Chapter 7: The Seat

I stayed on my feet.

"Eleven years is a long time to sit in one chair," I said. "I'd hate to wear it out."

Sinead Hartung looked at me for the first time.

Her bored face moved, just slightly.

"It's a terrible chair," she said. "Take it."

"Sinead," Odessa said.

"It's got a draft, Odessa. You know it does."

She walked around the table and took the plain black DVORAK card from three seats down.

She set it in front of the good chair on Rafferty's right.

Then she sat in my old seat and shook out her napkin.

"I've wanted to be down there all year," she said, to nobody. "Hello. I'm Sinead."

"Lacey."

"I know. We're going to get along."

Rafferty pulled out my chair himself.

When I sat, his hand brushed my shoulder and stayed one second longer than a guest's would.

Soup came.

It was a cold green thing with a swirl of cream.

Odessa spoke into it without looking up.

"Tell me, Miss Dvorak. What is it you want?"

The table went quiet.

Tobias leaned back, lazy, with his wineglass held in two fingers.

"From my nephew?" I asked.

"From any of us."

"A spoon that isn't this small," I said, and Sinead coughed into her napkin.

Odessa put her own spoon down.

"I'll be plain."

"My nephew is a man of considerable means, and he has an unfortunate habit of being kind to strays."

"I'd like to know your price before the dessert course."

My face went hot, and I kept it still.

"Forty-one thousand, two hundred dollars," I said.

Tobias laughed out loud.

"I'm sorry. Forty thousand?"

"Forty-one thousand, two hundred. My ex took it from my account on Thursday. I'd like the rest of it back."

"That's what you want from the Wexley family?" Tobias said, wiping his eye.

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