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"I sit in my bed for most of the night, thinking through these thoughts of the mystery person, getting little to no sleep because of it."
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A few days after training, on a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon, Thomas, Amara, and I go to restaurant in downtown Gotham for some brunch. When we arrive, we hop out of the Uber, and head inside. Thomas heads up to the hostess at the desk to get a table for us. Amara and I take a seat in the waiting area, and sit quietly as we listen to the music playing on the speakers. Clattering plates and utensils can be heard, and muffled voices peacefully fill the space the music doesn't.
I gaze around the restaurant and study my surroundings. There's a bar on the right side of the large room. The chairs are packed with laughing people, a little tipsy from the alcohol. The restaurant itself is a bright white and pristinely decorated with wooden tables and grey cushioned chairs. The floors are a black and white tile pattern and the walls are a plain white that fits the space well.
After five or so minutes, Thomas still hasn't returned. Amara rises beckons me to follow her. I follow Amara, tracking her by her white dress that flows out behind her and large golden earring dangling from one ear. We stop at the desk where Thomas pleads with the hostess. Amara steps right up and interrupts their conversation.
"Excuse me," she intervenes. "But what seems to be the hold up here?" Her manner is polite and she plasters a kind smile on, but her voice is tinted with a subtle annoyance that only those who were really listening could pick up.
The hostess responds in a similar manner. "As you can see, we are very packed her at this time, and I was just telling this man here," she gestures to Thomas, "that our next table will be available in forty-five minutes to an hour." Amara gives the woman a poisonous smile than leans in towards her, placing both her elbows on the counter.
"Do you know who that man there is?" Amara says quietly, but loud enough so her voice isn't drowned out by the music. The hostess keeps her smile plastered on, but looks mildly confused by Amara's statement. "That there is Mr. Williams, the CEO of Grawis Corporations." The hostess finally drops her smile and looks to Thomas her mouth slightly ajar. She quickly types something into the computer in front of her.
"How many will it be Mr. Williams?" She asks, her smile plastered back on. Thomas responds, shocked that Amara's tactic worked. The hostess grabs the menus and leads up to a table in the back, near a large booth. We take our seats and wait for our waitress or waiter to arrive.
"That was so badass," I praise Amara. She smirks and shrugs as she picks up her menu.
"The girl's just doing her job, and I commend her for staying for polite and calm, but I was hungry." She flips through her menu, pushing it off like it was a random occurrence. Our waitress comes by, a sweet woman who looks to be in her mid twenties, and we order our drinks. A few minutes later, she brings our drinks over and then takes our menus after we order our food.
"I was thinking about going on vacation this summer," Thomas says, starting a conversation.
YOU ARE READING
Ghost Girl II
ActionThe end of freshmen year approaches at Gotham Academy for Karsyn Williams. Her life has gone back to normal for the most part. She has a good group of friends at school, a team that understands her, and an adoptive father that loves her. Just as sum...
