NOVEL WEB Chapter 9: A Twisted fate
Alexander
I sat still on my sit, glancing around the VIP section taking in the cliche and exquisite design of the restaurant. The soft glow of chandeliers danced off the polished marble floors, while plush velvet chairs surrounded elegant mahogany tables. Intricately designed artworks adorned the walls, and the aroma of fresh flowers permeated the air. The soothing music created an atmosphere of sophistication and tranquility. Every detail was meticulously thought out, creating a luminous and inviting ambiance.
I've never been to this restaurant ever since it was established five years ago. All I know was that, it was built in my name and given to Clark's father to manage.
"Alex?", I was drawled out of my thoughts when I heard my father calling my name. I looked up at him to see him gritting and glaring at me.
"Sorry, what were you saying?", I said sitting upright and clearing my voice at the same time.
"This is Mr Pedro. He's a well known business man from France. And Pedro my friend, this is Alexander my son I've been telling you about." My father introduced us and Mr Pedro extended his hand towards me for a handshake.
"Oh wow, it a pleasure to finally meet you Alexander." I hesitantly shook his hand, plastering a smile on my face which didn't quite reach my eyes, trying my best to maintain a facade of warmth and cordiality.
"It's my pleasure too", I said giving him a slight nod. He turned back to my father to probably continue their business conversation. Carefully, I discreetly slipped my slick phone out of the snug pocket of my trouser to operate on it.
I glanced up from my phone when I heard the voice of a waitress, she casually placed my father's coffee in front of him and proceeded to place Mr Pedro's own who muttered a little thank you to her.
She got to my side, and delicately placed my steaming coffee in front of me. I couldn't help but notice the nervousness evident in her stance and posture. Our gazes locked for a few seconds before I averted my eyes back to my phone.
As soon as I sensed a scorching liquid making contact with my neck and trickling down into my suit, an involuntary flinch took over me. In that split second, my eyes darted upwards to look at the waitress in a state of panic, desperately reaching into her pocket to retrieve a handkerchief. Despite my efforts to distance myself from her touch, she persisted in her determined mission to eradicate the coffee stains from my attire. Frustrated and still attempting to separate myself from her grasp, her tender fingers grazed against my exposed neck and I froze. Fuck.
And the contact I've been trying so hard to avoid has finally happened. I looked up at my father who was already in front of me with a look of shock and astonishment clouding his face, guess his happy now. I looked away from him, shutting my eyes, awaiting the immense pain that will soon envelope me. I opened my eyes again to see the waitress being dragged away by one of our bodyguards with streams of tears on her face.
Few seconds passed, nothing happened. No irritability, no reaction. I gingerly raised my hands to touch my neck, half-expecting to feel the telltale signs of irritation, but was met with an odd sensation of normalcy instead. I looked at my father who had the same expression as me and at Mr Pedro who had a confused look on his face.
Confusion clouded my mind as l questioned the reality before me. Could it be possible that I was dreaming? The thought danced through my thoughts like an elusive wisp of smoke, leaving me disoriented and off-balance.
My mind raced with countless possibilities. Was this a temporary glitch? A twist in fate's whim? I glanced around the restaurant, but everything seemed to blur into the background. My thoughts became consumed by this profound revelation, pushing the boundaries of my comprehension. How could something that had been my reality for so long suddenly vanish?
"Are you okay?" my father asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. I looked at him to see a tumultuous mix of disbelief, curiosity, and a glimmer of hope on his face.
My gaze shifted, meeting his eyes, it took me a moment to collect my thoughts before responding, my voice tinged with amazement. "I... I think so," I replied, with a tone barely above a whisper. "But... this is impossible."
"I'm as shocked as you are too". He said looking at me all over again.
"Is there a problem, Mr Marco?". We both turned to look at Mr Pedro who was still looking at us with a look of confusion clouding his face. I almost forgot he was here too.
"Mr Pedro, my dear friend, there's no need to worry at all. You see, my son has a strong aversion to having his clothes stained by drinks, which explains our slight concern". As I caught Mr Pedro's gaze, I noticed my father beaming with delight beside me.
"I understand, there's no need for concern. It was simply an oversight by the waitress." Mr Pedro smiled and took a sip of his coffee. "Since everything is resolved, let's proceed with our business discussion."
My father, a serious expression on his face, quietly nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think that would be a good idea," he responded. As they delved deeper into discussing the intricacies of their business plans, I found my mind slowly drifting away from the conversation, consumed by the memory of the significant event that had transpired just minutes before.
Throughout my entire life, stretching back as far as my memory allows, I have been plagued by this inexplicable sickness that has consumed me. It's become an integral part of who I am, a constant burden that I've carried with me. But now, unbelievably, it has vanished without a trace. I can hardly comprehend the possibility of such a miraculous occurrence. Recalling the years of enduring physical discomfort and enduring the inconvenience caused by this peculiar ailment, I reflect on the countless instances where I had to adjust my daily routine to evade any possible contact with potential triggers. And yet, here I am, sitting in disbelief, completely untouched by the very thing that has haunted me for as long as I can remember. The sheer improbability of it all leaves me in wonder.
I looked down at the handkerchief resting on my lap, studying its intricate pattern. With a gentle touch, I carefully placed it inside the pocket of my trousers, ensuring it was secure. Finally, standing up, I made my way towards the restroom.