A NAME WORTH REMEMBERING (Recognition at last!)
994 Words
HIS POSSESSION
Chapter Four: A NAME WORTH REMEMBERING
Thursday evening arrived with a crisp breeze that swept through Manhattan.
Inside Le Château, preparations for another dinner service were already underway. Crystal glasses gleamed beneath the chandeliers, fresh flowers adorned each table, and the rich aroma of garlic, butter, and herbs drifted from the kitchen.
Ethan slipped into his apron and tied it neatly behind his back.
“Morning, chef,” he greeted as he passed the open kitchen.
Chef Marcel looked up from inspecting a tray of fresh herbs.
“Evening, Ethan.”
“My mistake.” Ethan laughed. “Guess I’m still waking up.”
“You’ll wake up soon enough. We’ve got a full house tonight.”
“I noticed.”
As Ethan stepped into the dining room, Noah joined him carrying a stack of menus.
“So…” Noah began with a grin.
“What?”
“You’ve got yourself a regular.”
Ethan frowned.
“A regular?”
“The gentleman at table nine.”
Ethan thought for a second before smiling.
“Oh. Mr. De Luca?”
“The very one.”
“I suppose he enjoys the restaurant.”
Noah raised an eyebrow.
“That’s one explanation.”
Ethan laughed.
“I think you’re reading too much into it.”
Before Noah could reply, the front doors opened.
Almost instinctively, both men glanced toward the entrance.
Adrian De Luca had arrived.
The hostess welcomed him warmly.
“Good evening, Mr. De Luca.”
“Good evening.”
She led him toward the now-familiar corner table.
As Adrian walked through the restaurant, his eyes swept across the room.
He spotted Ethan almost immediately.
The young waiter was helping another employee carry an overloaded tray before returning to greet a newly arrived family.
He moved through the dining room with quiet confidence, never appearing rushed despite the crowd.
Adrian found himself watching for a moment longer than he intended.
Only when he reached his table did he look away.
“Ethan,” the hostess called softly.
“Table nine, please.”
“Of course.”
Menu in hand, Ethan approached.
“Good evening, Mr. De Luca.”
“Good evening.”
“It’s nice to see you again.”
“And you.”
There was a brief silence.
Not uncomfortable.
Simply familiar.
“What can I bring you this evening?” Ethan asked.
Adrian closed the menu without opening it.
“What would you recommend tonight?”
Ethan smiled.
“You trusted me yesterday.”
“I did.”
“So… I’ll recommend something different.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“I hope I don’t disappoint.”
“You haven’t yet.”
The words escaped before Adrian gave them much thought.
For the first time, Ethan seemed genuinely caught off guard.
A faint smile crossed his face.
“I’ll make sure the kitchen doesn’t start tonight.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“That would be appreciated.”
Ethan excused himself toward the kitchen.
As he disappeared through the swinging doors, Adrian noticed something unusual.
The conversation had felt…
Easy.
Not because they knew each other.
Because neither of them had tried to be anything they weren’t.
Dinner passed quietly.
Between serving other tables, Ethan checked on Adrian only when necessary.
Never too often.
Never too little.
Exactly as he did with every other guest.
It should have disappointed Adrian.
Instead…
It intrigued him.
He wasn’t receiving special treatment.
If anything, he appreciated that.
Later that evening, a businessman at a nearby table grew irritated after discovering the kitchen had accidentally delayed his order.
“I’ve been waiting thirty minutes,” the man snapped.
Several diners looked over.
Before anyone else could intervene, Ethan stepped forward.
“I sincerely apologize for the delay, sir.”
“An apology doesn’t fix my evening.”
“No,” Ethan agreed calmly.
“But I hope this will be a good start.”
Without raising his voice or making excuses, Ethan offered a complimentary appetizer while personally checking on the order with the kitchen.
Within minutes, the man’s frustration had faded.
As Ethan walked away, the customer called after him.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Adrian had watched the entire exchange.
Most people reacted to anger with defensiveness.
Ethan met it with patience.
That wasn’t professionalism alone.
That was character.
When Adrian finished his meal, Ethan returned with the bill.
“I hope everything was to your liking.”
“It was.”
“I’m glad.”
As Ethan placed the receipt on the table, Adrian’s gaze briefly fell to the small name badge pinned neatly above the waiter’s pocket.
ETHAN BROOKS
For a brief moment, he simply looked at it.
Brooks.
He had known Ethan’s first name since their first meeting.
Now he knew the rest.
Ethan noticed his gaze and instinctively glanced down.
“Oh.”
He smiled sheepishly.
“I keep forgetting I still have to wear the badge.”
“It suits you.”
“Thank you.”
Adrian signed the receipt before standing.
“Have a good evening.”
“You as well, Mr. De Luca.”
Their eyes met for only a second.
Then Adrian turned and walked away.
The city was unusually quiet as the sedan pulled away from the restaurant.
Luca sat in the front passenger seat, reviewing tomorrow’s schedule.
“We have breakfast with the Moretti Group at eight. The charity gala begins at seven.”
Adrian listened without speaking.
His gaze remained fixed on the passing city lights.
After several minutes, he spoke.
“…Brooks.”
Luca looked over his shoulder.
“Sir?”
“The waiter’s surname.”
Luca nodded once.
“I see.”
Neither man spoke again.
Outside, the lights of Manhattan stretched endlessly into the night.
Inside the car, Adrian repeated the name silently.
Ethan Brooks.
For most people, a name was quickly forgotten.
For Adrian…
It was becoming impossible to forget.
End of Chapter Four
- Writer
