As she grew closer she could see his hair was a little tousled on the left side, as if he'd been leaning on his hand to write in that notebook of his. Which, she could see, was with him yet again, right next to his laptop.
Donning a fake smile that'd fool few, but would observe the formality, she came to a stop next to his table with her hands clasped gracefully behind her back. "Is there anything else I may get for you, sir?"
There was a slight, fairly non-existent, pause to his incessant typing before he replied, "No."
The inconsiderate bast-…(cough)…patron, didn't even bother to lift his eyes from the computer screen to answer her.
The proper server response to his curt reply would've been to: politely, tell him to let her know when he needed anything…but she wasn't about to give him that much leeway…and she wanted to go home and take off her shoes damn it.
Nami used the few moments before a courteous withdrawal would be necessary to rack her brain and scan the surroundings for possibilities. The dimmed lights and his concentration on reading and typing were the first things to jump out at her. Backhanded apology it would be, then.
"By the way, I do apologize for the dimmed lights at this hour. They are set to automatically dim at a certain time each night." Like closing-time, you ass. "I'm sorry the light in here can't do much to help you see what you type." She took a cautious breath, hoping he'd get the hint.
His bored tone relieved her of that notion.
"Typically, the light coming off the screen is sufficient."
Nami felt a twitch threaten her right eye. Admittedly, her attempt would've made more sense if he'd been writing in the notebook, but she got the feeling the drifts and hints she'd been sending weren't going undetected so much as they were being ignored…and it pissed her off.
Who did this guy think he was, anyway? Him with his black button-up and the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Despite the fabric being somewhat rumpled from a full day of use, it had a sleek quality that screamed money. His hair even, tousled from leaning on his hand and running his fingers through it, seemed to fall over his glasses at perfect intervals; neither revealing nor obscuring the glinting frames.
Under normal circumstances, his cool air and ability to look stylish even while laid back, not to mention his slightly disheveled appearance, would have been appealing. Instead, she couldn't help but get more and more irritated by his mere presence.
He sat forward as he continued to type; the glint of his lenses concealing eyes narrowed in single-minded concentration.
Oh, she knew who he was. Not many were unaware of the Ootori's, and she was certainly no exception.
Her eyes narrowed in her own bout of concentration.
Her opinion of rich people like him had steadily worsened over time.
The small aches in her toes and in-steps began to protest louder. Who knew such a low-heeled shoe could be a bother after hours of standing and walking? So much for her attempt to have semi-stylish feet for a day.
"You've been typing for a long time," She pressed her hand on the table for emphasis, "You must be getting a bit tired by now."
The barest hint of a sigh moved his shoulders. It was hard to tell passed the glint of his glasses, but it looked like his eyes shot a glance of exasperation her way. "I'll endeavor to persevere."
She had to get the guy out of here before her feet ordered her to take off a shoe and beat him with it.
She glared serenely at his empty glass beside his laptop; ice long melted at the bottom. "I haven't refilled your drink for a while. Water, was it?"
His gaze tilted towards the glass momentarily before returning to his screen. "If you feel you must."
Her hand was forcefully calm as she took up his glass and headed back to the bar. When she returned, she brought his still empty glass and a pitcher of ice water.
"With ice still, I presume?" Setting the glass down, she gestured with the pitcher.
His only answer was a muffled "Mm," as his chin was now resting in one propped hand.
Her left hand discreetly pinched the table cloth as she moved to clasp and reposition the glass. As she began pouring into the now partially off-kilter, ridiculously expensive glass, it was with great inner pleasure that she watched the resulting events unfold.
