The Rise of the Jackson's Heir

Chapter Seven

"Mr. Milton? Are you insane? Milton, did you transmit your stupidity to our beloved manager." Dickson said, his face filled with malice towards Milton.

Natalie chuckled awkwardly, "come on, Milton. You are no one, let alone mister. Mr. Dalton, your humor has always been fine, let not this manipulator, a cheat, and a liar get to you. Milton, off you go, shoo. Shoo." 

She waved in the air like Milton was some kind of a bird with an infectious airborne disease. 

The fight he had in him earlier disappeared, and the love of his life was bringing him down. Once again, he felt his world crashing. He stared at the manager, thinking, "how hard is it for a man to get a meal without drama?"

Milton tapped the manager, "can we go." 

It wasn't a question, and Mr. Dalton would have agreed if Natalie hadn’t laughed maniacally and mimicked Milton, "hey, can we go." 

It infuriated the manager, "don’t yell at my VIP. You better shut it or else I will…" 

Dickson and Natalie interrupted him and started daunting him too. Their voices got louder. Attracting attention Milton didn't want. He felt embarrassed even though he wasn't doing anything wrong. 

He told the manager, "I only want to eat with my friend. That is it. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Mr. Dalton exhaled and inhaled, he bowed respectfully, "of course, Mr. Milton. My apologies."

"Okay," Milton said. 

Natalie and Dickson rolled their eyes. Mr. Dalton placed his hands behind his back, professionalism written all over his face, and he said, "Mr. Milton, this is your spot. Always.”

Milton thought, "this is getting complicated." Things were escalating pretty quickly and weirdly. The more he stayed, the more he learned things that seemed unreal.

Dickson and Natalie's eyes widened. “It can't be.” They mumbled. 

The manager repeated what he said to Milton. Natalie wiggled herself down on the chair whilst Dickson's nose flared in anger. "You are lying. This is my seat. Mine! and not 'Mr. Milton's'." If his eyes could kill, Milton would be dead already.

The customers around were staring at Dickson and Natalie. Their eyes said they were tired of their yelling and disrespectfulness. Natalie felt humiliated. Dickson felt his blood boiling in anger. 

Dickson hit the table furiously, making Milton jump a little. "Mr. Dalton, that is preposterous. No way this chair belongs to Milton. Milton is a loser. Someone like him belongs to the ground. Right honey?"

Natalie nodded furiously, "I know him. He doesn’t have the money or power to own a seat here. This table is ours."

Dickson glared at Milton and then at Mr. Dalton. He huffed, "pfft. VIP my foot."

It took every ounce in the manager not to haul these two out, because one, a VIP was with him, and two, he didn't want a bad name for the restaurant. Sighing, slightly defeated, making Natalie and Dickson’s faces shine triumphantly, the manager unlocked the tablet he had in his hand.

He clicked on the hotel's booking reservation app and rechecked if changes were done without his knowledge. Alas, Jackson's name was still there. There had been no change whatsoever, so why, why would these two mean people insist it was theirs?

"You have to leave now. This spot is for a VIP and the VIP is here. It is Milton and not you, whoever you are." The manager said through gritted teeth.

Natalie rose, "Milton isn't and will never be VIP, why are you insisting on making him something he isn't? Of labeling him our name? Stop disgracing yourself and us. You should be thankful we haven't left."

Dickson supported her, "exactly. If you don't tread well, prison will be your home. Oh, with you too, Milton."

Mr. Dalton placed a hand on Milton’s shoulder, his hands were trembling. Milton felt it but said nothing. All this was getting out of hand and he didn’t like it. He heard himself speaking but words were not passing his throat.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Milton squinting. He was in deep thought and since Mr. Dalton knew the Jacksons, he didn't know Milton was thinking of a way to stop this.

Mr. Dalton thought Milton was planning something cruel to make him pay for making him stand here like a fool. He removed his hand from him and irritatedly told Dickson and Natalie, "I won't repeat myself. You will be going to jail if you don't leave. Now."

However, Dickson and Natalie were adamant, and he knew there was only one way out, figuring out who gave them this VIP spot when every worker in the hotel knew it was always reserved for the Jacksons.

He held his finger up to stop Natalie from bickering, "a moment."

He sent someone to bring the waiter in charge of serving the VIPs. 

Natalie narrowed her eyes at Milton, whilst Dickson leaned to kiss her on the cheek, "give him a second, he will realize he has made a grave mistake.”

Milton looked away. It was a surprise he was still standing and breathing. This scene in front of him was suffocating.

When the waiter arrived, he released the air he didn't know he was holding. "Please, let this be over." He said to Mr. Dalton.

"I apologize again, I…"

Milton shook his head, the apologies were beginning to sound like music in his ears. 

Mr. Dalton faced the waiter, "why are these two claiming the seats are theirs?"

The waiter trembled under the manager's gaze. He was utterly terrified. He had messed up. Big time. "Sir." He began, his mouth quivering. The manager motioned him to continue.

The waiter stared at Natalie and Dickson. Dickson winked. The waiter pried his gaze from him, and he looked down embarrassed, "sir, the spot was unoccupied."

Mr. Dalton answered, "as it is always been because it is reserved for the Jacksons."

"Yes sir. But I." He paused, swallowed hard, and finished, "this man here paid me a hundred dollars to sit them here."

Mr. Dalton opened and closed his mouth, he blinked rapidly, and when he managed to speak, he asked meekly, "why? Why? What did you do?"