Into His Arms

|2| Appointment

"The soup tastes good, I hope...Ton--I mean, Mr. Tony Parker, I hope you are enjoying the evening here", came the wide-eyed comment and flirting of Mrs. Fancy, whose extra arrangements of seats and foods were just for imploring her the man of the day. 

He just nodded, taking it as a proper business talk, not because there were many other officials there (he had no manners after all0 but because he wasn't going to accept her tedious tries. There was always space for everyone, but a nod was enough for all whom he rejected. However, the dumb lady thought the nod gave her even more opportunities; a misunderstanding on her behalf.

"About the business partnership, Mrs. Faancy, we are putting in 10 percent deal'

Tony raised his eyebrows. Frankie noticed the tension, and twisting his head down and upright, he hissed a bit and spoke politely to show he was interrupting.

"Mr. Mark, 10 percent was our deal. If could proceed with anything lower, I assume the losses would only be worth the deal"

The rich luxury business, abound with greed, cleared his throat and stressed,

"I have made myself clear, Mrs. Fancy"

Following the statement, arrived a thousand other gambles.

"Mrs. Fancy, Fashion modeling, and Sofware Companies are offering 8.69 percent. Now, I don't want another auction for that choice!', barked the very stylish yet useless inheritor of her mother-in-law's achievements after she turned brain dead.

More barks arrived. Nobody knew the dinner hall, extravagant and shiny, as it all shone could turn out to be noisier than the kitchen space. Gore and violence however prohibited. 

"Mr. Hans, son of Great Kevin Mart, you shouldn't stress on 15 percent when I'm dealing it with 14.69 percent! How rude of you, especially when your just twenty!"

"I'm 3 percent. I can't really take the losses, for now, Mrs. Fancy"

A lady in a red frock, whose thighs were just too overexposed, stood up and whispered softly after jabbing at her mouth.

"I am not ready for this deal, Mrs. Fancy. Our company is flourishing. and doesn't need much of your share anyway"

Attitude, agony, and pride overthrew comments and opinions. While bits and matters of everything joined and compensated at different tones didn't disturb the ever-gorgeous and amazing Mr. Tony Parker, who was now consuming his third lobster of the day. Even though he would eat with a face inverted down, his eyes rolled over the kitchen door.

"Now, now..this isn't anything special", roared Mrs. Fancy.

She coughed a bit into her saffron cotton handkerchief, the small ones seen with babies. 

And showing the handkerchief to all gambling faces, she sighed, like all of it had taken her energy.

Frankie was the only one who gasped. The remaining just settled down at the sight.

The thick red drop of blood on the fabric hidden between its creases.

"I don't assure anyone of any losses. For as you can all see, this share would be initiated and completed by my daughter in France who would be arriving in two days utmost. To specially make everyone aware, she has already plotted down plans with percent shares noted. Here, Mrs. Yuhan will all show you her plans, and anyone against it can objectify"

Again, she coughed, following some blood.

"N-now, please...if you would continue this dinner peacefully...Excuse Me"

Saying so, she barged into the kitchen leaving the crowd, silent and thoughtful.

The others resumed eating, after seeing an argument was no benefit of theirs, while a completed Tony stood up to wash. Followed closely by Frankie, who was now shocked to find the forty-year-old woman who jogged twice a day, was going to leave them all with a shocking revelation.

No offense, but it was gladdening yet sorrowful.

"Frankie, wait outside. I will come in a minute"

He nodded, collecting their slip sealed in a branded envelope. Surely, Mrs. Fancy was a bit too 'fancy', more or less like her name itself.

Walking swiftly into the kitchen, he was pushed aside by rushed servants, chefs, and grocery arrangers who were now sweating and tired from all the hard work. Paying no attention to anybody, he fought his way through without any violent forces more specifically, pulling his stiff body through, while making sure all men turned to his back or sides knew a man was coming through.

Nobody had the time to actually notice the luxurious man, which indeed was offensive but his aim on having visited this trash place made him think twice.

In he walked, through a dark tunnel, straight into another large section.

Vessels as large as reactors, stood above firewood, letting the spices rise and the smoke get to one's face. Tony coughed a bit, catching the attention of everyone behind the smoke. The noise surrounded into a funny abrupt stop.

"Oh! Mr. Tony Parker, my dear, have you lost your way?"

Mrs. Fancy appeared from out of the blue and hugged him.

The uncomfortable man almost pushed her away.

Almost, until when his thoughts ran to those words before said in a strange encounter.

"Seriously?"

He laughed to himself and returned the hug a bit too nicely.

She enjoyed it, undoubtedly, because it lasted for more than a second; her best record so far.

Smiling widely, she began to hold his hand, when he just pulled himself forward to the smoke into the light.

Meeting eyes again of chefs and a busy household, he ran his eyes keenly over them all.

And at once of the corners, engrossed with his back turned to all those still silence, was his lean gorgeous figure, dripped in sweat and spices, bending and leaning onto a big vessel, one bigger than his entire body. His breath or rather sigh made Tony sigh too.

"Just a minute..'

Pushing away from the clingy Mrs. Fancy by a finger, he trudged forward to him, keeping those eyes fixed and unmoving. Instead of having checked the floor was dirty, or the entire hall had been luxurious enough for his entry, he just kept walking until he stood a few inches to his side. However, the latter didn't even notice. His nose still smelling the spices and the fingers tasting the aroma of curry dripping from his fingers. 

He said nothing. Instead, stood grim and fierce, the senescence engulfing in, and the beauty of the moment enriching his soul. The strange fluttering of his heart now rang like softballs inside his pinna.

The silence caught the lad's attention now.

He turned around, noticing the shadow, and stared above to the big height of the man before him.

His voice consumed itself.

'Umm...Sir, you?!"

The shock and discomfort were evident.

The entire kitchen staff was now confused, glancing at each other to see if any of them were able to realize this man enriched in the word 'rich'

Except for Mrs Fancy.

She, absolutely vexed and irritated, walked to their side and grabbed Mr. Tony's hand.

However, the former pulled away from the hold and stared deeply into those blue eyes.

"Come..to me."

Just those three words echoed in the vast dark kitchen.

He winced.

The woman in her forties cringed her forehead and asked, with concern and controlled rage,

"MR tony, you seem to have mistaken Travis for someone else, I assume"

Tony smiled softly.

"Travis...I like it."

Travis, on the other hand, kept staring into those eyes. The captivation and warmth in it weren't as satisfactory as it was, but not as much as scary as the first encounter. 

"Mr. Tony-

"Travis, the appointment is at 3"

Saying so, he gave one of his best smiles and began to return, ignoring an annoying and confused woman and all the kitchen staff there.

His heart smiled for once.

And throughout the return journey to his house, his mind revolved around Travis and his aroma of spices.