If I hold up hell, will you take the blame?
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
She'd been in here every night this week and every night Cordelia has been her waitress. The woman doesn't sit at the bar. No, instead she takes a seat at one of the tables near the window, watching the rain drops chase each other down the panes of glass until one catches the other and they meld into each other, too heavy to stay in one spot. Every night she orders a water with lemon and a White Russian. Usually with a very late dinner. Miss Kaito stays until the last call each and every night. She always leaves with a murmured, "Thank you." A generous tip left behind on the table.
Every night Cordelia kicks herself for not saying anything more beyond the small talk. Never brave enough to ask anything more than how her day was or if the meetings went well. Cordelia knew she was here on business. A week long trip. Maybe longer if the deal went well. Not that the waitress really had any idea what it was that Ms. Kaito did. Other than it seemed really important if the way she was always checking her phone and answering emails was anything to go by.
Glancing up at the clock, Codelia sighs, watching as the minute hand ticks closer to one in the morning. Last call is coming up and with it Ms. Kaito will undoubtedly disappear into the elevator across the lobby, whisked away to the penthouse and out of reach again, leaving Cordelia to mourn another lost chance. "Might as well stop putting off the inevitable." She mutters to herself, grabbing her tray and slipping from around the bar, smiling as she approaches the table tucked into the corner. "Is there anything else I can get you, Ms. Kaito? It's almost last call." Cordelia's voice is quiet in the soft din of the bar, just audible over the classical music that filters through the hidden speakers, honey brown eyes shining in the low lighting.
Every night Cordelia kicks herself for not saying anything more beyond the small talk. Never brave enough to ask anything more than how her day was or if the meetings went well. Cordelia knew she was here on business. A week long trip. Maybe longer if the deal went well. Not that the waitress really had any idea what it was that Ms. Kaito did. Other than it seemed really important if the way she was always checking her phone and answering emails was anything to go by.
Glancing up at the clock, Codelia sighs, watching as the minute hand ticks closer to one in the morning. Last call is coming up and with it Ms. Kaito will undoubtedly disappear into the elevator across the lobby, whisked away to the penthouse and out of reach again, leaving Cordelia to mourn another lost chance. "Might as well stop putting off the inevitable." She mutters to herself, grabbing her tray and slipping from around the bar, smiling as she approaches the table tucked into the corner. "Is there anything else I can get you, Ms. Kaito? It's almost last call." Cordelia's voice is quiet in the soft din of the bar, just audible over the classical music that filters through the hidden speakers, honey brown eyes shining in the low lighting.
Cordelia
