Meeting Mr. Mogul

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  William Maxwell

  (A Meeting Mr. Mogul Bonus Chapter)

  By: Mel Ryle

  ©MelRyle2015

  William Maxwell

  I felt a little frustrated at how the meeting ended. Alexandra was persistent in finalizing the contract within next week. I knew that it wouldn’t be long before she handed over the company to me. But she hasn’t given me any clues as to when it would be. The only thing I know for certain is it’ll be before or after she marries.

  I combed back my hair with my right hand in frustration and leaned on the seat of the car while Mark drove towards my apartment. The silence was almost deafening and I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I frustratedly glanced down at my wristwatch and noticed it was past eight in the evening. I did not want to go home yet. Luckily, my stomach rumbled at that precise moment and gave me an idea.

  “Mark, can you take me to the restaurant? I’ll be eating out for dinner tonight.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mark replied briefly as he smoothly steered the car to the street on the opposite direction of my apartment.

  When we got to my family’s restaurant, which my sister handled, I got out and told Mark to pick me up when I call. He gave me another curt reply before I closed the car door.

  I walked the short distance strode up to the podium with the maître d’. When I approached her, her eyes grew wide and nervous before a fake smile plastered on her face. I didn’t recognize her from my last visit.

  “Good evening, sir. Are you dining for two or one tonight?” she asked smoothly. Her words were like a caress, but to my ears, they were just plain and stark.

  “No, I’m here alone,” I replied as I watched her absentmindedly. When she didn’t make a move to usher me in, I pursed my lips in annoyance. “Aren’t you going to guide me to my table?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. This way please,” she said nervously. She squirmed out of her position as her eyes fluttered rapidly and turned away from me, trying to hide her anxiousness. I could see the bead of sweat along her temple.

  I ignored her reaction to my presence and followed her inside. I looked around the restaurant and found nothing new to the place. It looked the same from my last visit. The chandeliers above and the tables were set immaculately. But I was used to this kind of ambience. A lot of the other restaurants I owned look like this.

  “Here’s your table, Mr. Maxwell. Y-your server will with be with you in a moment,” the maître d’ stuttered as she gestured towards my usual booth.

  I nodded and sat down comfortably. I looked at the menu placed in a standing position at the middle of the table and grabbed it. I checked if they had anything new, but found none that would entice my appetite.

  “Good evening, sir. Are you ready to order?”

  I tore my eyes away from the menu and looked up to the voice beside me, a little bit surprised. I regained my poker face as I opened my mouth to reply yet no words came out. I blinked my eyes a couple of times as I studied the waitress in front of me. She was taking out a small notepad from her front apron pocket, her head tilted down. She wasn’t looking at me when she asked.

  From my lack of response, she glanced up and asked again, “Are you ready to order, sir?”

  I stared at her for another moment, a little bit taken aback from her composure. Didn’t she know who I was? The girl who escorted me before looked flustered when she saw me. I shook the thought away and scanned the menu again.

  “I’d like tonight’s special and my usual wine,” I replied firmly, injecting a more authoritative tone in my voice.

  She looked at her notepad to write it down. Why was she writing something that could be easily remembered?

  “And what would your usual wine be, sir?”

  I was stunned at the words coming out of her mouth. It seemed like she didn’t recognize me at all. “You don’t know who I am?”

  She smiled apologetically, her eyes gleamed with shame. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’m new here, so I’m not yet familiar with the regulars,” she replied softly.

  “Figures,” I mumbled and shook my head. It turns out I was right. “You can ask your manager what my usual is. That would be all,” I added coolly to end the conversation.

  I couldn’t believe someone in this city, who works for the place my family owned, didn’t recognize me. Without another word, the waitress walked away towards the other side of the restaurant. As I watched her retreating back, I smirked when she stomped away angrily. It was almost comical. Didn’t it cross her mind that I might be looking at her?

  I watched her approach the manager, Frederic, who surveyed the place. When she reached him, there was a short pause before Frederic glanced at me in surprise. I quickly darted my eyes away from them. In disbelief at what I was doing, I pulled out my phone to distract myself. Why was I eyeing the waitress?

  When I heard footsteps got closer, I was somewhat caught off guard to see that it was Frederic standing in front of me. Who else did I expect it to be?

  “Good evening, Mr. Maxwell. I’m sorry for the confusion this evening. I shall get your meal ready,” he said apologetically and bowed slightly.

  “It is okay, Frederic. I want some red wine tonight, you know which one,” I replied formally.

  “Yes, sir, I will be back with that and your meal.” He bowed again before going to the kitchen.

  I watched him for a moment before my eyes glazed around the room and landed at the waitress who attended me. She was by the counter across the room, grabbing a tray filled with plates. I discreetly studied her. She had a model-like figure underneath her standard waitress uniform, which was comprised with a white polo shirt (the sleeves were rolled up to her elbow), black slacks, and brown apron around her waist. Her brunette hair was loose and went past her shoulder in waves. Her tanned skin looked golden under the luminescent light of the chandeliers above. Though her beauty wasn’t that special and nothing that I haven’t encountered before, I couldn’t seem to look away from her.

  I snapped out of my trance as Frederic returned with a tray and a bottle of wine inside a bucket of ice. I tore my eyes away from him as he neatly set my table and saw the waitress glancing in my direction. Her face registered understanding and lack of interest at the same time before facing the current table she attended.

  I didn’t know whether to feel insulted or not, but she had dented my ego for some reason. I never met a woman who looked at me without being perturbed by my presence. Who was this girl?

  I headed out after I had my meal and texted Mark to pick me up. I kept my urge to look at her again at bay. When the cool night air hit my face, I felt relieved that the invisible pull on that waitress was slightly gone. At the back of my head, though, there was still a nagging voice that told me to go back inside.

  I was saved when Mark pulled up in front of me. I entered the car and shut the door before saying ‘let’s go.’ As we drove back to my apartment, the waitress’s indifferent reaction kept replaying in my head like a broken record. I ruffled my hair with a frustrated sigh, which ruined my neatly styled hairdo.

  “Are you okay, sir?” I got out of my trance at the sound of Mark’s voice.

  “I’m fine. I’m just annoyed, that is all,” I replied grimly, trying to end the conversation.

  “Is there something I can do, sir?” he asked monotonously, though I can hear a hint of sincerity in his offer.

  “Nothing that would benefit me, Mark. This isn’t something that can be dealt with.”

  “Is the pro
blem something to do with a person, sir?”

  “I think I never met someone in my life that could brush me off easily like her,” I faintly said to myself. Though from the eerie silence of the car, I knew Mark could hear me clearly.

  “Does it have to do with dinner a few minutes ago, sir?”

  “Yes, Mark. I think I just met a woman who is totally unaffected with my charms,” I said with a hollow chuckle.

  “Ah. The brush off. I have occasionally experienced that myself, sir,” he expressed firmly, though I could hear a hint of playfulness in Mark’s voice. But I never saw him act unprofessionally. It might be the first time he opened up to me in a personal level.

  “I can’t picture you flirting with women, Mark,” I admitted shamelessly with a snicker.

  “I’m single, sir.”

  “We should head out and get a beer sometime, Mark,” I offered uncharacteristically.

  “I don’t usually associate business and pleasure, sir, but for you, I will make an exception.”

  I laughed at his reply. What was wrong with me? Mark was conversationally talking to me like we were peers, which never happened before, and I was bothered by a woman who isn’t affected by my presence and seemed oblivious to who I was. Tonight was strange.

  After Mark parked the car in the garage, I headed up to my apartment in a lighter mood. But the face of the waitress stayed in my head even after my unusually friendly banter with Mark.

  I decided to sleep it off for a night. If she is still on my mind tomorrow, I’m not going to let this slip by. I felt somewhat offended and challenged to meet someone who had no regards towards me. It also sparked an interest and something else, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But I didn’t linger on that thought as I closed my eyes for the night.

  When I woke up the next day, I heard my alarm beep on my bedside table. I stared at my dark room and eyed the time on my digital clock. I stretched my right arm and slammed my hand down to switch the alarm off. With a groan, I rolled out of bed and sleepily head towards the bathroom on the left corner of the room.

  I brushed my teeth before taking a shower. When I was done, I pulled out one of the neatly placed towels on the overhead countertop outside the shower area. I neatly wrapped it around my waist and grabbed another one to dry my hair.

  I eyed my reflection despite how fogged up the mirror was before heading back to the bedroom. Once outside the bath, I ruffled the towel on my head to dry my hair and headed to my walk-in closet. I stood by the door while I viewed the neatly lined suits on the right side. On the left, my casual clothes were stacked in wooden dividers. I walked inside and stopped by the wooden drawer in the middle, pulling out one to get my underwear. I then turned around, pulled a navy suit, and picked a silver tie to go along with it.

  I checked my appearance on the full body mirror at the end of the closet after dressing up. Satisfied with my reflection, I headed back to my room and grabbed my phone by the bedside table.

  I texted Mark that I will be driving myself to work this morning (he admitted his surprise later on). As I drove, I tried to keep my mind occupied with what was in front of me. It actually worked until I reached our company building. After I parked the car, I found Mark near the door of the car waiting for me. I was surprised to see him arrive before I did.

  “Good morning, sir,” he greeted me as I hopped out the driver’s seat and handed him the keys.

  “Morning,” I greeted back as I walked towards the main entrance of the building.

  From what I knew, my sister would be here early to sign a few things before heading out for a meeting at eight. Since last night event’s bugged me like hell, I took the time to ask Maggie about Alexandra’s possible schedule today to keep myself distracted as best as I could. However, I was only fooling myself. I still couldn’t forget her. She was stuck in my head even now.

  I thought the drive here would clear my head but it didn’t. All I could picture in my mind was the sound of her voice when she said she didn’t know me. I hastily headed up to my office floor. I tapped my foot impatiently as the lift went up agonizingly slow.

  When the metal door opened to my floor, I walked out and headed directly to Alexandra’s office. Her secretary’s table was empty at the moment. She fired the last one for being too friendly with me. She was currently looking for another one with Maggie’s help. I felt bad for making Maggie work more these days. I should take note and raise her next paycheck.

  Maggie gave me a startled look, but I didn’t give her time to greet me properly. I didn’t knock as I entered my sister’s office like a whirling typhoon.

  “Do you have a list of the employees of the restaurants in the city? I want to know the name of one of the employees,” I roughly asked. She looked astounded as she glanced up from her laptop.

  “Good morning to you, too, baby brother,” she greeted and regained her composure.

  “List please,” I probed some more when she ignored my question.

  “And what made you suddenly interested with our employees from the restaurant?”

  “I don’t have to explain everything to you,” I replied with clenched teeth. I know she would stall just so she got what she wanted. “If you have it, send it to my office. Thank you.”

  With that said, I spun on my heel and headed out.

  “Wow, a thank you from the domineering William,” she stated in mock astonishment before I closed the door to her office.

  I didn’t know why I walked right in there without a proper plan. She would definitely delve into it. But I had enough. Why did I allow a girl, who’s a nobody, distract me and fill my head the whole night? What was happening to me?

  “Are you okay, Mr. Maxwell?” Maggie’s worried tone made me look up. I didn’t realize I was standing outside my sister’s office like a statue.

  “I’m alright, I think,” I mumbled as I slowly walked towards my office.

  “Are you sure, sir? You look like you didn’t have much sleep last night,” Maggie asked anxiously.

  I gave her a bleak smile in assurance. “I’m okay, Maggie. I just met someone who might give me hell if I don’t get her out of my head.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I think I lost you on that one.” Maggie looked at me in confusion.

  “I think I just met my match, Maggie,” I admitted fearfully in a whisper. I think I have found her.

 

 

  Mel Ryle, Meeting Mr. Mogul

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