Chapter 4: Rupert's Amusement
1170 Words
The morning continued at Sunrise Bistro.
The restaurant remained busy as customers came and went, filling the dining room with conversation, laughter, and the occasional clatter of dishes. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, creating warm patterns across the polished floors.
At their table near the window, Rupert Blackwood was having the most entertaining breakfast he had enjoyed in years.
Not because of the food.
Not because of the restaurant's performance reports.
But because of his son.
Henry Blackwood, the confident and composed CEO who could negotiate million-pound contracts without breaking a sweat, had somehow become completely flustered by a waitress.
And Rupert was enjoying every second of it.
---
Henry reached for his coffee.
As he lifted the cup, his eyes automatically searched the restaurant.
Again.
Rupert noticed.
Again.
"There she is."
Henry nearly spilled his coffee.
"What?"
Rupert pointed towards the far side of the restaurant.
"The person you've been looking for."
Henry frowned.
"I wasn't looking for anyone."
"Of course not."
"I wasn't."
Rupert folded his arms.
"You've checked that side of the restaurant six times in the last three minutes."
Henry opened his mouth.
Then paused.
Because unfortunately, Rupert was correct.
Again.
---
Across the room, Beatrice was helping another customer.
She laughed at something the customer said before writing something in her notepad.
Henry found himself smiling without meaning to.
Rupert immediately saw it.
"Oh, this is much worse than I thought."
Henry looked away.
"What is?"
"You actually like her."
Henry sighed.
"We've already had this conversation."
"No, we've discussed attraction."
Rupert leaned forward.
"This is different."
Henry frowned.
"What exactly is different?"
Rupert smiled knowingly.
"You're nervous."
The word immediately made Henry laugh.
"Nervous?"
"Very."
"That's ridiculous."
Rupert raised an eyebrow.
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"I've seen you address shareholders."
"And?"
"I've seen you negotiate hostile acquisitions."
Henry nodded.
"Your point?"
Rupert smiled.
"You looked calmer during both."
---
Henry shook his head.
"I'm not nervous."
"Really?"
"Really."
Rupert picked up his coffee.
"Then why did you spend five minutes deciding whether to ask her for ketchup?"
Henry froze.
That had happened.
Unfortunately.
The bottle had been sitting on a nearby service station.
Yet somehow he had convinced himself that asking Beatrice directly would be easier.
In retrospect, it had been a terrible excuse.
Rupert burst out laughing.
"I knew it."
"It was a reasonable question."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yes, it was."
"The ketchup was three feet away."
Henry rubbed his forehead.
When Rupert said it out loud, it sounded ridiculous.
---
The older man continued smiling.
"You know what's funny?"
"What?"
"I haven't seen you this uncertain since you were sixteen."
Henry groaned.
"Please don't bring up my teenage years."
"Oh, I absolutely will."
Rupert settled comfortably into his chair.
"You remember Victoria?"
Henry immediately pointed a finger at him.
"No."
"She sat beside you in chemistry class."
"No."
"You spent six months trying to speak to her."
"No."
Rupert laughed.
"And every time she walked into the room, you forgot how sentences worked."
Henry closed his eyes.
"This conversation needs to end."
"It really doesn't."
---
Rupert was enjoying himself far too much.
Meanwhile, Henry focused intensely on his Buffalo wings.
Or at least pretended to.
His attention drifted towards Beatrice once more.
He couldn't help it.
There was something refreshing about her.
She didn't care who he was.
She didn't treat him differently because of his surname.
She wasn't impressed by his success.
If anything, she seemed amused by it.
And somehow that made him want her attention even more.
---
Rupert followed his gaze.
Then his smile softened slightly.
Behind the teasing, he could see something genuine developing.
That surprised him.
Henry had dated many women over the years.
Beautiful women.
Successful women.
Intelligent women.
Yet most relationships followed the same pattern.
Initial excitement.
Brief interest.
Then boredom.
But this felt different.
Because Henry wasn't focused solely on Beatrice's appearance.
He seemed genuinely curious about her.
Interested in her thoughts.
Interested in her personality.
Interested in everything.
That was rare.
Very rare.
---
"Can I ask you something?"
Henry looked at his father.
"You usually do."
Rupert ignored the comment.
"What happens if she says no?"
Henry blinked.
"No to what?"
"The telephone number."
Henry considered the question.
Then shrugged.
"I'll survive."
Rupert studied him carefully.
"You don't sound convinced."
"I am."
"Are you?"
Henry laughed.
"Fine."
Rupert waited.
For once, Henry answered honestly.
"I'd be disappointed."
The admission surprised even him.
Rupert nodded slowly.
That answer told him everything he needed to know.
---
At that moment, Beatrice emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray.
Henry noticed immediately.
So did Rupert.
The difference was that Rupert was watching Henry.
And what he saw made him grin.
His son's posture straightened.
His expression changed.
And his attention became completely focused.
All within seconds.
Rupert laughed.
"What?"
"You just sat up straighter."
"No, I didn't."
"You absolutely did."
Henry glanced down.
Once again, Rupert was correct.
His shoulders had straightened automatically.
He groaned.
"This is embarrassing."
"For you?"
"Yes."
"For me, it's wonderful."
---
A few moments later, Beatrice walked past their table on her way to another customer.
As she passed, she smiled politely.
"Everything alright?"
Henry immediately nodded.
"Perfect."
The answer came far too quickly.
Beatrice smiled.
"Good."
Then she continued walking.
The entire interaction lasted less than five seconds.
Yet Henry watched her until she disappeared into the crowd.
Rupert laughed so hard that nearby customers briefly glanced in their direction.
"You've completely lost control of the situation."
"There is no situation."
"There is absolutely a situation."
Henry shook his head.
"I hate how observant you are."
"It's one of my greatest strengths."
---
Several minutes passed.
Eventually, Rupert leaned back and folded his arms.
"You know what I find most amusing?"
Henry sighed.
"I'm sure you're about to tell me."
"The fact that you're nervous."
"I'm not nervous."
Rupert smiled.
"Henry."
"What?"
"You asked for her telephone number five minutes after meeting her."
"So?"
"You run a multinational corporation."
"So?"
"You've spoken in front of thousands of people."
Henry nodded.
"Yes."
"And yet one waitress smiles at you and suddenly you're second-guessing every word you say."
For once, Henry didn't have a response.
Because deep down, he knew his father was right.
---
Rupert noticed the silence and smiled warmly.
"That's not necessarily a bad thing, son."
Henry looked at him.
"No?"
Rupert shook his head.
"No."
The teasing disappeared from his voice.
"When someone can make you nervous, it usually means they matter."
Henry considered that.
Then his gaze drifted towards Beatrice once again.
She was smiling at another customer.
Laughing at something they had said.
Completely unaware of the conversation taking place about her.
A small smile appeared on Henry's face.
And Rupert noticed that too.
The older man chuckled quietly and returned to his coffee.
Because one thing had become very clear.
Henry Blackwood was in far deeper than he realised.
And the truly entertaining part was that he hadn't figured it out yet.
- Writer
