Page 66 of Cold Carnage

I walked up to the hostess stand, my heels clicking softly on the polished floor. The hostess, a young woman with neatly pinned hair and a bright smile, looked up as I approached.

"Good evening," I said, offering a polite nod. "I'm meeting Gideon Strong here."

The hostess's eyes widened slightly, and she blushed. "Of course. You must be Ms. Adams. Right this way." She led me through the restaurant, weaving between elegantly set tables and diners engaged in quiet conversation.

As we reached Gideon's table, I saw him already seated, looking composed as always. The hostess gestured toward an empty chair with a slight bow. He looked up as I walked over, giving a brief nod of acknowledgment before returning to whatever urgent matter occupied his screen.

I took a seat across from him, trying not to feel out of place in this fancy setting. The menu lay in front of me, an array of dishes with names that seemed more art than food.

Gideon finally set his phone down and looked at me.

Before I could say a word, a waiter appeared at our table, pouring a glass of wine with practiced precision. The deep red liquid swirled into the glass, catching the dim light of the restaurant.

"Good evening," the waiter began, his voice smooth and polished. "May I recite tonight's specials for you?"

I nodded, trying to focus on his words as he listed off dishes that sounded more like poetry than food. Seared scallops with truffle-infused beurre blanc, rack of lamb with rosemary jus, something called a 'consommé' that I had only vaguely heard of. Half of it went over my head.

Gideon glanced at me briefly before turning to the waiter. "Just bring us the artichoke dip as an appetizer," he said, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

"Of course," the waiter replied with a nod before disappearing back into the flow of the restaurant.

I picked up my menu and pretended to study it, though the words seemed to blur together. The tension from earlier stillhung between us like an unspoken challenge. Gideon’s calm demeanor did nothing to ease my nerves.

"Paige," Gideon finally said, his voice breaking through my thoughts. "We need to discuss the event strategy."

I looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were steady, assessing me in a way that made me feel both scrutinized and important.

"Yes," I replied, trying to match his composure. "I've outlined a detailed plan for media engagement and sponsor interaction. I believe it will maximize our reach and impact."

He nodded slowly, as if weighing my words. "Good. We can't afford any slip-ups this time."

His words carried an unspoken weight. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders.

"There won't be any," I assured him, my voice firm. "I've learned from Michigan. This will be different."

He studied me for a moment longer before picking up his wineglass and taking a sip. The silence stretched out between us, filled with unspoken history and future expectations.

Finally, he set the glass down and leaned back in his chair. "Let's hope so."

The waiter returned, interrupting the charged silence between us. He stood poised, ready to take our orders.

"I'll have the pasta," I said, hoping it would be similar to spaghetti.

The waiter nodded, jotting down my choice before turning to him.

"I'll have the pan-seared duck breast," he said without looking at the menu. "Make sure it's medium-rare. I want the skin crispy but not burnt, and please use the cherry reduction instead of the usual orange glaze."

The waiter nodded, jotting down the details with a practiced hand. "Very well, sir. Anything else?"

Hen glanced at me briefly before shaking his head. "No, that will be all for now."

The waiter left us alone again, and his attention returned to me, his expression serious. I took a sip of my water, trying to steady myself.

"About the back-to-school event," he began, leaning forward slightly. "We need to ensure that all our key sponsors feel adequately represented. I don't want any complaints afterward."

"I've already started coordinating with them," I replied, my voice steady. "Each sponsor will have their own booth, and I've scheduled time slots for media interactions to give them maximum exposure."

Gideon nodded approvingly. "Good. What about security? We can't afford any disruptions."

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