Elena's expression didn't change. She stared at Julian, who was currently snapping his fingers at a busboy to move his chair 3 inches to the left. No, Elena said, her voice a low, calm contralto. I'll take him.
Are you sure he's in a mood? I saw the news on the TV in the break room. He just acquired that massive pharmaceutical company in a hostile takeover. He's feeling invincible.
Invincibility is usually a temporary condition, Elena murmured. She picked up the leather-bound menus. Go check on table 7, Sarah. I've got Mr. Thorne.
As Elena walked toward the table, she didn't rush. She moved with a fluid, practiced grace. She knew men like Julian. She knew the taxonomy of the arrogant billionaire.
They were fueled by two things, validation and domination. If you denied them one, they demanded the other. Gentlemen, Miss Elena said, placing the menus down with precision. Welcome to The Obsidian.
I'm Elena, and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Julian didn't look up from his phone. He was scrolling through stock tickers. We're not reading, we're drinking.
Bring me a bottle of the 1998 Pétrus. and tell the chef, "I want the tasting menu, but substitute the scallop course for the Wagyu, and have it done medium rare, not that raw nonsense he tries to pass off as art." "The 1998 Pétrus is an excellent choice, sir," Elena said smoothly. "However, the sommelier recommends decanting it for at least 45 minutes to allow the tannins to soften. Would you like a starter bottle while it decants? Julian finally looked up, his eyes narrowed, he hated being corrected, even if it was helpful.
"Did I ask for a lecture?" Julian asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. The table went silent. Brett and Cole stopped snickering. Chloe stared at her napkin.
"I asked for a bottle." Julian continued, leaning back and crossing his arms. Open it. Pour it. If I wanted a lesson on tannins, I'd buy a vineyard.
Do you understand, or is the English language a barrier for you? Elena held his gaze. For a second, just a split second, a spark of something dangerous flashed in her eyes, a hardness that didn't belong to a waitress. But she blinked and it was gone perfectly.
Sir, she said, "I'll bring the bottle immediately." As she walked away, she heard Julian laugh. God, it's like they hire them based on their ability to be deaf and dumb. It's charming, really. The help tries so hard.
Elena walked into the kitchen, her grip on the serving tray tightening until her knuckles turned white. She exhaled slowly. Patience, she told herself. The night is young.