She paused for a second, because her face, in her real body, hadn't looked Caucasian much at all, being half Latino, but Katherine looked to be pure white and so did this woman. Since the woman caught her looking, Gwen waved a bit, then went back to eating, feeling self-conscious about it, knowing that everyone at the other table would be watching. It was just so awkward when people watched her chew food. For decades she'd basically refused to let anyone see her eat at all.
“Well... it seems we have... friends here,” she said, trying to smile.
Mr. Vernor looked over and nodded at a few of the men she didn't recognize, who nodded back.
“Financials reporters, most of them. The woman there is Deborah Winslow from SimStyl magazine... They... try to present famous people as enjoying the company of those of the same sex... I don't recognize the others, probably from rags. You know, bird-cage liners?” He'd kept his voice low, looking like he was about to get angry. “To follow us here like this. I've a mind to have them thrown out.”
Gwen shook her head at the man slightly and grinned, trying to convey that they could use this, if they worked it right. Not that she knew how to do that, of course, but she could see how it could be done in theory. Maybe.
They all kept eating carefully, the hamburger sat in her stomach like lead, even though it had actually been very good. What these people thought of as spicy barely touched on her idea of it. Even the Jalapeños were mild compared to what she'd have dumped all over a plate of nachos herself at home less than a month ago. They were tasty, compared to the fairly bland foods that had been served to her so far at least.
She asked Mr. Vernor to wave down the waitress when he got a chance, he saw the girl a few minutes later and called her over, starting to ask for the check, Gwen raised her hand a bit, interrupting him without speaking.
“...Or perhaps we don't need the bill just yet? Dear, you wanted to add something?” The dapper man looked at her directly.
“Yes... thank you.” She turned to the waitress and leaned closer to the girl, whispering, though everyone with her could hear.
“Could you have a serving of your best dessert delivered to each of the people at that table for me please? Really go all out on it. Then if you'd bring me the bill. That part's important, the whole bill for this, the desserts and the meal here, needs to come to me directly... Thank you.”
The waitress dimpled at her and spun to make it happen without asking any questions.
“Dear, I'm more than happy to pay.” Frowning, the older man had leaned over to whisper this to her.
“I know, and thank you. This is part of the plan. Just make sure to act proud of me when you hear it, even if it seems odd, OK?”
Both the Vernors nodded, looking concerned. Bethany pushed into her shoulder a little bit with her own, trying to get her attention.
“Could you induce a telepathic state. I want to eavesdrop on them for a few minutes, to see if any of them know who leaked things about you earlier...”
Gwen scooted over, whispering in her friend's ear for a few seconds, noticing that the slightly older looking blond female reporter perked up when she saw this. Gwen smiled at her and waved with her finger tips a bit again, getting even more attention from the lady.
None of the men at the table seemed to notice this interplay at all for some reason. Did they figure that nothing young women did would be all that important, or were they just being really polite and professional, not ogling the girls?
A few minutes later several trays with what looked like elaborate dishes of ice cream and pieces of cake came out, being carried by their waitress and several other people, including one man that seemed to be dressed as a chef, complete with funny white hat, that looked incredibly out of place for the theme. They off-loaded the desserts carefully, making sure each reporter got one, on the way back, the chef brought over his tray, which held one for each of the people at her table as well.
“Sir, ma'am... ladies. Please enjoy these, compliments of the house!” Waving to them with a small flourish, the chef bowed and left immediately, looking a bit proud of himself. When she took a small bite she understood why. The dessert had to be the best thing she'd had so far in this world. What looked like cake was actually halfway between that and pie, apples in a thickened sauce that allowed it to keep its shape. It was great, but not something she'd ever had before, so she didn't even know what to call it. The ice cream was vanilla, but had definitely been made by a professional, probably the chef himself. The other food had been good, but this dish had been made to impress, she realized. It worked on her at least.
After a few minutes, several of the reporters came over to ask questions, having taken the gift, and the fact that they hadn't run away while the reporters were being served, as a sign. One of them had something that looked like a camera and asked if he could take a few pictures. They all smiled at him, trying their best to look happy about it while he worked. After six shots though, a laughing Mr. Vernor called a stop to it.
“Alright, alright, that should do it for now!” He waved the man away, still smiling in case the fellow tried to snap a last shot as he backed off, Gwen realized. She made a point to remember that just in case this happened again sometime.
“So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company then?” He asked the reporters, all of whom had gathered round.
The questions started, Beth still smiling, as she'd been instructed to, absorbing what everyone thought as Gwen, this time with help from the Vernors, fielded the second round of questions for the day.
“Mr. Vernor, this seems an unlikely place for you to take your family for dinner, I mean, it's not exactly Charleston House, is it? You haven't fallen on hard times have you?” This came from a man that looked about forty, and had light brown, very thin, hair. He smiled when he asked the question and didn't sound too serious.
Before Mr. Vernor could speak Gwen smiled up at the man sweetly and started talking.
“Oh, this is one of Father's favorite places, and I'm sure you can tell why after tasting that dessert! But tonight, I invited my parents and Miss Westmorland to come, since I'm paying for this out of the first money that I've ever actually earned. So, while a wonderful place, I think you can all tell why The Rustic was a better choice for me. It really is a great place. Good food, great service, and an educational experience for the kids.” She grinned up at them all tossing out a wink and what she hoped would be a playful, slightly coy look. It would either work or she'd seem to be having a mild seizure. Maybe they'd take pity on her if they suspected she was ill.
The reporters laughed at her little advertisement for the place, but they all wrote it down anyway, including Deborah Winslow.
Mr. Vernor chimed in, seconded by his wife about how proud they were of Katherine and her recent efforts.
The men from the financials, which Gwen guessed to be various papers and magazines devoted to business news, then peppered the shipping magnate with questions that she barely even understood, she tried to follow the whole thing in case there was a test later. There was always a test, right?
“Miss Vernor, any plans to follow your Father into the family business? The stock holders would love to know...” This came from a small man, who looked almost evil when he said it. She figured this was some kind of trap then, but what that would be exactly she didn't know at all.
“Follow Father into the family business? I suppose with a bit more practice and maybe some additional schooling I could swing a position in the mail room. I don't think the stock holders will need to worry on that score for some time.” She grinned, hoping to turn this into a joke and also hoping that mail rooms both existed and were called that here.
Mr. Vernor clapped her gently on the shoulder.
“My daughter's always welcome. We may even be able to do slightly better than the mail room to start with, but only just...” He let his voice go low and conspiratorial then. “Everyone at Vernor Shipping earns their place, even if they have the Vernor name...”
Everyone laughed at this, except Beth who still held a smile plastered to her face.
Things drew to a close, with Deborah Winslow following them out toward their lorrie, which circled around to pick them up. The blond woman didn't approach, she just watched, a strange look on her face. Skeptical and maybe a little angry, Gwen thought, not that she knew for certain. The facial expressions here were all just a tiny bit off from what she'd grown up with.
Less abject disgust for instance.
In the black carriage, Gwen got Bethany back to normal, her eyes going wide as she looked back and forth between the window, Gwen, and the Vernors.
“Gwen...”
The detective took a deep breath and continued.
“Deborah Winslow and Katherine... they were... special to each other once. Lovers. That's why she seems to think we're dating now. She's not planning to let go of this story until she knows the whole truth...”
The Vernors started to act shocked and scandalized, but Bethany just held up a hand, stopping them both in mid-denial.
“You both knew about it. Gwen needs to know this kind of thing, so it doesn't come back to bite her later. Really, I can't believe you didn't mention it already.”
Bethany seemed to become slightly angry then, the most negative emotion Gwen had seen in her so far, and considering she was kinder to a man that had been molesting her repeatedly... She liked the other woman, but still didn't really know her that well yet. This situation, however, would have to be fixed. Trying to do all this without information wouldn't work. That included knowing who she was working with.
Quietly she mentioned this to the older couple. Ethyl put a handkerchief to her mouth and sobbed softly, but managed to speak clearly enough.
“We... we didn't want to tell you, because we thought that if you knew that Katherine had... relations with women, you might not help us.” This choked off suddenly as if it sounded too beastly to speak out loud. She sobbed again and again, real tears pouring down her face.
“Well. Dang.” Shaking her head, Gwen rubbed at her right temple for a bit.
“Look, if you know things like this, whatever it is, just tell me from now on. I mean, if Deborah approaches me, or someone else does, and I don't know anything about a past relationship, that's going to kind of be a big giveaway. I hope I don't have to prove anything to her, because I really do like men, and well, even that's a theoretical thing, because I've never actually been on a date, much less had sex.”
Her face felt hot as she realized she'd just said this out loud to people that probably thought of her as their own daughter still. This information seemed to make the older people happy for some reason. Unreasonably so. Bethany grinned at her sidelong as Gwen ducked her head wanting to hide somehow. No one brought the topic up again, except to let her know that if anyone, man or woman, came up to her claiming to be a former lover, they probably weren't joking.