Chapter 2: Across the dinning room
1110 Words
The restaurant floor was a stark contrast to the chaos of the kitchen. Here, everything was controlled elegance _ candlelight flickering in crystal holders, soft music humming in the background, restaurant servers gliding seamlessly between tables. Wealth and power sat at every corner, wrapped in designer suits and silk gowns, discussing deals worth millions over plates of truffle risotto and Wagyu steak.
And at the far end of the restaurant, at a quiet corner table, Michael Stone observed it all.
Michael Stone, a 30 years old handsome bachelor who was an astute businessman, values his privacy and keeps a low profile, avoiding the spotlight and media attention.
Michael's lean, athletic build matched well with his height which was about 185 cm. His dark brown, short hair was styled neatly. He had piercing blue eyes which seemed intelligent and introspective. Under his designer suit, stood his smooth, fair skin with a subtle tan.
Michael is committed to preserving his anonymity, keeping his personal life and relationships out of the public eye.
He never truly belonged in places like this, despite being exactly the kind of man this restaurant catered to.
Michael comes from a wealthy family, but his parents' lavish lifestyle and high society expectations never resonated with him.
The Stone family empire had made him one of the wealthiest men in the country, but unlike others in his circle, Michael had no interest in the spotlight. No media appearances, no indulgent interviews about his latest acquisitions.
Michael attended an Ivy league university where he honed his business skills and developed a passion for entrepreneurship. He built his fortune through savvy investments, strategic business deals, and innovative ventures, becoming a billionaire before the age of 30.
He is focused on his goals, always thinking several steps ahead and making calculated decisions, working tirelessly to achieve success and expand his business empire.
Despite his private nature, he is committed to giving back to society, supporting various charitable causes and initiatives.
He preferred silence. He preferred privacy.
And yet, tonight, he was here _ in the luxurious restaurant meant for only people of high caliber.
His business partner, Elliot James, sat across from him, swirling his whiskey in his glass. “I’m just saying, it’s time you put yourself out there more. You know the board wants to see you take a more public role. Investors like a face, not just a name.”
Michael exhaled through his nose. “The investors care about numbers. My presence at charity galas isn’t going to change the company’s worth.”
Elliot smirked. “Not everything is numbers, Michael. Look around. Everyone in this place is here because they want to be seen. You are the only one actively avoiding it.”
Michael didn’t respond, his gaze shifting toward the kitchen doors just as a young woman emerged carrying a tray. Andrea George.
He didn’t know why she caught his attention, but she did.
She wasn’t dressed in the sleek black uniforms of the servers, which meant she wasn’t front-of-house staff. No, she was from the kitchen. But there was something different about her. The way she moved _ focused, determined, unaffected by the glitz surrounding her. Her kitchen uniform didn't stop her from walking so elegantly.
The way her casual bodycon black dress curled around her body, making her curves prominent. Her apron was perfectly sitting on her hips while hugging her waist.
He couldn't help but stare.
Was it lust or love at first sight? He could not place that.
He watched as she served the table far opposite him. He couldn't hear what she was saying to the customers on that table, but he sure knew that they were having a subtle conversation.
“She has a really pretty face”, Michael thought to himself.
Just then, he caught her smiling at one of the men on that table.
“Why is she smiling at him?”, he thought while squeezing his palm into a fist. He could sense that jealousy was running through his veins. But why would he be jealous of a complete stranger?
“Michael!”, Elliot called.
Elliot's loud call yanked him out from his thoughts.
“Yes”, Michael replied while scratching his head.
“Have you been listening to what I have been saying at all?” Elliot asked with puzzled eyes.
“Oh yes! You have been talking about erm erm erm the investments and and..” Michael kept on stuttering without making a complete sentence.
“What are you thinking of? And why were you staring blankly into space?” Elliot asked again.
“It's nothing. It's just a little distraction. Sorry for not giving you my full attention. So, what were we saying before I was abruptly distracted?” Michael asked while adjusting himself properly on his seat, so he could face Elliot directly .
___
Andrea George
While Andrea George was tending to the orders of table four , her eyes randomly ransacked the restaurant, and halted when it got to table thirteen _ it was located at the far end of the restaurant.
On table thirteen, there sat two young men who were dressed in luxurious apparels. Their designer suits could easily tell they were well made billionaires. She couldn't see the face of the one with the short, dark brown hair because he was faced the other side, but she could clearly see the face of the one with the blonde hair.
“Maybe she can walk up to them and tell them of her business plans. They might be willing to invest in her career. And she might be free from the hawk eyes and poisonous mouth of Chef Marc”, she thought to herself.
“Please ma'am, can I get a glass of water?”, One of the men on table four asked her.
She was brought back to reality almost immediately.
“Oh, yes sir. I will notify one of the restaurant servers and it will be brought to you immediately”, she replied while carrying the tray from the round, well sculptured wooden table, laced with sprinkles of gold.
She placed the tray on her raised hands, while heading back into the kitchen.
Maybe she could have just listened to her thoughts and walked over to table thirteen. It might just be a catalyst in building her career. Walking over to table thirteen might just be her one chance to live her dream life.
But she didn't.
She never did.
Instead, she walked back into the kitchen with all manner of elegance like she had no problems up her sleeves.
- Writer
