The Hated Millionaire Heir

The Café

Black auto drip coffee makers were at the back, coffee brewers both the automatic brewing and single brewing aligned near the prep area, the cooling sound of the Combi oven and the smoking sensation of toasters filled the coffee bar, waiters were in dark colored slacks, button up white shirts, brown overalls with the café name on the middle, moving from waiting area to receive orders, and back to the prep area to collect the attended to orders. A queue blocked reached from the door to the reception desk, this hurdle of waiting impatient customers hindered and slowed the movement of waiters and waitresses as they struggled to move around or squeeze in between the packed congested hurdle. Meanwhile, those who came for the eat out to avoid the hustle of cooking dinner, reached and rested on the cushioned seats set at the far end from the entrance and halfway from the queue at the seating area. Whereas the waiters behind the reception desk hustled like dropouts to receive and submit orders from the ever growing queue, the maître d’( head waiter) sought to cut the line short by urging those for fast food orders to stay in line and those for course meals to seat back at the waiting area some few feet from the entrance near the transparent glass covering. The Astra espresso machine was overwhelmed by the consistent producing of abundant Americanos, macchiato, and cappuccinos.

In a tight, black, cotton, pullover, a shining black hanging rosary, blue tight cargo pants, and brown leather office boots, he sat at the far edge of the café, near the transparent glass, at the far end of the seating area and the closest access to the kitchen area and a short cut to the restrooms. He sat with a hanging loosely held silver Rolex watch, silent, he arrived a while ago but the long queue prompted him to change his plans to an eat out and now he was hungry and had waited for the nearest waiter to reach out but some how they all seemed over worked. To pass the time, he meditated about the beautiful green petals of the growing rose flower outside the café, he was carried away and temporarily was in deep meditation where he focused on the bee that sucked the nectar from the heart of the rose flower, how it flapped it’s wings rapidly to stay up.

“ Bonjour, monsieur.( How are you sir)” greeted the maître d’ dressed different than the rest as he was in black buttoned shirt and with a more darker overall. His attention captured he smiled back, expressing his gratitude to the greeting despite being unattended for nearly ten minutes since he came. Professionally, he handed his seated customer the breakfast menu, despite the night caving in as the light dimmed, in return he analyzed and chose the Italian cappuccinos with some pancakes, handing back the menu as he wrote down the order.

“Your order will be hear soon. Is there anything you may need as you wait?” He asked stashing the menu in his armpit and listened keenly for what his customer had to say.

“Do you have any à la carte dish(separate dish) perhaps?” He asked bringing out his French accent and his taste of food. Surprised and impressed by the French accent, the head waiter reached for the short menu of the à la carte dish and handed it over, he took his leave.

Left alone, he perused the five dishes on display but he found none to be inviting nor exquisite. They all seemed common. Lonely he sought to call his girlfriend who at that time sensed was leaving from work and heading for home. Dialing her number, he placed his phone and waited for the ring, meanwhile he stared examined the around customers, some in hurdles sipping cold refrigerated drinks some laughing nearly chocking from their desert meals and some were alone mediating as they savored their hot pudding and frozen gelato.

In a red overall, her long braid hair covered down to her shoulders, her hanging purse with a gold chain swung aimlessly with every turn as she struggled to look for he who invited her. Waving hands signaled her, and elegantly and seductively she moved towards him moisturizing her lips as she went knowing they were landing somewhere. Nearer and nearer she drew till eventually she was in his strong masculine arms held close, her hands hanging down her neck, eyes closed, the lip to lip contact kept on going till her hands grew weary and eventually let go.

“Hi, Ricky it’s nice to see you.” She said eventually after the near one minute of seductive kissing and tight hugging. Moving back, she sat close and wrapped her hand over his elbow as he leaned on his shoulder, whereas Ricky sat motionless letting her to do what she thought was possible.

“For the first course meals the horsd’oeuvers (appetizers), we have pasta, fried tortilla chips, avocado salsa, classic devilled eggs and French steamed mussels.” The female waitress paused as she delivered the before order of pancakes and Italian cappuccinos, and keenly she gave her warm welcoming smile that often made many customers prefer her over others.

“I will have the fried tortilla chips and she will have the French steamed mussels.” Ricky answered as his girlfriend nodded in agreement. Having note down the order the waitress took her leave and the two were left to their privacy.

She started as she normally did, blabbering about how her day was, how she was pissed off by her authoritative boss and her consistent pride of how she would take charge if she was left to be boss for a day. Ricky listened, as he ate slowly his hot blueberry pancakes and accompanied with the Italian cappuccinos. She talked, talked, till she realized she was the one invited and was making this all about her and she figured the silence Ricky was giving out, his one answer response, he was lost in thought again.

The black, tinted, Mercedes pulled up in their garage amidst the clattering heavy metal cases and banging. Ricky was surprised to see the 500,000$ Mercedes Benz McLaren 722S drive into their garage, putting the chaos and ear irritating commotion to a standstill. From there she emerged, in black jeans, raised heels, a matching black top, she asked for the best mechanic. All hands pointed at Ricky, who was still gazed by the expensive luxurious car. As per the client, Ricky serviced the, 641hose power machine till it was fine and all good. Now it’s been 8 months and they are sitting together, clinging like mountain baboons during mating season. He still wonders what she saw in him, he was poor, till date he works to earn a living but on the other hand she seems to float in wealth. Despite the 8 months relationship, he didn’t know where she got her money from nor her background all he knew were the names on her ID, and of the three names he remembers the first, Mercy, that’s the name he recalls day by day.

The strong, tantalizing, aroma and the sudden silence brought him to his senses and alas! His meal was already in front of him and Mercy gazed disheartened by him. Several times this happened and it took away her mood and she felt he didn’t deserve him and he was to be grateful she was with him. But somehow, there was that one unexplainable reason that made her hang on and not let the train wreck go solo. An hour afterwards and the dishes are wiped clean, the two had kept mum, each in their own thoughts not bothered by the other. The tension grew, but none were ready to break the silence barrier between the two.

“And what will you have for your entrée?” The waitress paused as she arranged the plates and waited for the next order, meanwhile the asked were at war but a silent one.

“I will have the roasted cauliflower and chick pea tacos with green tahini… for her she will speak for herself.” Ricky uttered back turning his back on Mercy meanwhile disrespectfully addressing her who seemed pissed of by the rudeness brought out.

“I will have the barbeque cauliflower steaks with romesco sauce.” Mercy retorted to the waitress who noted down and took her leave as she let the two to take it out on each other.

“What’s wrong with you lately you seem distracted. You call me here and you don’t even talk to me!” She uttered harshly, vigorously shaking Ricky forcing him to look back. She wondered what kind of man was he, he invited her and said nothing just ignored her, was he even worthy of her attention!

“How bout you make our relationship less of you and more off us!” He finally burst out, the tone was filled with pain that had been locked in. His expression was followed by his fist banging the table loud enough capturing the attention of those around. He was tired of her making their relationship more of her and less of him, she never asked how he was, what was going on in his life, it was all about, Mercy this, Mercy that, just about her! He too was sick of it.

At each other’s nerves, the two were pissed off, one because of lack of attention by the other, and the other tired of the selfish and self love of the other. Worse was no one was willing to accept they were wrong, they both thought it’s his fault not mine so I am not apologizing. So for the twenty minutes they turned their backs, stared at opposite directions, waiting for the other to say their sorry.

“Here is your meal.” The waitress said delightful as she lay down the ordered meals and took her leave to tend to other wanting and hungry customers.

“I’m sorry.” he finally said. Ricky was killed by the silence between the two, enough he said if she won’t apologize then I will. Psyched himself up, he turned and caressing her back he apologized again, till she gave in moments later.

The two were finally at peace, like couples they were they enjoyed their lavish meal. Laughing, cracking jokes, Mercy and Ricky made that night an enjoyable one. You could not say the two were on each other’s throats minutes ago, it was just joy and laughter. But the ecstasy was about to be cut short sooner than later.

The red wine for the monsieur, and the white wine for the madam. He uttered eloquently and professionally. Dressed in a black tux, the sommelier put on their table two glasses filled with the expensive drinks and without further a do he took his leave. Before the two could ask whose treat was it, the Samaritan came out.

In a black overall, a black top hat, and his hanging leather briefcase, he came forward, nearing the table of the couple whose joyful moment was cut short. They were still in shock, but eventually it was Mercy who was left in shock. He advanced directly for the lady, not daring to even wave to the man beside who had wrapped his hand over her neck as a sign of dominance.

“Hello, my name is Tony, Ricky’s brother.” Tony uttered politely, reaching his hand for the lady’s. Immediately, she noticed the sudden uncomfortable tension within Ricky, he was disheartened, he didn’t dare to look at Tony, and why would he?

“Nice to meet you but we have to leave.” Mercy said grabbing her purse, pulling Ricky by his left arm raising him up with her. Meanwhile Tony was left hanging, and this pleased Ricky because for once he was disrespected like what he normally does to him back in the mansion. Heading for the reception, the two paid the bill, and back to their joyfully vibes they disappeared into the darkening night lightened by the street lights and passing cars.

All this time, Tony moved back, he was embarrassed by a peasant. His approach was meant to disrespect Ricky but it back fired. Now he was set to get back to him, he was a peasant before his eyes, and he was obliged to remind him that.