like civilized people,” Gordon says. “Besides, any one of them sets foot inside the hotel and they’ll be arrested,” the old man says as he wheels himself to the elevator.

“Ah. That’s why they’re outside.”

“I’ve rented out the whole damn place. The kind of money I’m dropping, they’ll do as I say.”

Ophelia and I exchange a look as the elevator doors open and we all climb on, Gordon’s nurse pushing his chair. It is eerily silent as we enter the large, empty restaurant where too many waiters stand around trying to look busy.

“Mr. Carlisle-Bent, right this way,” the head waiter says and leads us to the best table. It’s the one that stands at the very back by the French doors that overlook the gardens which are currently under a layer of slushy snow. Just beyond is the swimming pool, which is covered this time of year.

We’re seated around the table, Ophelia between Horatio and Gordon. She looks at me and I smile.

“French toast all around with juice and coffee,” Gordon tells the waiter.

“Right away, sir.”

The man hurries off and Gordon turns to Ophelia.

She looks at him, then at Horatio. “I have to say, I did not expect to see you two together.”

Horatio draws a deep breath in. Gordon glances at him then at Ophelia before commenting. “I lured your father in. I think it was the last thing he expected. Isn’t that right, Horatio?”

Horatio forces a tight smile. I watch them both closely. “Lure is a kind way of saying it. The old man doesn’t leave much room for no.”

“Old man. Hah. Watch your mouth.” Gordon turns to Ophelia. “I faulted Horatio for things he was not at fault for for a very long time. I wanted to be sure he knew that I knew I was wrong.”

I raise my eyebrows, and Ophelia looks as surprised as I feel.

“I’m dying. When you’re dying, clarity comes easier, and you no longer mince words. Don’t have the luxury of time,” he says.

The waiter comes with coffee, juice and water, interrupting the moment. Once he’s gone, Gordon pours about a liter of cream into his coffee before picking it up.

“Besides, we had a common goal concerning Chandler,” he says, then sips loudly from his mug.

I look to Horatio, who seems to be taking special care with preparing his coffee and avoiding eye contact with any of us.

“Speaking of Chandler?” I ask. “Where is he?”

“He won’t bother Ophelia again,” Gordon says with a small smile.

“Because of your contract? I’m not sure he’s going to hold up his end of the bargain,” I say, because the other night at The Grande is evidence of that.

“No, you’re right.” He smiles. “He had the opportunity, but that boy will cut off his nose to spite his face. I was wrong about his greed being the overwhelming driver.”

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