The Rules of the Red - 2014 Watty Award Winner |✓|

Chapter One - Part One

“Name?” she asked stiffly, after cutting me off with a sigh.

“Naomi,”

“Well, that name isn’t on my list. And I would know – I’ve been staring at it all day,”

“I’m here to see a Mr. Edward Talbot,” was my reply, full of dogged civility. “And my full name is Naomi Elizabeth Noble. But it might just be listed as Noble.”

I waited with the kind of patient grace achieved from a successful coup d’état, watching good-naturedly as her face turned a peculiar shade of green. All signs of her former severe dignity had vanished now, and she stood before me – still quite tall – but somehow much smaller in demeanor than she had been initially.

I grinned in victory.

“Noble…Noble…”

She skimmed a page in her large appointment book, came to a stop, and then looked up with a fearful sort of regret.

“I do apologize, Miss Noble. I hope you don’t mind my asking, but would you happen to be of any relation to Paris Noble?”

“As a matter of fact…”

I leaned toward her with a sarcasm that could only come naturally.

“That happens to be my mother, but strictly on the biological sense.”

“Uh, right this way…”

And the hostess gave me one, final, harassed look before leading me to a secluded section of the restaurant. She pulled out a seat at a small, but comfortable table full of sparkling silverware and golden dishes, and then handed me the menu, which I gratefully accepted.

“Miss Noble, can I get you anything to drink?” she inquired in a much more pleasant tone than earlier.

“Um, just water, please.”

“Or a bottle of champagne, perhaps? We’ve just received the best year on hand.”

“That’s ok, but I’m only eighteen so –”

“On the house.”

She gave me a last, sickly smile, and then made a quick retreat. And I didn’t have long to wait after that before a server came gliding up to my table. He was holding a round, golden platter that supported a sweating bottle of Dom, a pitcher of ice water with lemon, and four champagne flutes. And within another ten minutes of that, I was already partaking in an extremely rare steak, with potatoes, roasted vegetables, and a Caesar salad.

While munching quietly and waiting for Mr. Talbot, I wondered at all of the new royalties this “Noble” name was suddenly affording me. Because for the first time in a while, I was actually being treated with respect – and by complete strangers no less. And I realized with quiet exhilaration, that my name had suddenly become a whip that gave the satisfying crack of a person who was in total authority. Gingerly I sipped the champagne, which allowed warm thoughts of contentment and gratification to enter my mind. In fact, I had become so intrigued by my own observations, that Mr. Talbot went completely unnoticed until he was standing right above me and clearing his throat.