as I really needed to get back to
focusing more on hunting. I’d been out of the hunt for a week and needed to
get back, so those dumb vitans would leave my city.
“Usually, I would love
to, but they specifically asked for the person who created the idea,” he said. I
found it odd, but whatever—I would do it. I did feel that I owed them, since I’d
missed the week. I’d just hunt double-time tomorrow.
*****
I
arrived at Almelo’s just as the sun was setting. It was 7:45 and the meeting
was at 8:00, so I opened the heavy, gold-plated door. This place was fancier
than I had expected. The host, and most people around me, were in formal dress-wear.
I was in my business suit that had cost me a pretty penny, but I still felt
underdressed. My boss had told me it was a nice place, but this was like one
of those places where people proposed in cheesy movies, where the boyfriend would
drop the ring in the champagne and the girlfriend would cry. I walked up to
the hostess stand.
“Hello,
I’m here for a business meeting with a client named Braxton Caloman,” I told
the host.
“Oh
certainly,” he said quite femininely as he looked me up and down, but only
because he was clearly disgusted in what I was wearing, not because he was
interested. “Follow me. Mr. Caloman is waiting your attendance at booth sixty-six.
If you’ll just wait a moment, I’ll take you to your seat.” He grabbed a menu
and motioned for me to follow him. The place was beautiful, and now that I had
gotten a full view of the restaurant, I definitely felt out of place. It had
low, dim lighting with a beautiful, white lily candlelit centerpiece at each
table. The booths had either a light-yellow or cream colored tablecloth. I
almost ran into the host as I was admiring the place, but looked up just in
time to see him stop a foot in front of me. He moved to let me pass him to
take my seat. I stood, shocked for a minute as I looked down at Mr. Caloman.
My
eyes started to rapidly blink as if they didn’t really believe this was my
client. I watched as the man sitting in the booth got up, like a southern
gentleman, when he saw I had arrived. My eyes wandered up as he rose. He had
to be at least six-foot-seven. It was rare that I had to really look up to see
a man’s face, but his was something I wouldn’t mind getting a neck-ache over.
He had an angelic face with a slight edge that made me feel as if he were
powerful. He had prominent cheekbones and full lips with gleaming white,
perfectly straight teeth. His black hair was short—if I had to guess, an inch-and-a-half
long—and in that messy but adorable style that most men seemed to be wearing
now.
Below
his hair were a pair of light, grey-colored eyes that were beautiful but seemed
to be the only non-exceptional thing about him. Don’t get me wrong, they were
eyes I was definitely lost in, but they seemed to be out of place. A lot of
people were doing this now with colored contacts. I wondered what color his eyes
really were. Usually a person’s complexion gave this away. His was a pale,
olive color, like an Italian who didn’t tan. It was a breathtaking—but different—color
I’d only seen on… My eyes raced to the bracelet that never left my wrist. I
let out a sigh of relief that it was just plain, old black.
“Hello,
Ms. Raupp. I’m so happy to meet you,” he said with a deep, soothing, strong
tone.
“Same
to you, Mr. Caloman,” I said, and we took our seats on opposite sides of the
booth. I always hated the beginning of a meeting as they were always so
awkward, and being at a place that was clearly for couples, made it more
awkward.
“Have
you been here before?” he asked, probably sensing my awkwardness.
“No,
but I’ve heard good things,” I replied with a fake smile. I hated small-talk.
“Yeah,
a bit too fancy, if you ask me, but the board insists on it. I guess it helps
portray the