“Hmm.” I flipped through the menu out of habit more than anything else. I already knew what I was going to order. “Should I not mention the private helicopter tour I booked for later, then?”
Her laugh faded when I raised an eyebrow.
“Dante.You didn’t.”
“You’re engaged to a Russo. It’s how we do things. The diner is…” I paused, searching for the right sentiment. “A walk down memory lane. That’s all.”
I was supposed to play tennis with Dominic today, but when Vivian tried to leave that morning, all I’d wanted was for her to stay. A date at the diner had been the first thing that popped into my head.
The helicopter idea came later, and that only took one call to set up.
“I like it. It’s charming.” Vivian gave me a mischievous smile. “Please tell me you took advantage of the jukebox when you were younger. I would kill for a photo of twelve-year-old you drinking a milkshake and dancing.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but that’s not gonna happen. I’m not a jukebox kinda guy. Not even when I was prepubescent.”
“I’m not surprised, but you could’ve let a girl dream a little longer,” she said with a sigh.
Our server arrived. I stuck with my trusty black-and-white shake while Vivian wavered between the strawberry and peanut butter and chocolate.
I sat back, oddly charmed by the little furrow in her brow as she pored over the menu.
Yesterday, I’d been in D.C., meeting with Christian and discussing how to take down Francis Lau. Now here I was, taking his daughter for pancakes and milkshakes like we were suburban teenagers on a first date.
Life had a fucked up sense of humor.
Vivian finally decided on the strawberry, and I waited until our server left before I spoke again.
“What’s the work crisis you mentioned earlier?”
This time, Vivian’s sigh was heavier. “The original venue for the Legacy Ball got flooded.” She gave me a quick rundown of what happened, her shoulders growing increasingly tense the longer she spoke.
It was a shitty situation. Venues of that size and caliber booked out months, if not years, in advance. Finding one at this late date was like trying to find a lake in the desert.
“Did you try the museums?” I asked. Places like the Met and the Whitney regularly hosted charity galas and balls.
“Yes. Their calendars are full.”
“I could make a call. Free up a spot.”
“No.” Vivian shook her head. “I don’t want to put anyone else in the same spot I’m in by making the museum cancel on them.”
Typical Vivian. I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or exasperated.
“The New York Public Library?” I suggested.
“Also booked.”
Apparently, all the usual suspect hotels were also out.
I rubbed a thumb over my bottom lip, thinking. “You could host it at Valhalla.”
Vivian’s eyebrows winged up. “They don’t allow outside events.”
“No, but the Legacy Ball is extremely prestigious. Most, if not all, members will be there. They’d consider it if I asked them.”
The managing committee would throw a fucking tantrum about it, but I could convince them.
Maybe.