Mason, Jamie - The Hidden Things by Mason Jamie

Author:Mason, Jamie [Mason, Jamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

* * *

Owen slid into the padded booth he’d been escorted to by the black-clad hostess. The table was a glossy expanse of dark wood that would have adequately seated six. The glass-globed candle burning at the far end was still a stretch away, even for a man with a seven-foot wingspan. The setup would be elbow-room overload for a party of four, an embarrassment of riches in dining real estate for two. But it was the only kind of table they had here, a subliminal suggestion at the outset that you’d already been pampered before they’d served you a single thing.

The whole place was a bit dim and romantic for an appointment like this. A Waffle House would have served Jonathan better. Safer. Owen would have stood out more. But he figured that Jonathan hadn’t thought it all the way through. Jonathan wanted to impress him. With what? His good taste in slick suburban quick-eats?

Another restaurant ninja materialized at his side. “Hello. I’m Courtney and I’ll be taking care of you this afternoon. Can I start you off with one of our craft cocktails or a glass of wine from our Reserve Select collection?”

“Black coffee is fine, thank you. I’m meeting someone.”

“Of course.”

She disappeared without so much as a rustle. The place had the acoustics of a sponge.

Owen took out his phone and sent a text to Jonathan: I’m here. You’re late. He set the phone faceup on the table and waited. He wouldn’t have made it to ten if he’d bothered to count. The silenced phone lit up and shimmied in a fit of vibration. He ignored it.

Courtney reappeared with a glass of ice water. She stopped midway to setting it down as the phone burred like a drill on the table. “Do you need to get that?”

“No.” The call went dead, then almost immediately rang its angry droning again against the wooden continent between them. He looked at the hovering glass of water and back into Courtney’s questioning eyes.

Across her face he read the confusion of a young person who couldn’t comprehend not responding to an electronic summons.

“Is that for me?” he asked about the glass in her hand.

“Oh! Yes. Of course. Sorry.” She put down a napkin and the water he didn’t want.

Courtney was a psychic. She shrugged and nodded, apology already glowing in her cheeks. “I brought that just in case you were thirsty while you waited. They’re brewing fresh coffee.”

“That’s fine. Thank you.”

“Would you like to hear about today’s special features and our boat-to-table catch of the day?”

Owen liked eye contact, and never more than when his focus met up with that of someone who didn’t know what to do with it. It was one-stop shopping for a quick dose of entertainment. Drama, tragedy, horror, comedy. Poor Courtney.

“No. The coffee is all.”

“Oh. Sure. Okay. No problem. That’s fine.” Courtney stammered through every expression of cooperation she could think of while Owen blinked over her efforts.

“Don’t worry. I tip well.”

“No! You don’t have to. I mean, I wasn’t expecting .

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