Page 65 of Save Me

This is my first time visiting Sebastian Blackmon’s premiere restaurant here in Williamsport. Though he doesn’t live here full time, he conducts a lot of business in the city and visits regularly.

The host leads me to the private dining area behind the cherry wood doors.

“Dae, thank you for joining us on such short notice,” a member of the Global Group offers as I enter the room.

I nod at the group of men gathered around a large, circular table at the center of the room.

“We’ve already ordered our drinks. Will red wine do?” Will, one of the Global Group partners, asks.

“That’s fine.” I take my seat.

The waiter halfway fills a glass of red wine and places it in front of me.

“Shall we talk about the purpose of this meeting?” I cut to the chase.

“Slow down, Dae.” Will laughs. “You’ve just been served your drink. Besides, Sebastian hasn’t arrived yet. He called to let us know he has a meeting that’s running late. He should be here soon.”

“I presume that since this meeting is taking place at his restaurant, you’ve all already made your decision,” I reply in an icy cold tone. If that’s the case, I don’t need to waste my time with this.

“We have made a decision,” John, another of the company’s partners, says. “But it’s not what you’re thinking. We’ll get into the details soon. For now, let’s enjoy our meal.”

As soon as he finishes, two waiters enter, rolling a silver cart of food. I watch as they uncover plates of warm oysters in a cream sauce, beef tartare, and grilled lobster salad, allowing each person to choose their starter.

For the sake of playing nice, I opt for the lobster salad. One of the men starts out with small talk about how he’s wanted to eat here for months.

“This restaurant has been around for five years,” I point out.

Will looks at me.

I give a light shrug. “Five years is a long time to wait.”

“There’s often a waiting list,” one of the other men says.

“For five years?”

He blinks but doesn’t answer.

I think about the half-empty dining room I walked through. Yes, it’s six, and the dinner crowd doesn’t pick up for another hour, but based on what I’ve seen, I’m not convinced this place has a waiting list that long.

“Le Vie is often named one of the best French restaurants in the city,” Will contends. “They’ve been able to hold that distinction multiple years in a row.”

“Good for them.” Sarcasm drips from my tone.

“How is Taehyun?” another group member asks. “Is there any chance he’ll make it over from Korea soon for a visit?”

I start to answer, but the door opens. Sebastian Blackmon, the owner of Le Vie, walks in.

“Gentleman,” he greets, a huge grin on his face and his arms outstretched. Blackmon is in his early fifties, with graying hair and a stocky build at about five-six height. Despite his stature, he’s often the loudest person in the room.

“Please allow me to extend my apologies for being late. You know how it is,” he says before looking my way. “Dae,” he claps, his smile widening, “old friend, we finally get to see one another again.”

He comes over to my side of the table. “Dae and I go back years, don’t we?” he asks, clapping me on the shoulder.

I glance at his hand on me and then back up at his face. He quickly removes his hand.

Good.

“My uncle,” I correct. I turn to the rest of the table. “Sebastian and my uncle had a business relationship.”

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