"I'm glad you came," I told him. "It wouldn't be the same without all of us here." Nothing bonded people like almost being murdered. Not to mention finding employee spread around a restaurant floor. And walls. And tables.
"They're making Harlow's famous meatballs tonight," Cass supplied.
"Smells good already," Jules admitted.
He was right, it did. The aromas wafting from the kitchen made my stomach gurgle with appreciation. Tonight's dinner would be a combination of old dishes and new, a hint of the former owner (not literally) and a whole lot of...me.
Also not literally.
As people shuffled in and made their way to their tables, a flutter of nerves passed through me. What if they didn't like the new menu? What if they ate here tonight and never came back?
"Everything is going to be perfect," Cass said.
Apparently I was wearing my thoughts on my face clear as day. I was usually better at masking my emotions. These four men must have found a way past those walls. At least they'd put ladders up so they could peek over the top.
"I know it will," I said, choking back unexpected emotion. "We've all worked hard to get here. I guess I'm a bit overwhelmed, that's all."
Was that a tear I wiped from underneath my eye? I wasn't usually a crier. I also didn't usually reopen a restaurant previously owned by my enemy, so I guessed it was a night for firsts.
"I bet Solomon Danforth is rolling over in his grave," Boner grinned.
If he had a grave. As far as I knew, he'd been cremated and his ashes scattered somewhere significant to his family. Just as well. I wouldn't put it past these guys, Boner in particular, to take a piss on his grave if they knew where it was.
Killing someone was one thing. Desecrating their grave was another. A girl had to draw the line somewhere. Apparently that was where I drew mine.
"He's not here, is he?" Jules looked around suspiciously, as if he might find a vase of ashes sitting on a shelf somewhere. Or a finger bone pointing in the direction of the toilets. Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. Not a real one though. That might make people a little suspicious.
"Only in spirit," I assured him.
Assuming spirits could stick their heads up from hell and have a look around at the pieces of their old lives. If that was the case, I mentally stuck up both my middle fingers at him.
Look who won,I thought.
He was dead and I was sitting at a very nice table in a very nice restaurant that used to have his name on the door.
"Success is the best revenge," Archer said.
"It really is," I agreed.
It was a shame Erin wasn't here to see it. To some extent, it was a shame Gina wasn't here to see it either, because fuck her for betraying me. Hopefully she had a nice little vantage point from hell as well. Maybe she was sitting on Solomon's shoulders, telling him what she could see.
For some, those might be morbid thoughts, but for me, it was triumph. For now.
We still had to deal with?—
"Hans Getzoff," Cass said suddenly.
"Lucky him. I mean where?" Boner asked, swiveling around in his seat.
"He just came through the door." Cass nodded.
I tried not to turn around and stare, but I ventured a glance back.
Getzoff stood with a woman around my age, both dressed to the nines like they were looking forward to a nice night out.
Hopefully that was all this was.
I tore my eyes away from him as he and his partner approached the table.
