Chapter 1:The Introduction

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"Ma'am, " I said to catch the woman walking out the door. "You dropped this."  I handed over the business card which had slipped out of a pocket of hers. A divorce attorney's card.

"Rough day," I thought to myself as she plucked it from my hand and placed her shades over her puffy eyes. She didn't look distraught, calm and collected in fact, but like all the guests who come and go, she was gone without another word or observation. She wasn't a regular either. I most likely won't see her again.

A tray of plates being dropped soon caught my thoughts again. "Damn," I whispered. "We just ordered those." I frowned as I went to help pick up and sweep the pieces when I heard the door creek open again. Never a moment to rest. I sighed and straightened myself as I begged the clock to move faster towards closing. I smoothed my skirt as I welcomed more guests and apologized for the mess. The moments ticked past as slowly as molasses from its tap.

"Hey, Jane!" A man's voice called out my name and I turned from the stand to see who it was. It was Dean, the second banana bartender. I smiled softly and nodded my head in response as I worked on tips for the servers. "How's the manager that cares doing today?" He asked.

I shrugged and pouted my lips. "Alright, but I'd be better if you just ran away with me," I casually sighed before batting my eyelashes. He scoffed as he tossed his coat over his arm and winked.

"I'm already engaged to two other women,but as soon as I'm free, I'll give you the first call."

"And if I don't answer?" I teased.

"Then I'll be heart broken until girl number two answers."

We laughed at each other but whatever gets you through the shift is alright. I sat my bag down on the hook as I looked out through the large bay windows of the front of our restaurant. I could see a vehicle swerving through the parking lot and a head of hair fluttering in the wind. A convertible, how typical in this playground of those who seek to look rich but hesitate to tip more than fifteen percent when they beg to take the part's ticket.

The man driving screeched on his break as he found a spot out front. He seemed to be in a hurry but for what? A fire. This man had no lower gear to shift into. He left the top of his car down and it looked like it was full of some sort of equipment. I went to my stand as I awaited this man to break down the door upon entry.

He made quick work of the flight of stairs out front, not a drop of sweat upon his forehead on this blistering day. I studied the man as he collected himself in front of me. His smile was perfect, dazzlingly white which stood out against his red cheeks and paired well with his white shoulder length hair. A blue scarf and white fishing shirt paired with dark denim jeans and tortoise shelled sun shades made quite an image. He seemed well put together but his age I couldn't quite tack down and as he removed his shades, it became even harder. His eyes sparkled like the blue sea out the front door and likely from where he came.

"I'm so sorry to be late," he huffed, putting away his keys. "I was out on the water today and forgot about the time. Is Michael here?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, well I mean maybe," I stuttered. "Do you mean Michael Kerns the owner?" My brow furrowed as I set aside the guest list.

"Yes. I have a meeting with him at 4:15 and it's now 4:25," he said, frowning slightly as he looked at his watch, only noticing now how late he was.

"No and Mr. Kern didn't tell me of a meeting. Shall I call him on his personal number, sir?" I picked up the receiver of our phone in my hand.

"Please do. He might have forgotten as well,"he said with a laugh. "How fortunate that would be! The first meeting I'm late for and he forgets." He was loud and boisterous. It made me smile to see someone so apparently enjoying themselves with their day. I suppose not allo Mondays are the same. I dialed the number to the Kern residence and was answered by a small female voice, one of the kids I assumed. I had alerted their girl, Moira as I came to learn was her name, about the predicament at the Palais and wondered if Mr. Kern was around. I was then notified Mr. Kern would be suddenly out of town for the day amd tomorrow but would be back Wednesday morning. No one was to page him. "Thank you," I said to the girl before she hung up.

"I'm sorry Mr.," I paused for a moment as I looked to the gentleman now at my desk.

"Oh," He said with another soft laugh. "Marcus Brennyn."

(*cut* and scene.)

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