[Monday, 207506031825L]
As the time approaches, each of you is recalled to the Hostess area. As five of you gather the Maitre D frowns, checks his watch, looks at the group again, frowns more deeply, then with a nigh imperceptible shrug turns on his heel. "Follow me," he says, brusquely. You get the feeling he knows you aren't any manner of regular clientele that requires him to kowtow in servitude.
He leads you past the main dining room and into a private party area. He opens a set of double doors to reveal a daily lit room with a large table, already set and several appetizers interspersed throughout. Sitting at the head of the table is a young man flanked by two gorgeous women. The man is immaculately dressed in a suit that must have cost several thousand nuyen. His brown hair is salon fresh and you would be surprised if he were older than twenty five.
"Your party, sir," the Matre D announces as he ushers you in. He then takes a step back, hovering in the doorway.
Mr. Johnson checks his watch and nods, then whispers something into the ear of the woman on his left and then to his right. They both offer an exaggerated pout as they stand and walk past, one taking care to brush suggestively past Lorenzo on her way by. As they exit, the Maitre D steps in and cants his head towards Mr. Johnson. The Johnson nods and the Maitre D steps back, closing the doors behind him.
"Someone didn't make it," the Johnson announces, indicating a seat that remains empty once you all have taken yours. He seems to stare at the vacant seat a moment and then shrugs. "Shame."
The silence drags on a moment before he looks up and offers a dazzling thousand nuyen smile. "Well! Let it not be said I am an ungracious host. Please, eat. Peruse the menus. Consider ordering something expensive, it's on my dime, as they say."