Five Fellas and a Funeral

Day 7 Part 3: Choice C

C. Get something from the buffet

"Friend of yours?" Ford asks, nodding in Jay's direction as he darts away.

"I wouldn't say that."

I give Ford a look so apologetic you'd think we were at a confessional. "Mind if I break away to get something to eat? I was running late and skipped breakfast this morning."

Ford does his best to hide his disappointment behind a polite smile. "I don't mind at all, Miss Novak, go right ahead."

On instinct, he tries to tip his cap to me. Once he realizes he's out of uniform and there is no hat upon his head, he blushes before giving me space to browse the buffet.

Some tabletops house gleaming metal containers filled with popular American breakfast foods such as scrambled eggs, sausage, and hash browns. Other host platters loaded with labeled French pastries: croissants, beignets, pain au chocolat, chaussons aux pommes, and many more line the eggshell-colored dishes. Glass bowls containing various sliced fruits are commonplace throughout the buffet line, and there's a whole table of delicate stemware filled with a mix of champagne and orange juice.

My eyes are wide as they take all of this in, as I look around I even notice custom omelet and crepe stations, both of which manned by a chef. I load up my plate with pastries and fruit before looking for a drink to enjoy along with my food.

Every so often in-between buffet tables they'll be a luxurious-looking consumer-grade espresso machine and a large container of hot water accompanied by an assortment of teas.

I grab a bag of Earl Grey and fill up a petite, cream-colored ceramic coffee cup with some of the water. I rip open the tea bag and start the steeping process as I hunt down the emptiest table I can find to minimize the chances I'll have to make small talk.

The taste of my chaussons au pommes is exquisite, the tartness of the apple filling mixing perfectly with the buttery, sweet dough. I stir some sugar and milk that I nabbed from the coffee station earlier in with my tea, removing the tea bag before taking a sip.

I sigh as the warm liquid hits my throat, soothing me on its journey down to my stomach. It's so lovely.

I continue eating my meal in a mixture of joy and bliss, happy with my decision to come here today. Food is life.

~~~

There's a few gasps in the crowd to my right and my eyes search through the people to find what the fuss is about.

A tall, lithe woman with a pixie cut is standing in front of Jasper with a fire in her eyes and an empty glass in her hand. Jasper's outfit solves the mystery of her missing drink; water droplets fall from his black suit jacket as a wet splotch slowly spreads throughout his button-down shirt.

"I've heard the cops are investigating Sophia's death as a murder now, Jasper. You were supposed to pick her up from my party that night! If you had just done what you promised, asshole, some sicko wouldn't have followed her home and killed her!"

A middle-aged blonde woman stands up from a table with a picture of Sophia as its centerpiece, the photo partially obscured with a black veil. Sitting beside the blonde's now vacant seat lies a well-dressed older gentleman. His gaze flitters to her for a moment, before checking his watch and resuming God-knows-what on his mobile phone.

I would bet hard cash the two of them have matching gold bands wrapped around their fingers.

"Now, now, Ruby, that is enough. Please settle down or I will have to have you escorted out." Voices quiet all around me as the stylishly-dressed older woman speaks, all eyes darting over to that side of the room.