Hopes Of A Clear Sky In Monsoon

Chapter 12

“Sir, you can’t have that table. It is already reserved for someone else.”

“Come on, pretty girl. I like that sofa. Just for half an hour?”

What’s with this man and his strange fixation to the sofa? Radhika thought. He had come to the restaurant twice in the past few days, and had always wanted to sit in the very same place.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Really?” The man raised his voice. “Why exactly can’t you do that? Isn’t a restaurant supposed to accommodate its guests?”

“I’m sorry sir”, Radhika said for the umpteenth time “I’ll find you a better table”

“A fat lot of good this restaurant is to its customers. Can’t believe this place has such good ratings. Where’s your manager? I wish to speak to him.”

“I’m afraid he’s not in at this moment, sir.”

“I’ll wait, then” Saying so, he walked off in a huff to the seat Radhika was showing him to.

Radhika sighed, moving on to the next customer, only to find him looking at her with his eyebrow raised.

And the first thing that came to her mind was, NO FRICKING WAY. Out if the billions of people in the world who could have been there, what were the odds?

The golden eyed devil was standing before her.

Why did he always seem to magically appear every time she was humiliated or embarrassed? Or, was it that embarrassing things happened to her whenever he was around?
Did the Gods come together one day and decide that she would have the shittiest luck in the world?

Carefully arranging her face into as emotionless a mask as she could, she said in her most professional voice, “Have you reserved a table, sir?”

(She was proud of how professional she sounded right now. Well done, Radhika!)

The man looked like he wanted to say something, but he simply shook his head.

“Well then sir, for how many people do you want a table?”

 “I’m here by myself”

“Alright sir, please follow me”, she said, leading him to one of the few vacant and unreserved tables at the corner of the restaurant.

“You could have yielded to the customer’s request”, the man said, as she guided him to the table.

What’s his problem? Does he always like to poke his nose into others’ affairs?

“The table was already reserved for someone else, sir.”

Before he could say anything, she handed him the menu and asked him what he’d like to have.

“I’ll have the lobster ravioli. Can you recommend wine to go with it?”

A pinot noir? Sauvignon Blanc? Chardonnay? Gamay or just sparkling? She had completely forgotten what wine goes with what. She’d tried to memorise the list the maître d’ had given her the night before, but had fallen asleep on the couch that had been her bed for the past couple of days (the awkward position she’d slept in last night didn’t do any favours in terms of her aching back, and resultant foul mood, but that was another story). Why were there so many foreign names of wines going with so many dishes, most of which she had never tasted in her life?

 “I’d recommend the Merlot.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ummm…. yes?” Be confident, Radhika. Fake it till you make it.

“The wine which goes with lobster ravioli is Chardonnay.”

Just then, the maître d’ came running towards her, wearing her most servile expression. To say that Radhika was confused was an understatement.

“Sir, when did you arrive?”

The maître d’ was literally sweating by now. Why was she so nervous for a single customer? Radhika thought.

“Just now, Lipika. How do you train the waitresses nowadays? A customer was dissatisfied with our services because she couldn’t handle his special request. She doesn’t even know how wine pairings are made.” He said, and though his expression remained calm as ever, and his voice even and low, Radhika could feel that he was angry. She saw Lipika’s eyes widen.

Who exactly is this man?

“I-I-I’m sorry sir. I’ll train her better.”

“You better do so,” the man said, his voice lower than ever. “I will not have customers leaving my restaurant for lack of proper etiquette of the staff.”

“Y-yes sir”.

Wait a minute – did the man say, “my restaurant”?

“Now please go and prepare my office as I go talk to the customer.”

“Would you like to have a drink, sir?” Lipika asked in a timid voice.

“The same as I always have.” The man was practically snapping by now, and Radhika wanted to get as far away from him as possible. In fact, she wanted to run back to her village, death threat or not, at this very moment.

As the man turned away, Lipika gestured her to follow her to the back of the restaurant. She already wanted to start crying, anticipating the earful she was going to get.

The man turned around once again. “Send her to my office after closing up, Lipika.”

No, no, oh no……this was bound to turn her shitty day into a shittier one.