Chapter Fourteen
Ishmael
Exiting the lift, Ishmael stopped in front of the mirror hanging in the corridor, taking the opportunity to straighten his tie. Giving himself a final once over, he continued on his way through the Art Deco brand and glass double doors of Deluxious.
He lifted his hand in a ‘stop’ gesture to the hostess. “I’m not here to dine. Friends of mine are here celebrating their anniversary and I wish to extend my felicitations. I’m looking for Richard Mwangi and his wife.”
“Of course, sir,” she replied graciously, glancing down at her reservation list. “Yes, they’ve been seated already. If you’ll just follow me,” she said, stepping out for behind the podium. He followed her through the dining room to one of the best tables in the house, in front of the floor to ceiling windows with a view of the water.
“Evening, Richard, Emma,” he said jovially. “Sorry to interrupt your meal.”
“I’m sorry, Ishmael, was there something wrong with the papers?” Richard began to rise from his seat.
Ishmael put a firm hand on his shoulders, stopping him. “Not at all, I simply wished to see the lovely vision that is your wife and wish you both a very happy anniversary.” Richard sank back into his seat, a look of relief fleetingly crossing his features. “Emma, my dear, you look even more ravishing than usual.”
Emma placed a hand at her throat and gave a tinkling laugh. “You are such a flatterer,” she said. “Please, tell me more.”
Ishmael removed his hand from Richard’s shoulder, using it to reach inside his jacket. “If you weren’t already taken…ah, but alas, you are. So, instead, I offer you this humble token of my esteem. For both of you, of course.” He withdrew an envelope and handed it to Emma.
She opened it, revealing the handmade card inside. “It’s beautiful!” She opened it, reading the sentiment. Her eyes quickly fell on the gift card inside. “Oh, Mr Lux, you shouldn’t have!”
“Now, now, none of that. Call me Ishmael.”
“Thank you so much, Ishmael. Look, honey, a gift card to John Lewis.”
“A little birdie told me they have some exquisite cooking knives you’ve been after, and of course, you need a set of those colour-coded chopping boards to go with,” Ishmael said.
“Yes! Thank you!” she gushed.
Ishmael felt warmth suffuse him at her genuine expression of pleasure.
“Yes, thank you so much,” Richard said.
“You’re both welcome. Please, enjoy this on me. Now, I’ll leave you to it. Richard, I’ll have those papers couriered over to you in the morning. Have a good night, now.” Ishmael took his leave. He had his own meal to eat and someone special to have it with. He hoped he’d followed his instructions about getting ready, both explicit and implied.
And if he didn’t, well, that could be good, too.
The hostess glimpsed his smile as he walked past on his way back out. She shivered.
“Everything alright?” Ezra asked him from where he’d waited outside the lift.
“Just fine. I was just wondering how I would end up enjoying my evening.”
Ezra cut his eyes to his boss as they entered the lift and the doors closed before them. “You’re having dinner at home with Kris, correct?”
“Yes, and I was just wondering if he got ready in precisely the way I expected of him or if I would have to issue correction.”
Ezra swallowed. “I hope for his sake that he did.”
“Mmm,” Ishmael hummed in agreement. “Though I wouldn’t mind giving him a teaching moment or three.”
Ezra nodded. He knew well his boss’ appetites.
“So, Ezra, everything settled now with Kris’ former co-workers?”
“There was a lot of general chatter about what a lucky dog he was, catching the attention of the big boss so soon. The woman, Lorraine, she’s a bit of a problem, though. She kept insisting that as his local manager, promotional offers should come through channels and that if your interest is romantic, well, she wanted you to know that he already had someone of interest.”
“Meaning her.”
