Reservations

[Rowan Finnegan]

Gareth Rice
General Manager and Rowan Finnegan's Personal Manservant

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“Thank you very much,” he spoke in a crisp tone, “I studied Japanese while attending University. Communication is a very precious thing.”

From there, Gareth broke back into his more familiar English, accented with the tones of his father’s Birthplace. He had grown up in New Orleans, and he had shared childhood with Rowan and Aiden, but he had always striven to mimic his Father and Mother in speech. Their way of speaking had always sounded more refined, more polite, than that of the denizens of Ireland or Louisiana. The other children had mocked him for it while growing up, but then again, all children were cruel.

The patron, he had yet to catch her name, had looked down as she spoke – dark curtains obscuring her smooth features. She was a beautiful woman, to be sure, but a shy one. He understood all too well, was he not on the clock, he would likely have found himself snuggled up in a leather easy chair with a pipe and book in hand, deigning to hear the siren song of the social world.

“Do not feel obliged to order something while you wait,” he said suavely, “but if the madam would like to hear tonight’s specials, I will not deny her the opportunity. The chef recommends the BBQ Shrimp, simple in name, but bursting with the homespun flavors of New Orleans. Garlic, butter, Worcestershire, amber beer, and a house blend of seasoning will leave your tongue popping with flavor.”

Gareth took on a conspiratorial look as he spoke, “If you ask me, it’s more money than its worth. If you want my recommendation, why you should indulge in our Muffalettas. House-cured meats, three types of cheeses, olive dressing, and a well-buttered bread. One bite and you’ll be in heaven, and it’s light on the wallet. In the meantime, I shall inform the front desk to keep an eye out for your brother.”

Gareth clapped his hands and a server, a younger man named Dima, appeared at his shoulder.