Fortunately for Brett, bloodshed wasn't on the agenda for that evening, and at worst he'd leave the table feeling sick or hungry.
With the course laid out, Enzo left them to eat, and Hutch stood from his seat. Taking up the carving fork and knife, he skillfully flayed the jowls from the skull in narrow strips, laying them down across the front of the platter.
The meat was fragrant, red, and juicy. The aroma and appearance were mouthwatering.
"Tongue?" Hutch asked of Brett as he went to remove the apple from its maw.
"No. No thanks. I'll pass," he replied with a hint of nervous laughter.
Glancing at Casimir, he gave a subtle shake of his head, and Hutch retracked the fork from the Boar's mouth, letting the apple remain between its jaws, while moving on to other areas where the meat could be stripped away.
"Please, dig in. I find the jowl to be the most succulent part," Casimir stated as he took his fork and plucked to strips from the pile.
When he was finished removing several slices from the muzzle and the top of the head, setting them into a separate pile, Hutch set down the carving utensils and returned to his seat. He was satisfied by the uneasy look that was lingering in Brett's eyes and while he knew it not to be case, he had hoped that some part of it was from seeing the skills he had with the knife. He wanted Brett to wonder where he'd obtained them, he wanted to be questioned, but would have settled for a compliment. However, none would come.
Hutch wouldn't end up saying much during the meal. When he did speak it was because of Casimir trying to draw him in, but barely halfway through and even his attempts had stopped. Instead, he listened to the conversation, and paid attention to how Casimir was directing it, hoping at some point that it would sound less disjointed, although he was certain that everything about that evening was about making Brett as uncomfortable as he could. He'd made it so that nothing about the evening flowed naturally, from the way he pre-ordered the drinks, to the rushed arrival of the main course before the proper conclusion of the previous, to the wine being poured midway through. Even the positioning of the side dishes, required Brett to lean forward in a precariously close position to the grotesquery of the head.
And bit by bit, Casimir pulled information from Brett's addled mind. Despite his unsettled nerves making for easy pickings, Hutch found this process no less impressive. There was a mastery behind Casimir's workings, and the longer the meal went on, the more difficult it was for Hutch to hide his amusement.
The more he came to recognize the truth of what was happening, the more apparent it became that Casimir had never lost his strategic edge, and he knew, without a doubt, that he was just as much Cascel now, as he had ever been.
Brett on the other hand, was nothing like he could recall, even in the fleeting memories he had. In those memories, he was warmer, kinder, and even when he was perturbed by Hutch showing up unannounced, he couldn't recall a moment where he didn't at least give him time enough to explain. Even if he didn't help him, he never outright sent him away. And this left Hutch to wonder if perhaps he had been remembering things incorrectly, or if he really was so blinded by his own childish desires to be accepted that he couldn't see Brett for the man he really was. Not that it mattered, since he could see him clearly now. He saw through every feigned smile, and kind word. Compliments fell flat, and showed their disingenuous nature, only proving how truly selfish his intensions for being there were. For the more he tried to befriend Casimir, the more obvious it became that he motives weren't as innocent as he claimed.
Setting down his utensils, having eaten his fill, Casimir had clearly grown tired of Brett's company, his growing contempt visible in the way he aggressively cleaned his plate.
"I hope you found that as satisfying as I have," Casimir remarked, as he pushed his plate aside. "I'm not sure if I need to compliment my butcher for sending this one over or the Chef for preparing it as splendidly as he has."
"I suspect both," Hutch replied, as he shoveled another forkful of the meat into his mouth, savoring its rich, earthy taste.
"Huh. Well, it's certainly been interesting," Brett muttered, having found it difficult to eat much of anything. "Next time though, I'm thinking I should make the arrangements. Maybe treat you to some local faire down at the country club. If you're eating like this on a regular basis, I'm betting some old fashioned surf'n'turf isn't going to phase you none."
Casimir chuckled along with him, before gathering his napkin from his lap and setting it on top of his plate. "What makes you think there will be a next time?"
"I suppose it's fine by me if you don't want to come along with the two of us," Brett replied motioning to Hutch, "but the invitation will always be open. Maybe I'm wrong here, but I think it's in all our best interests to stay on friendly terms for Jules' sake. Now that his mother is out of the picture, I'm all he has left, and I want you both to know that I'm here in case he slips back into some of his old habits. Not that I think he will now that those less than reputable influences are gone from his life. Really now, what kind of a mother lets her kid hang around night clubs and stripers instead of sending him home to his schoolwork?"
Both Hutch and Casimir glared at Brett across the table.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought he would have told you after I threatened him on New Years."
"He did. And that left me to wonder, what kind of a father threatens his son?" Casimir questioned; his tone filled with vitriol.
"The kind who wants to make certain his son isn't hiding anything from you. It wouldn't be much of a threat if he'd already told you the truth about where he comes from and the type of activities, he was involved in. However, I assure you, he's got his head on straight now. While I don't doubt, he may have left out some of the details, he was at least smart enough not to get caught. No record, no problem, right?"
"Wouldn't have been much of a problem either way," Casimir responded. "I've never been against giving people a second chance, once they've proven that they deserve it."
"Well, that's a relief. I'd still watch him around your wife's jewelry though," he replied with a grandiose smirk and wave of his hand. "I jest, of course. He's always been a good kid, just got in with a bad crowd. That's all behind him though. And if it isn't, if you have any trouble with him, or if he needs anything, I'd appreciate it if you called me."
Casimir turned and looked at Hutch for what felt like a long few seconds, before turning away and letting out a quick huff. "Who he chooses to call, is up to him. If he asks it of me though, I will. However, let me make this perfectly clear to you, Hutch will give me no trouble. Whatever his past, I trust in him now, because he's proven himself to be trustworthy. Perhaps you would know that if you had asked. But I believe our dinner has come to its conclusion. I know I have had more than enough."
"Think about me what you will Casimir, but it doesn't change the fact that he's my son, and I have every right to make sure he's doing okay. And it's obvious from where I sit, that he's in a far better place than he was. And I want him to continue working for you. The opportunity you've given him, I'm overwhelming grateful for, since I couldn't do this for him myself. I want him to do his best and learn everything he can from you, because God willing, when my father finally retires, I can bring Jules into the family where he has always belonged."
"You want him to work for Juisan?"
"Not Juisan. BarRoss. And not just work for, but to help run. With you teaching him, I know he'll be capable of helping me turn BarRoss into a company that will be worthy of being amongst the many corporations that work under the Cascel Tower banner. And it starts right here, with forming a good working relationship, all because you gave my son the chance I never could."
"Then I'm afraid you have either been incredibly misinformed or entirely mislead, when it comes to my importance and position within Cascel Tower. No relationship with me, good or bad, is going to change that. BarRoss is free to submit the same application for tenancy as everyone else, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. The board wouldn't approve, based on the company's reputation alone."
Brett took in a breath and pushed his plate aside, dropping his arms onto the table.
"I'll be the first person in line to tell you my father has run the reputation of BarRoss into the ground. Which is why it's imperative that I look towards the future and turning it around. Getting him out as CEO has always been a challenge, since despite the reputation, BarRoss turns a profit, and that makes the shareholders happy. It doesn't matter to them that his tactics are deplorable, to say the least. However, I want to rebuild it, and cut ties with certain questionable aspects of the company, and a positive relationship with Cascel Tower Corporation could help make that happen. If the shareholders can see a better future ahead, they may be willing to take a risk on ousting my father."
"I can see your reasoning, but I'm still not the connection you're looking for. I have next to nothing to do with the business side of what goes on here, and haven't since the mid 80's. My role is strictly with the security of the buildings, and the occasional overview of the charitable organizations my daughter now runs."
Brett didn't seem phased by the revelation and gave nothing away to say he was disappointed.
"Even so, for the sake of Jules, I want to get along with you. I really hope in the future, you'll take me up on my offers to join us. And before you go thinking that this has all been a giant waste of time, at least I got to spend some quality time with him. Maybe you can convince him to give me the same second chance, you've so graciously given to him."