I was late for my date with Daniel.

Just enough time had passed in the real world for me to miss it by more than an hour. I rushed to Broussard’s on Conti. I really needed to get myself some modern amenities: a watch and a smartphone for instance. I really missed both.

Back when I was Vanessa Hunter, I was practically married to my smartphone. Running a company left me very little time to myself and so the smartphone was a way for me to keep track of the ins-and-outs of running Hunter Robotics. I could kill for access to a smartphone right about now.

Part of me remembered the hustle. It was very much a part of who I was, the Vanessa Hunter that was very much still a part of me. It hadn’t been easy to slide into obscurity; into this new life of relative unknown.

Still, this new existence brought its fair share of challenges, and though I wasn’t entirely ready to admit it, my most recent run-in with the demon Azazel had left me feeling stretched more than just a bit beyond my comfort zone.

I had spaced out again, I realized.

I found myself staring right at the beautifully laid out sign at Broussard’s, and the restaurant itself, with its peach-colored facade, wrought-iron roof and ebony columns. I couldn’t recall why exactly it was that I knew the difference between a Dorian column and a Corinthian column, but I just did. Blame it on Dad and his many lessons, or blame it on good ole’ Vanessa Hunter and my insatiable appetite for learning.

I was a lifelong learner. Even back then, when most children of the elite were content to play croquet or shoot rifles at random targets, all the while yelling ‘Pull!’ while idly talking about the stock market and how the latest venture they were funding was doing, I focused on books instead, choosing a variety of topics to become good at. I was fairly antisocial in my younger days. Dad was inwardly a social deviant, and I supposed a part of that rubbed off on me, even if just a little.

Donnie Hunter enjoyed the darker side of life. Among the many unhealthy obsessions he had given his daughter was the interest in the occult; in things not of this world. Angels and Demons, and everything in between. I guess that interest is paying off now. If only Dad could see me now.

I tried to make myself look presentable before walking in. I smoothed my dark, frilly dress and did my best to look sharp. I had decided against wearing white, just in case I ran into a Rina or an Azazel again. I had to make an emergency stop at Death’s little boutique, but he was more than happy to help prep me for my big date. I prayed that Daniel was a patient man. An hour was a long time to wait for a complete stranger.

Broussard’s was an iconic New Orleans restaurant. Built in the 1920’s, the restaurant’s edifice was an eclectic pastiche of various artistic structures. The original proprietor, Joseph Broussard, had an intense fascination with Napoleon Bonaparte, and that influence permeated throughout the restaurant to this day. From the rich wallpaper to the carefully selected and finely arranged furniture. But the food was what drew the clientele in, of course.

The maitre’d greeted me as I walked in door.

“What can I do for you this evening, Madame?” he smiled with an affable old world charm. It reminded me of a certain someone whose company I must admit I was glad to be rid off, if not momentarily.

“I have a reservation under Daniel Ashcroft,” I said.

The maitre’d smiled. “Ah, yes, he has been waiting for a while. He’s seated himself at the outdoor patio.” He motioned to one of the waitstaff, a pretty blonde in a clean, smart, but nonetheless tight-fitting uniform that complemented her exceptionally well. The waitress smiled at me as she responded to the summons.

The maitre’d motioned toward the waitress. “Jenny here will show you where to go.”

I followed Jenny into the inside of Broussard’s, past the great chandelier in the main hall. Elegantly restored to greatness, with a style that was both European and Creole, no expense had been spared in making sure the restaurant lived up to its rich history. The restaurant was bustling with activity this evening; the Napoleon room was full, guests talked animatedly, and there was laughter all around.

Jenny deftly navigated the tables of the Napoleon room, taking great care to smile and say a few kind words to the restaurant’s patrons. She was no newcomer. Jenny was an experienced member of the Broussard’s team. Come to think of it, I might have remembered her from the few times I went here with Daniel.

I wondered then, almost with guilt, if Jenny remembered seeing a blonde girl that was with Daniel just months ago. I didn’t kid myself in the least: Daniel was not an easy person to forget. Handsome, tall, well-spoken, with just the right build, and that perfectly square and chiseled jawline and the dark hair that was always well groomed. Not to forget those piercing dark eyes, that were to die for.

No, I did not doubt in the least that Daniel left an impression on the ladies wherever it was he went.

Still, my heart pounded with the giddy excitement of a little girl right before her first pony-ride.

I remember the endless days we spent playing together. Daniel and I had learned to ride together. I remember when we were small and the helmet barely fit Daniel’s head. And I laughed at him endlessly, until I put the helmet on myself and found that it was more than just a smidgen too large for me too. And Daniel had a lot of fun with that. Way too much fun at my expense at the time.

And so I cheated.

When you’re a little girl up against a little boy, you have one secret weapon: you can cry. And when you do, the odds get immediately stacked in your favor. And I was ruthless back in the day. I remember milking that at every possible opportunity. The moment I realized that Daniel was vulnerable to my tears, there was no stopping me.

It was like Kryptonite to Daniel back then. All I had to do was stifle a few sobs, and the battle was won. I had to start with that, because it wasn’t easy getting crocodile tears to come on back then. Over the years, I got better at it, but make no mistake. Vanessa Hunter certainly got her way.

We finally reached the outside of Broussard’s. The tables were laid out elegantly, using the pink and peach motif found on the inside of the Napoleon room.  Candles were lit and in the growing darkness, it was quite romantic. Beautiful lanterns carried light around, the small flames like the glow of fireflies in the darkness, the soft light inviting, making everything appear as if it were a dream.

And what a dream it was.

As I crossed the beautiful flagstone pavers, I spotted Daniel seated at one of the tables on the far end. He had chosen a nice spot, closer to the trees. It was one of those things that only Vanessa would notice.

Well done, Daniel.

But I guess seated was a loose term. Slumped was more like it. He already had an empty bottle of Louis Jadot Gevrey-Chambertin on the table and was about a quarter of the way through a second bottle. Pinot Noir was one of my favorites. I guess he had me all figured out now.

Jenny smiled at me and said, “Please, make yourself at home. I will be right with you to take your order shortly.”

The outdoors was crowded too, but at least the tables were spaced farther out.

I went to Daniel and touched his arm. He looked at me dimly, but his eyes widened when he realized it was me.

“I thought you had stood me up, Haley,” he said.

“I got held up, I am very sorry. I’d have called, but I lost my cellphone back at Jackson Square where you found me. And besides, I don’t have your number.”

Daniel chuckled at that one. “Well, at least you’ve spared me the blow to my ego by making it out eventually. I was beginning to wonder if you’d played a cruel joke on me somehow.”

I smiled. “I’d never do that to the gentleman who so very kindly rescued me from my plight.”

Daniel beamed and produced a set of menus.

I sighed. “Tell me you’ve at least had something to eat while you were waiting for me.” I pretended to look sad.

Daniel dismissed it with a flourish. “Nah, I wasn’t that hungry. Besides, they have very good wines here, I practically forgot to eat.”

I know, Daniel. I’ve been here just as many times as you have.

I tried to shake the thought and carefully looked through the menu I had practically memorized.

“Just let me know if you’d like a few recommendations,” said Daniel. “Though I wouldn’t doubt that you’d know your way around Broussard’s too.”  he added.

I smiled. “I’ve been here a few times.”

I decided to throw Daniel in for a loop: staring at the menu, pretending to be deep in thought.  

“Broiled Redfish Broussard.” I said with a smile, as I pointed toward the dish in the menu.

Daniel looked puzzled, and he very well should be. It was the one thing on the menu Vanessa Hunter never ordered.

Daniel cleared his throat. “Are you, uh… are you sure Haley?”

I smiled. “Yes! It’s my absolute favorite.”

I didn’t mind it to be honest, but it truly wasn’t my favorite.

“How’d your day go?” I asked.

“Oh man, first date and you’re already asking me how my day went,” said Daniel.

I shrugged. “It’s a fair question.”

“I suppose it is Haley,” said Daniel with a smile. “Ok, well, my family owns a pharmaceutical firm. I’m sure Richard’s told you about that - he’s extraordinarily good at briefing his clients when he wants to.”

I nodded and smiled. “Yes, he is.”

“To be honest, most of my day constitutes putting out small fires and taking care of good clients. It really isn’t anything to write home about.”

Ok, now that he’s left himself vulnerable, let’s press.

“So, what do you think of Hunter Robotics?”

Daniel nearly choked on his Pinot Noir.

“Excuse me?”

“You should know all about it, right? After all it was your fiance’s company.”

Daniel sighed, his beautiful dark eyes looked forlorn.

“And why would you want to know about that, Haley?”

I shrugged. “I dunno, Richard said I should look into it.”

Jenny came back at just the right moment.

Before she could even open her mouth, I handed her my menu. “Two Broiled Fish Broussards,” I said at the surprised Jenny. “We both want the same thing.”

I knew Daniel hated that dish just as much as I did.

That forlorn look crossed Daniel’s face again. The only thing that would have made this better was if I had cried.

Daniel waited until Jenny was out of earshot. “How did you know I would like your order?”

“I didn’t,” I said with a smile. “Don’t tell me you don’t like fish dishes.”

“Well...it’s not really like that,” began Daniel.

I feigned a hurt look on my face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ordered for you, let’s take the order back.”

Daniel sighed. “It’s ok, Haley. I like fish.”

Daniel was an interesting character. He was often misunderstood. He was a gentle soul, my Daniel, but tough as nails in most situations. His reputation was formidable in business circles. My Daniel was no pushover. I knew of only two people who could play Daniel the way he was being played at this moment: Vanessa Hunter, and Haley Wellington.

“As for my question?”  I continued to press Daniel.

“Yes,” Daniel admitted. “I know about the company. How could I not know about Vanessa Hunter’s company?”

“Are you a shareholder?”

Daniel sighed. “No, not to any great extent,” he said.

“What about Rutherford Capital Holdings, LLC?”

“Look, Haley, I don’t know what conspiracy theories Richard’s been feeding you, but I assure you they aren’t true.”

I smiled. “I’m sorry Daniel. I didn’t mean to bring business up on the first date,” I said, smiling as prettily as I could. “More Pinot?” I asked as I raised the bottle in front of him.

“Why not?”  said Daniel.

I poured him a glass slowly and deliberately.  “Ok, look, it’s your turn to ask me questions,” I said.

Daniel smiled. “You said you were from Winnetka. Did you go to New Trier?”

Touche Daniel. I would have to lie from here on out.

“Yes,” I said. “I went to New Trier.”

“What years? You probably knew a lot of the same folks I did.”

Dammit Daniel.

“Doubt it,” I said. “I was one of those shy and reserved types back then. I never really stood out.”

“Well, surely I’d remember someone so pretty,” Daniel countered.

“Like I said, I wasn’t much of a stand out.” I said, as I shrugged.

The evening dragged on. We talked about many things, Daniel and I. It wasn’t hard for me to guide the conversation of course, considering how much I knew about Daniel, and all things considered, the man needed little goading. As far as I was concerned, he had practically made up his mind about Haley Wellington.

“Daniel?” I asked cautiously.

“Have you ever heard murmurs among your contacts about someone who might be interested in a very specific set of patents that Hunter Robotics possessed?”

Daniel’s brow furrowed. His composure changed. The businessman in Daniel had awakened. He shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I have,” he said.

“When Vanessa was alive, she was very interested in a particular division within Hunter Robotics, the nanotech division. Have you ever heard of anyone who might be interested in that?”

Daniel stiffened up. “How would you know about something like that, Haley?” he sounded a little angry.

I knew it was risky, but I needed to know.

I need to know if you were involved in my murder, Daniel.

I shrugged. “I’m a woman of resources,” I said. “It would only make sense that I hear about these types of things, I’m sure someone in your position would as well.”

“At the dinner, I saw you and Richard talking to Rina Tanaka. Could she be behind the questions you’re asking me?”

I laughed. “Believe me, Daniel, Rina Tanaka does not exactly show affection for me.”

“Well, you two were pretty cozy at the dinner,” said Daniel.

I let the matter rest. I didn’t want to drive Daniel away. I would bide my time and find another way.

As the evening drew on, I noticed something odd. There was a tall gentleman seated at the far end, whose attention always seemed to wander in my direction. It was hard to see in the dark, but he looked older, more distinguished with graying hair. He could be good looking, but it was hard to tell from afar. He had seated himself near one of the brick archways. It was smart, I decided because that position offered a view of both the Napoleon rooms as well as the rest of Broussard’s.

But my eye caught his far too many times for it to be coincidence. I was almost about to get up and find out why exactly he found me so fascinating, when Jenny came by and broke the ice.

She was carrying an ice-cold bottle of Moet & Chandon Cuvee Rose, the light pink of the bottle’s contents glowed warmly in the dim light.

“The gentleman seated at that table wanted to give you this,” she said, as she pointed to the man across the patio. He waved at me, stood up, and left.  

I found that rather odd, and so did Daniel. “What was that all about?” he asked.

“Not a clue,” I said. “I don’t know him.”

“Do you often get admirers?”

I smiled coyly. “Not that often, but it does happen.”

“I’m sorry to intrude,” said Jenny. “The man also wanted me to hand you this,” she said as she handed me a small, sealed black envelope.

I opened it and inside was a small business card. The card itself was unassuming, nothing to be impressed about. A short note was scribbled in front. The author of the message went right to the point.

“I know who killed you.”

The back of the card read: “Old Absinthe House 240 Bourbon St.”

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