Dinner and a Show

Date. This was supposed to be a date. Suddenly, everything starts clicking into place. Vega’s fancier way of dress. The mood and lighting. The quiet music that I now belatedly realize has a very romantic quality to them. Adler’s comment from earlier.

“I didn’t think she’d be your type.”

Gah! Even my younger brother managed to figure it out! I quickly start going through a range of emotions from bafflement, to embarrassment, to betrayal.

Aquino had said that this wouldn’t be a honeypot mission! And yet, here I was, preparing to wine and dine with the enemy! Dressed up in a nice suit, no less!

Vega awkwardly clears her throat, pulling me back to reality.

“Uh, um, w-would you like to have a seat?”

I quickly accepted her offer. For now, I needed to act naturally. Like this was all part of the plan.

Plan. What was my plan anyway? I came here prepared for a fight, but now I’m sitting across my supposed enemy with nothing but a fragrant candle between us.

Vega’s eyes start to dart across the room anxiously.

“Is this too much? It’s too much, isn’t it? An underli— I mean, a colleague of mine said it would be a romantic gesture if I did something big on a first date, like renting out an entire place. But now that I think about it, we just met! This is crazy, right? Creepy, even!”

She’s rambling, now. Her arms start flailing about awkwardly and her glasses are starting to slip off of her nose. Endearing is the first word that comes to mind, looking at her like this.

Wait. No! She’s the enemy! Get it together, Altair! You can play nice on the surface level, but don’t let her dorky act fool you!

I take a deep breath to calm myself down before placing on my most charming smile. Fine, if this is going to be part of the mission, then so be it. I might as well play the part.

“Don’t worry about it, your colleague was right. It’s…sweet.”

Vega’s face instantly reddens as she turns into a stuttering mess. Heh. That smile never misses its mark.

Vega clears her throat and attempts to take the lead again.

“So, uh, if you don’t mind, I’ll go ahead and call the server over.”

She claps her hands together twice, and almost in an instant, a server appears by her side.

“What would you like tonight, madam?” he asks in what sounds like a faux British accent.

“Ow!” I yelp out after feeling a sudden kick aimed at my shin. Vega turns to me, distraught.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! That wasn’t meant for you!”

“Vait, was zat meant for moi?” the server asks, having now traded his British accent for an even more ridiculous sounding French one.

“Yes!” Vega hisses., “What’s with the accents?!”

“A thought it woul’ make this place seem a bi’ mow posh!” this time his accent sounds like Dick Van Dyke’s attempt at a Cockney accent.

“Well it doesn’t!” Vega counters, face turning red., “And if you’re gonna put on a fake accent, then stick

with just one!”

“Alright then, settle down pardner. I hear ya, one singular fake accent comin’ right up! Now then, what can I fix up for you good folks?”

Okay, his Texan accent is actually pretty good. But it’s admittedly the last type of accent I would expect to hear in a “posh” establishment.

As much of a welcome distraction as that was, I want to get things moving. I already took a glance at the menu laid on my side of the table while Vega and the server were going through their impromptu comedy act, so I decided to make the first move and place my order.

Vega quickly follows suit without even sparing a glance at her menu. Chances are, she already knew what she’d order before she even arrived. Our server happily takes down our orders, and true to his word, he sticks to his fake Texan accent to the very end.

“Well then, mah name’s Ace! If ya’ll need anythin’ else, just give me a holler!”

And off he goes. He’s even pretending to gallop on an invisible horse. Amazing.

Vega’s palm meets her face and she lets out a long groan.

“I’m really sorry about him. He wasn’t even supposed to be our server tonight!”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. He was...unique.”

“Yeah, that’s one way to describe him.”

We make some small talk as we wait for our food, but it’s clear that she’s being careful with the information she shares with me. I try my best to needle any kind of useful information out of her, but whenever I get close, the other members of the staff intervene before she can say anything. It’s clear that they’re all in her pocket, but it’s best to just play dumb for now.

Contrary to what I initially thought, it doesn’t look like Vega has any clear idea of who I really am at all. Good, I could use that to my advantage.

“I’ve been wondering for a while now, what kind of work do you do?”

“Oh, you know. Business stuff?”

“Business like…finance?”

“Y-yeah, that’s it!”

“Oh! So what kinds of projects are you working on right now?”

“Um…the good kind?”

I can hear an audible facepalm from somewhere behind the kitchen doors. Okay, I should keep pressing

before one of her goons shows up to interfere.

“Ha ha! The good kind! You say that like there’d be an evil kind!”

Vega actually starts to sweat and I find myself wondering how she managed to evade the authorities for so long when she’s this bad at lying. I’m on a roll so I get ready to press some more when the kitchen doors suddenly slam open and out comes Ace precariously carrying all of our orders in a single large tray.

“Howdy folks! Here’s ya’ll’s grub! Thank ya kindly for waitin’!”

I expect him to leave once he sets all of our food down, but instead he stays.

“Now then, would ya’ll like to have some entertainment to accompany this lovely meal here?”

“No, we’re good,” I say as Vega blurts out a “Yes please!” at the same time.

“Whoo-whee! Well then, ya’ll best sit your pretty little butts down coz I’ve got quite the show prepared!”

The “show” in question consists of Ace singing a couple of country songs off-key, an obviously, hastily put together dance number, and a poem reading that didn’t include a single rhyme. I can tell that it’s all meant to act as a distraction since Ace’s grand show ends right as we’re about to finish our meals. By then, it’s become difficult to find a way to engage Vega in any other topic since now, all she seems to want to talk about is Ace’s poem.

I decide to just let it go for now, as my continued line of questioning may lead Vega and her cohorts to grow suspicious of me. But just as we’re preparing to call it a night, Ace of all people presents a new opportunity.

“Would ya’ll like some dessert?”