Vice

28: Luncheon

Not another word is spoken during the drive to the luncheon. 

The silence burns like fire, igniting tension in Natara's chest. What has she done? She implied to Mr. Vice that she didn't want to let go of what happened the night before. But why did she do that? What was she thinking? And what's going to happen now that she has?

Mr. Vice turns the car into a huge parking lot that wraps around a white building as large as a castle. The building looks very Greek, with a rounded staircase leading to grandiose double doors surrounded on both sides by pillars. The outside walls are pure glass, and through the walls Natara sees an expansive ballroom with dinner tables and a stage at the back.

Natara helps herself out of the car before Mr. Vice comes around - not like he probably would have gotten the door for her, anyway, after everything that happened. All of the people walking into the building are dressed like stars and many of them look as pretty as models - both the men and the women. They walk with their shoulders back and confident strides.

Natara struggles to maintain balance on her heels. She can't replicate the kind of confidence these people exude. She feels so out of place.

Mr. Vice hands his keys to a valet and approaches Natara. A shadow from one of the pillars falls across his face - cloaking his green eyes in a grey hue - and he places his hand at the small of her back, leading her toward the building's entrance. Heat creeps into Natara's cheeks and she wobbles on her shoes but Mr. Vice's touch holds firm, guiding her with every stumble.

It may not be a big deal to Mr. Vice to place his hand on the small of her back - it's likely something he does with all of his secretaries at every luncheon - but to Natara it's a huge deal. Even James didn't ever touch her like this. His hand fits perfectly into the curve of her back, his thumb rubbing in gentle circles as they climb the stairs toward the entrance.

Two workers standing at either side of the entry doors nod to Mr. Vice as he leads Natara inside.

Seeing the inside of the building through the outside windows is nothing like seeing it inside. Glass blown tulips sit on every marble table - spaced evenly across the glossy floor - and the walls glitter with sparkling paint as they lead to a clear glass ceiling.

"Axius, pleasure to see you. Is your father coming?" An older man approaches. He's dressed in a gray suit with white stitching embellishments along every seam. He removes a rose from his suit pocket and hands it to Natara, who hesitates for a moment and nervously accepts it.

Mr. Vice offers his free hand in a handshake and Natara watches him carefully. Mr. Vice's plush lips are pulled into a thin, tight line when he smiles at this man, and Natara realizes exactly why. It's a fake smile. She wonders why he's forcing it. 

"Mr. Dara," Mr. Vice flatly replies, "sorry to let you down but my father had an urgent meeting. He trusts I'll fill him in on which organizations he needs to donate to." 

Mr. Dara stiffen and his smile fades. When he speaks again his voice is shaky. "Well, I'm sure if your father were here he'd be very interested in my proposal for a new Baptist Church on the corner of town."