She knew he was different by the way he entered.
It wasn’t only the way he dismissed the bubbly waitress-in-training who gushed to welcome him at the door, but also the way he ignored the gesture to be seated and strode past with deliberate purpose to claim the table in the furthest corner. There, he shook off his jacket with an aire of agitation, before swapping one chair for another and seating himself with his back to the wall.
With a single swipe, he pushed the salt and pepper sellers aside, making sure to free his vantage point of clutter. Opening the menu, but refraining from reading it, he summoned the waitress to serve him with one click of his fingers. Hurriedly, she approached his side and nervously began jotting down his itemised memory, while spreading a fake smile across her anxious face.
Like king of the castle, he sat surveying his empire, pinning and honing in on each subject before him, his eyes glaring like strobe lights in search of a victim.
In his blind spot, she sat quietly observing him. Her eyes followed him as he fixed his attention to the adjacent table where a young child with titian braids and translucent skin fumbled at the ruffles on her bobby socks as she blew bubbles into her soda can, while her untidy mother engrossed herself in the face of an i-pad and picked at the corners of her nail. Silently, she watched him cast his interest further ahead to two gentlemen dressed for business, yet flirting in pleasure, and saw how he spied on the lovers as they entwined their fingers around the stem of a single wine glass while one whispered discreetly into the nape of the other. She continued to tail him as he directed his hunt into a padded booth, preying on two ditsy bottle-blondes who sat engrossed in drama as they frantically spewed their meaningless gossip over a pot of tea. All around, waitstaff made every effort to avoid him as they flurried back and forth, conveying orders and passing cluttered trays of soiled dishes in exchange for clean ones.
Covertly, she tracked his interest as it suddenly deflected to a bustle outside and penetrated the window to where a hive of activity was unravelling. As a school bus paused to dump a load of teens onto the tarmac, she cowered as he stalked the animated scholars, watching as he zoomed in on each one, while they jutted their arms like starfish to hug and high-five their best-friends-forever goodbye. Fearfully, she witnessed him stare intently after them, as they scattered like beads into the mozing shoppers and stagnant traffic, seeking pathways to jaywalk home alone.
From her hidden viewpoint, her eyes traced the manicured curve of his smoke-stained hairline from the crest of the widow’s peak to where it fell at the temple and then snaked into tousled waves behind his ears. She observed how he hung back ever-so-slightly beneath the weight of his square shoulders and how his left foot quivered below the table while his right foot lay still. With growing unease, she noted how his stoic expression remained unchanged as the waitress set his meal before him and how he muted his response to her courteous withdrawal. Examining the deep fissures where the corners of his mouth puckered the skin, she observed the way his angular jaw strained to flex and buckle as it ground the food inside it, provoking his apple to fall and resurrect after every swallow.
It wasn’t the influential aura which he exuded while nursing his upper-class drink that disturbed her most, but how it radiated in contrast to the dim etiquette he displayed as he hacked at the bleeding rump on his plate. Running her eyes down his swollen arms, she paused to consider why the corporate cuffs hugging his wrists didn’t align with the weathered hands protruding from them, and what secrets may lie in their truth.
Retracting her unsettled eyes from his confronting presence and shunning quietness, she sealed them safely back into their cribs, while pondering where he had come from, who he belonged to, and where his purpose lay.
Glancing at her watch, Grace signaled to the waitress to tally her bill. Waiting, she folded her napkin into a pouch and dabbed at her lips before poking around her purse to retrieve a cartridge of gloss and apply a new layer.
‘There isn’t anything to pay, Ma’am,’ piped the waitress with prickly eyes.
‘I beg your pardon?’ queried Grace.
‘The gentleman in the far corner has settled your bill in full.’
‘Really?’ she replied, aware of the quick, riveting pulse taking hold of her.
Grace rose swiftly from her chair. She hadn’t considered that he might have seen her watching him. Fidgeting with her crumpled skirt, she ironed her hand over the network of creases in the hope of soothing the panic welling within her.
Just then, she felt a chilling presence behind her and spun around to confront it.
And there he stood, towering above her, plugging her exit. His eyes sucking hers in so that hers couldn’t get out.
