Finn glanced away hastily as Mr. Sayed swept him a cursory glance, his golden eyes almost an exact mirror of his daughter's. The tall man cut an imposing figure, a perfectly pressed charcoal gray suit enhancing his broad shoulders and fit physique.
The man directly behind Mr. Sayed looked about the same age, though his hair was peppered with more gray. Both men carried themselves with the same air of self-importance, as people who were used to commanding attention. The other two guests trailed behind them—Eden, and another tall young man who couldn't have been more than a year or two older than Finn.
Eden studiously avoided his gaze as she strode past, red-soled heels clicking on the wooden floor. It wasn't an unusual sight; everyone who came to Giovanni's was always dressed to the nines. Finn had seen people in outfits that cost more money than he'd ever had or ever would have in his life, but none of them compared to the dark-haired vision in front of him. The ivory silk of her dress clung to her like a second skin, her glossy hair a shifting curtain over the thin straps that crisscrossed her exposed back.
He'd already seen her without clothes on, but the sight of her in this dress made his mouth run dry. He surreptitiously snagged a champagne flute from one of the other passing waiters and downed it in one quick gulp. Thankfully his parents were still busy in the kitchen, or that would've landed him in some serious hot water.
Someone grabbed his arm, and he turned to see his sister glaring at him. "What the fuck? We're working, Finn!"
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just—"
"Whatever. I won't tell Mom and Dad as long as you handle the Sayeds. No way in hell am I serving them." She turned and left before he could reply.
He gritted his teeth. Fine, then. Plastering a smile on his face, he braced himself and swept graciously into the private alcove where Qadir Sayed and his guests were seated. "Good afternoon, sirs, ma'am," he addressed, in his politest voice. "Could I interest you in anything to drink?"
Qadir Sayed hardly bothered to look up, still glancing over the menu with pursed lips and a haughty expression that was reminiscent of his daughter's. "Just water." His voice was deep and commanding, tinged with the barest hint of an accent.
Finn nodded, taking the chance to look at the last occupant of the table. He'd been too distracted by Eden earlier to pay attention to the boy that had come in with them. He shared the same dark hair and tan skin as the other three, but his features were much more angular. If he had to hazard a guess, Finn would say he and the other man were related.
He ducked out of the alcove and went to fetch glasses of water from the kitchen. Their relation wasn't any of his business. He was just here to help his parents out, and hopefully to avoid incurring the wrath of the immensely influential elder Sayed.
The more Finn learned about Eden, the more he'd kicked himself for not realizing who she was when they'd met. A simple Google search had revealed that her father was the CEO of Sayed Atlantic, one of the biggest business conglomerates in the world. SA had a hand in everything from the oil industry to Silicon Valley's newest tech. Qadir Sayed's influence was unparalleled, which was why this evening had to go off without a hitch.
If Finn slipped up and brought the business that his parents had fought to build from the ground up crashing down, he'd never forgive himself. So, he put on his brightest grin and returned promptly with four glasses of water, setting them carefully down in front of the guests.
"Are there any questions or concerns regarding the menu?" he asked politely. "Our specialty is currently focused on Egyptian cuisine, but we do have a classic seven-course meal that is served year-round."
"Yes, we know all about your so-called specialty courses." Qadir Sayed finally glanced up, surprise flickering across his golden irises as he looked at Finn. "You seem a little young to be working at an establishment like this." Though the words themselves weren't necessarily cutting, the condescending undercurrent of his message was obvious.
Finn made sure the calm, smiling expression was planted firmly on his face before he responded. "I get that a lot, sir." Across the table, the other young man leaned over to Eden and muttered something under his breath, smirking at Finn. Judging from the way Eden frowned and looked away, it wouldn't have been anything he wanted to hear.
Qadir Sayed scrutinized Finn, peering at him with a steely gaze. "What did you say your name was?"
He hadn't introduced himself on purpose, but he supposed there was no way around it now. "Finnegan McMahon, sir."
"McMahon? This must be your parents' restaurant, then."
"Yes, it is." Finn punctuated his sentence with a slightly strained smile. He wasn't sure how the other man would reactdemand a different server, accuse his parents of nepotism, storm out and write a scathing Yelp review? He hoped none of the above, but he wouldn't put anything past Qadir.
Instead, Qadir chuckled. "Well, as my father always said, when it comes to business, there's no one you can trust more than family. That's how I got the company, eh? Helping out the family business; now that's a noble pursuit. My daughter could stand to learn from your example."
Across the table, Eden rolled her eyes. Finn wasn't sure how to respond, but luckily the other man with the salt-and-pepper hair spoke up. "An excellent point, Qadir, and one that Seth and I certainly agree with." The boy sitting beside Eden straightened at the sound of his name.
Mr. Sayed shut his menu, handing it to Finn. "We'll have the tasting menu with the wine pairing."
Finn collected the menus and left the group to their probable business discussion, not bothering to ask for IDs, despite the fact that Eden and possibly Seth were underage. Besides, with clientele this exclusive, underage drinking was the least of their worries.
Abby was in the kitchen taking a break with a couple other servers when he arrived. "How's it going with the demon table?" she murmured, low enough to prevent their parents from overhearing.
"Honestly, not too bad," he said. "Let's hope the rest of the meal goes this smoothly."
She snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that. Better you than me to handle that table, in any case."
That much was certainly true. Knowing Abby, she would find a way to "accidentally" spill a full glass of wine on Eden's expensive-looking dress. Needless to say, that situation wouldn't end well for anyone—especially not the restaurant's reputation.
As Finn brought out and introduced course after course of the Egyptian dishes his parents had carefully selected and prepared, he was relieved to note that all four occupants of the table seemed pleased with the quality of the food. He also couldn't help but overhear snippets of their conversation as he cleared away the plates. It seemed that Seth was preparing to step up into a larger role at his father's company. Ibrahim Al-Haroun was nearing retirement, but he wanted to make sure his son was well-equipped for his new role as CEO of Capstone Energy before he took that step back.
The actual logistics of the conversation were lost on Finn, especially given that most of it was in a guttural language he assumed was Arabic. From the few sentences of English that he caught, it sounded like Sayed Atlantic was negotiating for more shares in Capstone Energy, to further solidify their pre-existing business partnership. He also couldn't help but notice that Eden seemed disinterested in the negotiations. Qadir, Ibrahim, and Seth had dominated the conversation, but Finn got the impression that Eden had just as much to say and was instead choosing not to say it.
On a pass to the kitchen, he glanced at the clock and swore under his breath when it read a quarter past 7. They'd been discussing the proposition for three hours already? Finn had practice at 8:30 and he needed at least half an hour to make it out of the city and back to Overland Park. And seeing as it was his team's last practice before their first game of the season, he really couldn't risk being late. Thankfully there was only one course left in the tasting menu; if he brought it out now, he might be able to leave the restaurant in time.
Worst case scenario, he supposed he could ask someone else to take over. But then he'd be seen as the height of unprofessional, which was an impression he couldn't afford to leave the two CEOs with. Sighing, he took out his phone and shot a quick text to his coach to explain the situation.
As he prepared to set the last course in front of the table's occupants, a stray sentence of their conversation nearly caused him to drop the platter. He just barely caught himself in time, the words bouncing around his skull.
"...hope you'll consider the offer," Qadir was saying. "This is the ideal opportunity for expansion, even beyond just our two businesses."
"Expansion beyond business? What are you proposing, Qadir?" Ibrahim asked.
The elder Sayed smiled, though it wasn't exactly a warm expression. "Nothing concrete right now, of course, but perhaps in a few years, Sayed Atlantic and Capstone Energy could truly be a family enterprise."
It wasn't difficult to read between the lines of that suggestion, especially when Mr. Sayed gazed pointedly at his daughter and then at Seth. Finally, Eden's expression shifted from disinterest to direct disdain, while Seth's face soured. It was clear neither of them appreciated their futures being essentially pimped out for the sake of business.
Finn set the plates down as quickly as he could manage, wanting to escape before the rising tension overflowed.
"I don't know how many times I've told you this, baba, but I have no interest in the business, and even less in dating someone just so you can absorb another company into Sayed Atlantic." Eden crossed her arms. "You need to let me plan my own future."
Seth fixed his father with a cool glare. "I thought we were here strictly to talk business."
"This is business!" Ibrahim said, sweeping an arm out and nearly catching Finn in the stomach as he tried to edge past them. His face had slowly reddened from the wine pairing with each course, and his voice had steadily grown louder. "Your future in the business!"
"Eden, it's time you started to take your future more seriously," Qadir countered. He was still perfectly put together despite the alcohol. "I know you like to play soccer, and we've indulged you for years, but it's not a viable career path, especially once you're at university."
The two of them continued arguing in Arabic, and Finn ducked out of the alcove. He could understand Qadir Sayed's concern about his daughter's future, but clearly her happiness and passion took a backseat to maximizing profit. Offering your seventeen-year-old daughter to advance your own business? That sort of ruthlessness was undoubtedly the root of his success. Clearly, he was every inch the fierce businessman his reputation preceded him as.
Finn shook his head and walked toward the kitchen. His own opinions didn't matter; he was just here to serve their food and cater to their every whim. He checked the clock, noting that he only had half an hour before he would certainly be late to practice.
With the argument that was definitely ensuing behind the closed curtain of the private dining alcove, Finn had no desire to interrupt any earlier than he had to. But when the clock showed that he needed to start heading out in fifteen minutes, he had to put the customer service mask back on and face the storm.
Thankfully, the plates were at least empty, meaning he could clear the table. The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. Eden and Seth glared at opposite sides of the room. Ibrahim Al-Haroun's face was flushed, from both alcohol and anger, beady black eyes narrowed at his son. Qadir Sayed had a similar expression on his face, though the effect was much more severe than his counterpart's.
Just as Finn picked up the last plate, Seth abruptly stood up and pushed his chair back, directly into his path and colliding with his hip. The intricately decorated porcelain slipped from his fingers and shattered on the wooden floor.
The younger Al-Haroun looked at him with clear disgust. Obviously, no apology would be forthcoming. Finn gritted his teeth for a moment and dripped his head, forcing his voice to be perfectly level. "My sincerest apologies for this accident. I'll be back shortly to take care of this." He and Seth left the alcove at the same time. The other boy paused outside the alcove, pulling a cigar out of his suit pocket.
"Ya Allah, the level of incompetence here is astounding," Seth muttered, just loudly enough for him to hear. "And this boy's hair is such an unfortunate color. Who wants to walk around looking like carrots are growing out of their head?" He strode toward the entrance without another glance back, but both of them knew his words had been received.
Finn ignored him, grabbing a dustpan and some gloves and stiffly cleaning up the shattered mess in the private dining area. He fumed silently. At least the food had been served completely. All he had to do now was bring out the check, and then jet to practice before he lost playing time for being late, which he really couldn't afford if he still wanted to get that call from UVA.
He dumped the remains of the plate in the glassware disposal, near the back of the kitchen, and returned to the table yet again. He was barely able to keep the impatience out of his tone as he asked, "Is there anything else I can do or get for you tonight?"
A muscle twitched in Qadir Sayed's cheek as he continued glaring at his stubborn daughter. "No, I believe we're done here. Just bring me the check."
"Right away, sir." Finn handed the sleek checkbook to him and left to let the man look over the bill. The prices of the food here would never cease to amaze him, especially considering the surprisingly low revenue his parents turned from it. The tasting menu and wine pairing for only four people totaled nearly two grand. And that was before gratuity, though he wasn't optimistic about Mr. Sayed's tipping policies.
He came back after running the man's black Centurion card through their system. "I hope you've enjoyed your meal and time at Giovanni's. We would love to see you again!"
"Yes, the food was good," murmured Mr. Al-Haroun. He seemed to have calmed down somewhat, after the hasty departure of his son, and was now staring lazily at the bottle of Bordeaux on the table.
Qadir grunted. "Indeed." He stood and brushed off his blazer before striding out of the alcove, with Ibrahim Al-Haroun following close behind.
Eden kept her head down as the two men left the area. For the briefest moment, when it was just the two of them in the room, she looked up and met his gaze for the first time that night. A mixture of anger and embarrassment lingered in her eyes, but she was quick to return to her usual disdainful expression, and the moment of vulnerability disappeared. She swept gracefully out of the room a moment later, the sound of her heels fading as she followed her father toward the entrance.
Finn heaved a deep sigh. God, having a customer service job sucked ass. Despite the fact that the evening had gone relatively well, minus the plate he'd dropped, he was still exhausted. And he still had a grueling practice ahead of him, but he needed to take care of the table before he could go.
He opened the checkbook and peeked inside. His jaw dropped. The man had left him $2000 on a $2000 meal. As in, a 100% tip. He couldn't believe his eyes. There had to be some kind of catch.
Finn gathered the empty wineglasses and napkins quickly, pushing his surprise to the back of his mind. He had to get to practice. Hastily, he put the dishes in the sink and sprinted through the back door, ignoring his parents' nagging questions about how the dinner had gone.