Second Hand Waitress

Kira Samia’s face burned as Tesah Clover’s eyes narrowed at her. She quickly tapped the page of her notebook to confirm she was paying attention, though she hadn’t written a thing related to the meeting. When his sharp gaze followed the movement, she snapped the book shut, hiding her doodles and scribbles. She forced a casual smile, silently promising herself to check his Dictaphone later to catch whatever she'd missed. No problem.

Tesah's voice interrupted her thoughts, his tone cold and commanding. “Well? What’s your response?”

Panic flared. What did he mean? Was she supposed to know something?

“Yes, I’ve got it,” Kira replied slowly, speaking as though addressing someone who had zoned out. The sharp arch of his brow told her she’d made things worse.

He leaned toward her slightly, and she instinctively leaned back, avoiding the intimidating presence. “What’s the last thing I said?”

Kira hesitated before confessing, “I didn’t catch the end.” Tesah’s expression shifted into something that resembled thinly veiled disgust. She could feel herself shrinking under the weight of his judgment.

“I need you to organize a meeting with Craig, Josh, Ryan, Marita, Emmanuel, White, and me this afternoon at three-thirty,” Tesah ordered, his voice firm and leaving no room for questions.

Quickly, Kira opened her notebook and jotted it down. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Ms.Marita , the overly sweet but sly assistant, stepping closer. “You may use this conference room for the meeting, Samia,” she added in perfect English.

Kira's jaw tightened. They all spoke English? How frustrating that they hadn’t even acknowledged her language struggles earlier. She shook the irritation off and started making calls to arrange the meeting, grateful when the attendees, likely waiting for this moment, picked up almost immediately.

By the time she had everything arranged, Tesah had resumed speaking to the Medina executives. When he glanced at her from across the room, she gave a small nod to signal she’d done her part. He didn’t acknowledge her effort, turning back to his conversation without a word.

Suppressing her annoyance, Kira focused on compiling a list of necessary documents for the next meeting. She was deep in thought when Tesah’s voice startled her.

“Are you coming? Ms. Tania has set up lunch for us.” His tone was neutral, but she didn’t miss the flicker of impatience in his eyes.

Relieved at the mention of food, Kira stood too quickly, her hunger and exhaustion making her sway slightly. Tesah’s hand gripped her elbow, steadying her.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, his voice low but annoyed.

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning’s meal,” she replied defensively.

Tesah’s frown deepened. “That’s not true. We had dinner last night, and you had breakfast this morning.”

Kira let out an incredulous huff. “You had dinner and breakfast. You didn’t order enough for me at dinner, and if you think a single strip of bacon and one bite of eggs counts as breakfast, we clearly have different definitions of a meal.”

He seemed to consider her words before glancing at the table of pastries she’d been eyeing earlier. “So that’s why you’ve been staring at those pastries like your life depends on them.”

Was that a hint of amusement in his voice? She couldn’t tell, but she wasn’t in the mood to find out. “I’m starving,” she said flatly, her frustration barely contained.

Tesah nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “We’ll fix that now.”

But when lunch was served, Kira wanted to cry. The plate of sushi in front of her was beautifully arranged but minuscule, more of an art than food. While she wasn’t a fan of Japanese cuisine, she would’ve eaten anything at that point. But this? It was barely a snack.

She reached for her chopsticks, ready to dig in, when Tesah’s hand clamped down on her thigh, startling her. She froze, her eyes darting to his impassive face. He tilted his head toward Mr. White, who was still speaking. The reminder of cultural etiquette flashed through her mind, eating before the host gave permission was considered rude.

Sinking back into her chair, Kira fought the urge to groan. This trip was shaping up to be far more difficult than she’d anticipated.

Kira stared at the sushi on her plate, trying to muster enthusiasm but failing miserably. At least it wouldn’t get cold, she thought bitterly. Back in the boardroom, Tesah Clover was probably indulging in stale doughnuts, blissfully unaware of her struggle with the tiny portions in front of her. Finally, Mr. White stopped speaking, and everyone began eating with practiced elegance.

“You’re quite skilled with chopsticks, Clover-san,” Ms. Marita remarked sweetly to Tesah, who was seated beside her. Kira rolled her eyes internally. As if Tesah needed more reasons to be insufferably smug. He acknowledged the compliment with a polite nod while Kira forced herself to eat, feeling increasingly queasy.

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Her discomfort peaked when a plate of sashimi arrived. The shrimp were still moving weakly, their tiny bodies writhing on the plate. Kira’s stomach churned. She swallowed hard, trying not to gag.

"Don’t even think about it," Tesah murmured, leaning slightly toward her, his expression calm yet firm.

“They’re alive,” Kira whispered, horrified.

“Of course,” Mr. Tony said, his tone friendly and encouraging. “Fresh shrimp. You must try.”

Kira shook her head, horrified at the idea of eating something still alive. She turned pleading eyes to Tesah, hoping he’d intervene. Without a word, he picked up a shrimp with his chopsticks, dipped it in soy sauce, and popped it into his mouth.

"Problem solved," he said dryly. "Letting them wriggle like that is just cruel."

Grateful but annoyed, Kira managed a weak smile. The group laughed, and the tension eased slightly. But as the dishes became more exotic, Kira’s appetite dwindled further. By the end of the meal, she was too tired and nauseous to care about the delicate portions she’d barely touched.

As the group prepared to leave, Tesah turned to her. "Kira, contact the driver and return to the hotel to draft those reports we discussed earlier," he instructed.

She blinked, confused. “I don’t remember discussing any reports.”

Tesah sighed, his tone softening slightly. “There are no reports. Go back, take a shower, order some room service, and rest. You’ve had a long day, and an even longer night.” His voice dropped lower, the weight of his words making her cheeks flush. “I need you sharp tomorrow.”

Relieved, she nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Go on now, before I change my mind,” he added, his tone brisk again.

Half an hour later, Kira was back at the hotel. The driver, Ryan, had pointed out landmarks and shared little bits of history during the ride, making it an unexpectedly pleasant journey. Despite her initial temptation to explore Medina city, exhaustion won her out. She barely managed to shed her clothes before collapsing onto the bed and falling into a deep sleep.

Sometime later, Tesah’s voice pulled her from her dream. “Kira?”

She groaned, turning away from the sound. In her dream, she was surrounded by pink clouds that smelled like candy, and she didn’t want to leave. But Tesah’s voice grew louder, breaking through her dream entirely.

“Kira!”