What was once a lively local restaurant that sold all the family recipes and kept things intimate was now a sad space filled with dust-adorned furniture and dullness even the dead frames which hung on the walls.
I pitied them, the street it was on was quite decent and it was reachable and practically in sight, but of course, the sad reality was that no matter how nice they were or how much money they could pull in everyday debt was debt and maybe I was being judgemental but I could bet my behind the son had quite the role in that and everything to do with it going down this way, sadly.
The older lady's eyes were faintly green somewhat gone grey with soft wrinkles having most of her face and despite that, I could that, surely, in her youth she had been quite the beauty and they had been quite the pair, but of course, old age had consumed the last of it.
". . .we had first moved here and my papa was happy to be in America." Her eyes shone as she finished off. The old lady seemed quite fond of Nicholas, to my surprise, and the old man seemed to have chosen to stay skeptically quiet–so had I. The lady seemed more willing and although I was not even sure why Nicholas was after this place, I chose to sit there as if I was well aware. And sadly, as if I held a role of importance–I didn't. I was just an assistant and even though Nicholas had just treated me as if I was more of an associate than just somebody who brings him his coffee I wasn't silly enough to buy into it–he just wanted them to sign those papers or agree on doing so. There were no hard feelings here and really, business was strictly business.
"My grandfather had a tea shop once, Mother says it was one of the best memories of her childhood." Nicholas offered her his cup so she could refill his cup.
"Is that what you want to do with it, Son?" the old man participated, at last, his slightly bushy eyebrows almost lifted as he looked at Nicholas.
Nicholas lifted the cup elegantly. "What?"
"Buy your Ma's childhood for her?"
The cup Nicholas had picked up met the table instead of his lips. "I wouldn't put it so."
"How's your father feeling about all of this?" the older man questioned, the never having touched his tea.
I didn't know Nicholas that well but I was sure of one thing–the dad issue was off-limits. "My father? He died."
"I'm sorry." The older woman gave his hand a slight pat as she offered him a soft smile.
This was why he was not good with people. "The tea's. . .delicious."
"Why are you so interested in this?" He waved his hands around in referral to the restaurant.
I was sure they were desperate, sure that their son was probably behind all these questions and sure that Nicholas was uncomfortable, perhaps their aim after all. Suddenly, I found myself not as sympathetic towards them and more concerned about him. Perhaps, as my paranoia would have it, I stood a better chance of reading them than Nicholas did, especially after the mention of his deceased father–they wanted him frustrated and desperate. Maybe, they were even right to assume something like that would not sit so comfortably with him, maybe they were trying to read him and maybe it was in their right to do so and I was meant to let them after all this was their restaurant–this was between Nicholas and them. If only some part of me didn't have the urge to, surprisingly enough, protect him as I could tell from his stiff shoulders and forced smiles that they had hit a nerve. Nicholas hated being disadvantaged or coming across as 'fragile as any man, though he often played off as if it could never bother him. I certainly knew better than to buy that, in a way he probably was and was human too.
He just really wanted to buy this sunk sheep of a restaurant and I had no idea why.
"My son tells me your business's been doing well and some," the older stated, his eyes trained on Nicholas who sat across him with a look I couldn't quite read displayed so heavily in his eyes. I carefully watched him as he slid a hand into the pocket of his trousers. He had barely glanced at me since we both sat down and he had introduced us both.
"Your son isn't here today?" Nicholas sat his cup down as he lifted his head and met the man's sharp stare. The soft sheen of his hair highlighted the structure of his jaw as he tilted his head and was met by the soft hue of a lovely gold that washed against the window, irritating my eye. "I thought he'd join us."
"Why? This is ours and not his, isn't it?" The scruffiness of his voice weighed quite heavily in the almost empty restaurant.
"I thought you dealt with things as a family, I'm sorry if I've assumed wrong. . .Sir." Nicholas brought his fingers to his hair and combed it away from his face.
I wanted to sigh, they were going to be at this for a while. Perhaps, I even wanted to roll my eyes at the fact that both of their egos were at play here and I guess at the fact that men barely changed no matter their age.
"Excuse me, would you like more tea?" Her eyes were soft and so was her smile though both myself at shielding the fact that they were both trying to play us exactly as their son had probably instructed them to.
I didn't even like tea that much but I nodded politely. "Yes, of course."
'The men' were still occupied with trying to prove to the other that the other was not going to prove 'weak' and to be honest, I was tired. We both knew how much debt they were in and the sort of money they owed to the city meant that if we didn't buy the place then the bank would cease the restaurant, and probably other assets, and they would get nothing out of that, they were just dragging this in hopes for Nicholas's desperation and more money, period.
I didn't even touch the tea as I stood up. "This is enough."
Both men turned my way and I was sure that I was, maybe, taking a dangerous chance that I was not even that authorized to do, but it sure sounded better than trying to bargain with someone with nothing to bargain with–it was either they were going to sell or they weren't. I was sure, deep down, I had a really good feeling, and I had been watching them for the past hour or something–they were just after more money. And if they wanted more money then that meant they were more desperate than I had presumed, I was just not sure how Nicholas was going to take it.
"If you get someone who's going to buy this place. . .and the debt. . .and a whole lot of other shitloads of things that come with it then congratulations," I said firmly, unwilling to meet Nicholas's eyes as I was truly cautious of faltering, "but. . .I'm sure no one's willing to do that, so my advice is to take the money and not worry about debt ever in your lives or. . ."
"Or what?" the older man questioned, his voice slightly rougher and although he was trying his best as he forced himself to sit up straight firmly and not be 'pathetic' before some of my age, he failed and caused his wife to hang her head in shame as all his question came out as was sad–just as he was.
"Or let the bank take everything." Nicholas decided to remind them, whereas I was just trying to scare them by not saying it.
I gathered everything we had brought with us. "And you owe them a lot of money."
I didn't know what it took for Nicholas to nonchalantly bid them a farewell and follow after me with not a flicker of doubt or upset. The city outside was busy and noisy, everyone going about their daily lives and trying to make a living–so was I. I guess that notion only hit me as soon as we got into the car and it began to move, meaning we were going to the office. Meaning that I had either got him the deal or had dramatically ruined everything, either way, I had already done it.
"They will sign, you know." I turned to him and met his 'calm face' and sadly, it was not the type of expression I was fond of at that moment.
"Why did you do that?" Nicholas simply asked.
"I want them to be desperate." I tried my best to not wince as he narrowed his eyes at me.
"What kind of person do you think I am?" The light made his eyes softly twinkle as his harsh face sharpened his features and made me so aware of how he was much older than I was. And oddly, of how wonderful his cheekbones were from the angle the sunlight chose to kiss him in–he was beautiful. . .and upset.
"What do you mean?" I carefully scooted closer to him.
"Have I been misleading you?" He looked at me. "I must have for you too. . .I would never want that family to sell their restaurant because I forced them to."
"You don't want it anymore?" I tilted my head to the side as I folded my arms.
"You seemed upset." He let out a sigh.
"Is that why you decided to not go against me?" I frowned as my eyes wandered to the curve of his upper lip as they sat slightly pouted.
Nicholas's eyes shone as he smiled."Against you? Why would I be against you? Aren't we on the same team?"
"If guess so." I nodded.
He let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What's done. . .is done."
"You say it like I'm wrong as if they won't budge." I almost got lost in the softness of his eyes.
He let out a light chuckle. "Your words held impact, I doubt they wouldn't want to. . .get rid of their debt 'forever'."
"I'm sorry if I –"
Nicholas ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed. "You wouldn't have known I wouldn't like them having to take the deal because of the desperation we pulled out of them."
"What about the one they were trying to pull out of you?" Some part of me sort of had an issue with letting this one go, unfortunately.
"People are like that." He turned away, quickly.
"What? Crooked?" I seemed a bit more upset than he was.
"Desperate and miserable. They are desperate for the truth and miserable because no one else wants to sacrifice themselves for it," Nicholas illustrated, quietly. "They are desperate for money so they can no longer have to worry and miserable over the fact that they can't seem to keep it. . .or have it whereas others do."
"I've never thought of it like that." I frowned.
"You see how miserable you are but never how. . .desperate you are," he said, easily. "It's a flaw easy to miss and sometimes it's easier to be miserable than desperate."
"Aren't we miserable because all in all we are desperate?" I furrowed my eyebrows at him.
"Depends on how you see it." He offered me a slight smile. "Because I'm always miserable."
"You're a deep cynic." I turned away from him.
"I see life for what it is."
I rolled my eyes even though it sort of made me a hypocrite. "Only a severely cynical person would say that."