When he came in about an 11 AM the restaurant wasn't that busy yet. But we were a high-end downtown spot and a go to lunch spot for the big-time businessmen. Hell, I have worked here for three years and while I make OK pay but much better tips, I still couldn't afford to eat here. He came in told the maitre'd he'd take a seat at the bar. This was one of those guys who very presence drew your attention. While he wasn't super tall, about 6'2, he was super wide. While he sat in one bar seat, his shoulders damn near took up half of each seat to either side of him. He was dressed in black jeans, black jeans, black logger boots, black leather club vest, various silver necklaces and big wallet chain hanging on his belt loop.
His heavy foot steps in those thick vibram soles made the silverware and glass vibrate as he walked past the tables to the bar in front the windows. The restaurant had a long bar with seating facing the outer windows. You could sit there and watch the world go by. Which is exactly what he did. My wimpy co-workers were scared to go serve him. I told them I would take care of it.
I walked over and asked him if I could get him anything. He didn't say anything at first, he was focused on the office building across the street. It was a big investment firm, lots of rich big wigs from there came and went all day and every day. Lots of them were regulars to the restaurant. Most of them stuck up assholes. A few seconds past and he turned to look at me. His eyes were like a tigers eye stone; the iris was a mixture of a rich brown to a glowing amber. It was like looking staring at some huge predator in the jungle.
I could tell his eyes did a quick appraisal of me, no threat. He said in a deep voice, "Let me a get a coffee and do you have some kind of breakfast sandwich or pastry". I was about to tell him, we did not do breakfast sandwiches. I said, "Absolutely. I will be right back."
I went into the kitchen and talked to the sous chef and told him what I needed. We were friends and before you know it, I had a plate of croissant sandwiches. Two Steak and Egg and Two Ham and very expensive cheese. I then added a plate of fresh baked pastries to the tray. With a carafe of coffee and headed back out. When I got to him at the bar, I sat the coffee down in front of him and poured a cup. I then sat the plate of sandwiches and the plate of pastries.
He frowned when he saw all the food. "Hey, I just wanted a sandwich.." He said, but I cut him off and said, "No worries, a big guy like you needs to keep his strength up." Those eyes looked at me again and the appraisal changed. He nodded said "Thanks."
I went down to the end of the bar where there were utensil and other items that needed prepping for the lunch rush. While I was working on that I watched him. Watched him eat, and he ate like a predator. Big healthy bites, watching his strong jaw and neck flex as he ate. When it looked like his coffee was running low, I walked back over to fill it up.
He sat there for an hour. The lunch rush started and all of the people in their suits and dresses came in sat down. Some noticed the big leather coated tattooed biker at the bar. Nobody sat down next to him. He had 3 seats to each side of him empty. He had that aura of potential menace that seem to keep people away. Me however, it was like a moth to a flame.
It was 15 minutes later when I noticed his body language change. His focus heightened at something out the window. I shifted slightly and could see 4 men across the street. Two were talking and the other two bigger guys were standing behind one watching. Bodyguards. I recognized the man.
I looked back at the biker at the bar. I could see his face had hardened. His aura of danger darkened. Me the moth was pulled closer to him, the flame. I watched him watch them. Soon enough three men, the guy with the bodyguards, got into a Mercedes and pulled away.
I could see the biker was done and ready to leave. When he turned to find me and ask for his bill, I was already there. "Is there anything else I can get you sir." I asked. "No, just looking for the check." I handed it to him. It wasn't small. $150 bucks for coffee and sandwiches. I braced myself for him to object, but he didn't. I watched him reach into his pocket and pull out a folded fat wad of cash. I watched as his big gloved hand pull four one hundred dollar bills out the wad of hundreds and fifties.
"Keep the change." He said as he put it on the counter. He was getting up to leave and the moth flew into the flame. I touched his massive arm and he turned to look at me. The amber in those eyes were bright as he looked at me. I said, "Sir..." and leaned in. His eyes hardened slightly but he leaned in a bit and I spoke in low tones.
"He comes in three to four times a week. Usually lunch and at least dinner one night. He always sits at a table over there in the corner. Sometimes there is only one guard." I said in a voice just low enough that he could hear me. When I pulled back those eyes were staring at me. The brown and amber seems to swirl and pull me in. I felt like I was standing on a cliff. It was like he was looking into my soul. Then like before, I could tell the appraisal had changed. Before I knew it his big hands was stuffing something into the pocket of my shirt. He stood up and power swaggered out of the restaurant. People looked but didn't want to pull attention to themselves.
I caught my breath and headed to the back. His scent was still around me. It was like leather, musk, and bourbon'y vanilla. It lingered around me like a cloud. Fuck. It was a couple minutes when I remember that he put something in my pocket. I reached in and there was five folded 100 dollar bills. In the middle of the folded cash was a napkin with a phone number on it.
His smell encircled me as I realized I was dancing in the middle of the flames.