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Or maybe they never would be able to discuss that particular subject–Ari, and the night that had changed him. Terrible as the experience had been, long before the argument with Jordan, he’d come to wonder if the first Ari’s action hadn’t been a rescue. Jordan’s path wasn’t really what he wanted. He’d been set on being Jordan until that night. That night he’d become somebody else. He wasn’t sure who. But he’d become different.
Thank God. Or he’d have agreed with Jordan four nights ago and they’d all lose their licenses. This way–
“Ever eaten here?” Jordan asked him, over the menu.
“No,” Justin said. “Never have.” And the real question: “You haven’t?”
“Random choice. A yen for something different.” And still, typical Jordan, not a mention of the absent prices. He’d heard the night’s specials and not asked. He maintained a pleasant expression on his face–also pure Jordan. “Planys was a lot of the same thing.”
Play along: change the subject: keep it light. “Not many choices there, I’ll imagine.”
“Five. It got boring in the first month. There were actually six choices when I got there. Two of the restaurants consolidated. One changed the menu, oh, about five years on. The other one never did. One Greek, one Italian, one French, one Colonial, and one you couldn’t depend on. That was the excitement. That was our suspense, that fifth restaurant.”
It might be humor. Every piece of humor he’d heard from Jordan lately‑had had a bitter edge. But he dutifully laughed, trying to take it lighter. “Remember Illusions? It’s been through most of those choices. Now it’s New Era.”
“I’m afraid I’ve missed that delight, so far.”
“A lot of expensive spices. The real thing, I understand, imported. Some of them are pretty good. Some of them I’m not so sure about. But the steaks are consistently good.”
“We’ll have to try it. Anything new.”
“We can do that.” Justin meanwhile looked through the menu. “Angry Shrimp and Pell Bordeaux,” he said. Pell Bordeaux wasn’t going to be cheap. “Sounds interesting. I think I’ll do that.”
“Adventurous.” Jordan said, and added, darkly. “You must be rich.”
“Well, I secretly thought I’d treat my father.”
“I didn’t ask you here to soak my son for the tab.”
“Let me do it. It’s my pleasure.”
“They pay you pretty well for what you do.”
“I’ve been where you are. It ends. You’ll get back. All the way back. You’ll be treating me.” Fast change of subject. A cheerier one. “How’s it coming with the sets you did? Your own ones, that you were looking at–how they’ve developed over two, three decades? That’s got to be interesting.”
“Getting back into it, at least. I need an office.”
“Ya
“You’re rattling around in our old one.”
“We have staff,” Justin said. His guard was instantly up… God, he hated to be so paranoid. And he didn’t want to show it in his expression. But talking to Jordan lately was like walking through broken glass barefoot.
“Nice location. Convenient. And there’s room enough.”
Guard went way up.
“Not with staff. Sorry, Jordan, that won’t work.”
“Paul and I haven’t gotten all our Planys notes pried out of Security,” Jordan said glumly. “Our wardrobe’s barely made it through. You can see our splendor this evening. Pretty shabby stuff.”
“You’re fine.”
“Don’t suppose you can use your influence with the little darling to speed our stuff along.”
“I’ll ask, if you like.” He was glad the little darlingwas as far as the sarcasm about young Ari went in this venue. The walls had ears and even if they didn’t, he didn’t like Jordan dragging him into a proxy quarrel with Admin while half the Wing Directors and Agency heads in Reseune sat at the other tables. “Be genteel. Trust me. This time, trust me, and take my word for it. She’s not her genemother.”
“No?” Jordan feigned surprise. “After all they’ve done to be sure she is?”
The waiter arrived. Mercifully. The di
Justin gave his order. Grant ordered smoked salmon, a likely match for cost, Paul ordered boeuf a la maison and Jordan ordered a modest, all‑local caesar salad with blackened chicken.
“Saving room for dessert,” Jordan said when Justin frowned at his economy. “I noticed a cheesecake.”
“Sounds good,” Justin said–not tempted to believe Jordan was through with gestures this evening, no. Not once he’d started. And the waiter departed.
“So I’m going to impose on you,” Jordan said. “We need desk space. I’m sure they watch me. I’m sure they watch you. We can consolidate their job. Make them happy.”
“I’m telling you we have staff. Five staffers and us in that office. And security won’t let you in there.”
“So who’s important? Your clericals or your father?”
“I’m saying we need the staff. They have work to do.”
“Fine. Ask the little dear for space for them. I’m sure she’d find it. After all, she’s not stingy like her predecessor.”
“Jordan, give it up. You haven’t got your clearance. You’ll get it. But it’s still no, on the office.”
“I’m saying I’m going eetee locked into that living room. I can’t work in there. Put your spare clericals into our living room if you have to. You’re not even there five days a week. Who’s using the desks?”
It wasn’t an outrageous request–except it was his convenient Integrations computer access, which his staff used, which heused, dammit, for Ari’s lessons, and his father didn’thave clearance, or a license. His safe was there. His manuals were there. His projects were there–he didn’t keep those in their cubbyhole of a Wing One office.
“You’re not happy,” Jordan said. “ Sorry.”
“Look, if you want your office back…” Ya
“I would like that. Yes. I mean when I get the license back, for God’s sake. We can share. What happened to us working together?”
And his and Grant’s work with the G‑27, while not under security seal, had some bits in it he felt fairly proprietary about, and, no, dammit, he didn’t want another round of security investigations going through his notebooks, or Grant’s because Jordan was in there. More to the point, he didn’t want his fathergoing through his notes and appropriating anything he was working on.
No way in hell.
“I just don’t see why it’s an issue,” Jordan said with a wistful little frown. “Apply to move your staff out. I’m sure they’ll find a space somewhere.”
“It’s a little matter of convenience.”
“You know there arevirtual co
“You know the reasons I’m a little reluctant. Last Sunday night was a case in point.”
“Many fewer drinks in the office.”
“Listen, Jordan. My life is going perfectly fine. So could yours be, if you’d just put the brakes on a bit and get along with Ya
“Ya
“Dad. Don’t.”
“Have you caved in that far?”
He lowered his voice way down and leaned across the table. “And do you have to agitate Admin just to get a reaction? I don’t particularly want a reaction, thank you.”
“So the little dear issomething like her predecessor.”
Not sotto voce. Just normal conversation level, and not cooperating worth a damn. Justin found his pulse rate had gotten up, old familiar sensation. And he didn’t like it. “Well, there you have it, don’t you? We’re arguing again and I don’t think it would work, sharing an office. Look, I’ve had enough of investigations. I don’t want to be in the middle of another one. And get off the notion it’s Ari. It’s Ya