Resumo de Saragon- Prologue Pt1

PROLOGUE

?There is something different about this man, walking down the busiest street of West End London. He is wearing the bluest suit in sight and stands out at well over 6 feet tall, hair slicked back into one short, neat ponytail?. ?As he walks, people freeze momentarily as if they have forgotten something. Others stare out into the open as if an epiphany just slapped them between the eyes?.
?However, it isn?t the man?s chiselled features that is makes the women around him drool with disgraceful openness- nor his don?t-fuck-with-me stature that makes other men step out of his way; the road parting ahead of him like the red sea.
?it is the feeling he gives them a he walks by.
The feeling of that one thing no human being could ever be?perfect?
?The man doesn?t seem to notice as his whole attention is fixed on a building up ahead that houses the best food (and indeed expensive prices) that the West End has to offer. He gets to the door and pauses for a second to look at his watch.?
?but he already knows he is early. As well as he knows that his appointment is going to be late?
?Same shit, different day? he says under his breath, as he swings around and opens up the doors of ?le Barra de age.?
a waiter runs up to greet him.
?Bonsoir monsieur,??.
the man doesn?t lose a breath switching languages.
?Bonsoir, une table par duo?
?Tout de suite, monsieur?
The man looks bemused as the waiter scurries off to get a table ready. It is always the same. Wherever he goes people make assumptions. They see someone important, fearfully important; from a big time billionaire, to a triad gang lord. What ever it is, it makes people ?scurry? off to do his bidding. He wonders what they would think if his boss walked in. The scene plays in his head and a smile crosses his lips.
A lady dressed in red, watching him from a table on the balcony sprays her drink at the whiteness of his teeth, as her eyes trail him to his table.
?Autre chose monsieur??
?Nothing for now? the man replies, obviously tired of switching between accents. The waiter bows and leaves and the man settles into his seat and admires his environment to pass some time.?
?Inside is designed to a high standard taste. From the open upstairs balcony overlooking the grounds, to the skylight window letting in the midday sunrays; the light bouncing off the pictures on the wall and the ornaments decorating pedestals around the room.? For now, the man amuses himself by sending flirtatious glances to the lady on the balcony, who is doing a miserable job of trying to seem oblivious. The man chuckles softly to himself. She can wait, he?ll deal with her later, depending on how the meeting turns out. Of course left to him alone, this meeting would not happen. But it wasn?t up to him and a lot depended on the outcome.
?and some? he says under his breath glances towards the entrance. He hears his appointment long before she opens the door and graces the restaurant with her presence.
The lady that walks in is in her mid twenties, long mousy hair tied back neatly, exposing her oval features and grey eyes, which complement the suit she is wearing; a pair of rimless glasses perched high on her face, giving her the all round look of somebody?s secretary. The eyes that turn to acknowledge her entrance all turn back to resume their social natters. She is nothing special. Her eyes scan the room, falling dead on Gabriel. Her only audience as she walks over to him is the lady in red. She dares a final flirtatious glance at Gabriel who winks at her. She smiles as she turns to watch them out of the corner of her eye.

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