"Stop staring and please sit down, Mr. Johnson. You can order something if you like; it's pretty affordable here."
Derec cautiously pulled out the chair and sat down. "Mr. Vanderbilt?" came out of his mouth with an ounce of surprise.
I nodded.
"That's... surprising," he said. "I expected you to be at least my age, if not older."
"I'm pretty sure you've met quite a few wealthy young people in your life."
"Yes... but they are not quite as..."
"As what?" I prompted.
"Resourceful," he finished.
That's when a waiter came up to our table. "Would Sir like to order something?"
Derec looked up at him, "Yes, I'll have an espresso, please."
"You're not eating?" I asked Derec.
"I had lunch already," he replied and as the waiter walked away, he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice. "Sir... why did want to meet me and why here?"
"First of all, don't call me 'Sir,' Derec. Just call me Chris from now on," I said.
