Episode 1
- Episode 1
- The Collector: Ep 2
A philanthropist with a hidden agenda enlists the confident but quirky James Marsh to round up the world’s finest treasures but along the way James’ unorthodox mannerisms and personal desires conflict with the benefactor’s demands.
Title: The Collector
Author: Noelani Mahana
Category: Original Fiction
Genre: Mystery/Drama/Erotica
Rating Warning: Rated MA-18
This story is a work in progress
Special Notes: An episodic tale.
James Marsh–reserved, meticulous and polite at first glance, seemed indifferent to the scene around him. He crossed one leg over the other, a hand trailing along the creased line of his pants while the other flipped through the pages of the day’s newspaper.
Across the room Lena’s bored eyes scanned the restaurant and settled on him sat alone at a corner table. She was struck by his mannerisms—how he folded his newspaper and took notes on a crisp legal pad. He was very old world and gentlemanly—not a sign of modern convenience in sight.
She inquired about him to Bennett, the Maitre’d.
“Oh ‘him’, he comes in quite often; orders the same thing. Doesn’t say much but a fine tipper.”
And then he added: “… he’s very ‘particular’.”
‘Great, a neurotic,’ she thought.
Bennett lifted a brow as he relayed past encounters, “his plate must be placed a certain distance from the edge of the table as well as his water glass. A linen napkin must be folded a certain way- top to bottom and then diagonally, ending in a neat triangle.”
A knowing grin spread upon her lips.
He likes routine-same server and no deviations.
She grew more intrigued and then her husband, Michael, strolled in from the kitchen. A quick-witted ball of energy, she was immediately swept up in his enthusiasm, momentarily forgetting about the quiet man in the corner.
Michael seemed happier than usual, maybe it was her impromptu visit or something else, she wasn’t sure but he made her smiled; she loved him for that.
Michael chimed in as he caught the tail-end of their conversation. Chuckling, he recalled the first time their odd patron came into the restaurant.
“We took bets–”
“Michael won,” Bennett said, his razor thin lips curving into a smirk.
Ignoring Bennett, Michael continued, “One person thought he was a food critic, but I said nah–I know a food critic when I see one.”
Bennett turned to Lena.
“It also helps that he sent a bottle of Champagne to all of them last year,” Bennett added, “I thought he was an IRS auditor.”
“Is that ethical?” Lena asked, concern clouding her pretty face.
Michael arched a brow, then brushed a kiss across his wife’s cheek before addressing Bennett, “I seriously doubt it, he would’ve shown his cards by now–which reminds me–” He pulled a cell from the front pocket of his Chef’s Jacket. “Ah, okay, I still have time.”
They all laughed but the speculation continued.
****
James liked to watch; get the lay of the land.
He observed the smallest details. The shift changes, server rotations, names, faces, hairstyles, bad days, good days and busy days. He noted how some hosts handled diners as compared to others; Some distracted easily, others were simply non-observant and none seemed to possess the quick-wit to detect who he really was underneath the facade.
There were always exceptions but until then, he filed away all he learned, jotting down a few lines on his legal pad; always present and watching, never losing sight of his goal.
When the moment was right, he would collect what he came for.
Thank you!
December 16, 2009
