right.â Whit looked at his son with something approaching fondness. âI remember: cabernets. A strange thing for a California boy, but I donât disapprove. I seem to remember they have some very nice native ones hereâ¦.â He took out a pair of reading glasses and buried his nose in the wine list.
Brian sighed. At least his father seemed a
little
nervous despite his posturing. It had been several months since they had really spent any time together outside the dusty walls of the Orderâs chapter house. The older man looked more or less the same, maybe a little tanner, maybe his jowls were just a little bit tighter. He had said something about taking up squash or tennis. He was a large man, imposing, with an utterly patrician face and a nose that was large enough to make him look regal but sharp enough so that he looked like he was something other than a hundred percent Italian. Only his easy olive tan betrayed a Mediterranean origin.
His
outfit was impeccable, a several-thousand-dollar Armani suit that fit so well with the shirt, the cuff links, the tie, and the shoes that except for the slight paunch, Brianâs dad could have been a model for some older menâs magazine. Whitney Rezza was a living embodiment of taste and wealth well spent.
âDad,â Brian said, clearing his throat, âI think we should consider me leaving the Order.â
His father looked over the wine list at him.
âDonât be absurd.â
Brian had thought long and hard, and the best thing he could do for Chloe now was to cut all ties with the organization that was bent on killing her. Whatever happened between the two of them, he would be free of the Tenth Blade, and Chloe would feel confident that she could trust him.
But that was only partially it: this was also an opportunity for Brian to figure out what to do with his life. Which he knew, regardless of anything else, did not involve the Order of the Tenth Blade. At best it was a silly society of archaic rituals and secrecy; at worst it was a group of people devoted to killing other people. Either way, it was not going to be his lifeâs work.
âIâm serious, Dad. I want a career, an educationâI want a
life
â He ran his hand through his own thick dark hair, angry at his own nervousness.
âAll of those things are possible while you remain in the Order,â his father said, slowly setting the wine list down, âif thatâs what you really wish.â
âI want to
concentrate
on âthose things.â I donât want to have to run out of a final because of some emergency meeting the way Dicklessâuh, Dick did a couple of weeks ago.â
âRichard is an extremely devoted young man,âWhit said patronizingly. âHe is an exemplar for the Order.â
Then why donât you just adopt him and be done with it?
His fatherâs feelings toward Dick used to drive Brian up the wall; now he
wished
his dad was grooming the college student for eventual leadership. God knew he himself didnât want it.
Brian took a deep breath.
âDad,â he said patiently, âmost people
choose
to join the Order. Even Ednaââ
âThatâs
Mrs. Hilshire
to you, Brian.â
âEven fucking Mrs. Hilshireââ He stopped when his father gave him a warning look. âEven
she
gave her kids the choice. Evelyn chose to join, and William and Maurice didnât.â
âWell, I donât have the luxury of
three children
and the chances that
one
may follow in his fatherâs footsteps. I only have
you
.â
âItâs not my fault you only have one kid,â Brian snapped, his temper slowly getting the better of him.
âOh, is this where youâre about to blame me for the death of my own wife again?â his dad said, annoyingly lightly. âHow if it hadnât been for me, she would still be alive? How I might have had three kids, and you would get out
The Science of Leonardo: Inside the Mind of the Great Genius of the Renaissance