Chapter 19 - Power Move

Jason peered out from the tinted windows of the sleek limousine, his eyes fixed on Amber as she gracefully approached the entrance. Her every step exuded an air of elegance that belied the tension within their covert mission. As she neared the secure entrance, a state-of-the-art scanner discreetly performed a body scan, an untenable form of identification. When the scan completed, the door emitted a soft beep, and its light transformed from an ominous red to a welcoming green.

However, before Amber could proceed further, a man clad in a tailored suit emerged from an adjacent door. Dread gripped Jason's heart, sending a chill through his veins. Had their meticulously crafted plan been exposed so soon?

"Hello, Miss Black," the man greeted Amber with a warm smile, his voice dripping with charm. "Welcome to Platinum Coffee! As this is your first visit, allow me to extend a warm welcome to this fine establishment. I am Tailor, the manager, and should you have any concerns, please do not hesitate to contact me."

Sarah had wisely chosen the alias "Miss Black" to conceal Amber's true identity, a decision he found rather clever.

"Thank you," Amber replied, inclining her head graciously before proceeding toward the door.

With a sigh of relief, Jason realised that all Tailor was doing was offering a courteous welcome. 

"Oh, and Miss Black," Tailor called out, detaining Amber once more.

"Yes?" she responded, her tone politely curious.

"The coffee here is truly exceptional, one could say it is to die for," Tailor said with a sly smile.

Jason's internal alarm bells began to ring. Was this a mere friendly gesture or a subtle warning? The uncertainty gnawed at him, a stark reminder of the need for constant vigilance.

Amber continued through the entrance, entering a lavish lobby with an atmosphere steeped in elegance. Every facet of the room exuded opulence, from the gold and platinum accents to the red velvet thrones and meticulously crafted redwood tables. Hand-painted portraits of classic celebrities adorned the gold-flaked walls, and diamond chandeliers adorned the towering ceilings. Black marble and plush red carpets graced the floors.

A swift and courteous server approached Amber, guiding her to an unoccupied table. The server stood poised by the table, offering a warm smile.

"I am your personal dedicated server for today. When you are ready to place your order, simply press the service button," she explained, pointing at a button on the table. "And you can peruse our menu via this button," she added, indicating at another button.

Amber summoned the menu with a discreet press, doing her best to conceal her surprise at the exorbitant prices. To blend in, she ordered a simple black coffee, though it cost ten times more than what she was accustomed to below the clouds. The service was impressively swift, her coffee arriving in a gold-plated cup adorned with intricate art. 

With her coffee in hand, Amber closed her eyes, allowing her ability to activate as she sought to find the identity of the caller from a few hours ago. She focused on the time and discreetly scanned the room for anyone engaged in a phone conversation. The bustling space held several individuals on their phones, but none seemed to match the voice she sought. Her attention zeroed in on one individual: a man with an altered voice seated in a booth on the far side of the café. Unfortunately, a curtain obscured most of his features, revealing only his black suit pants and shoes. As Amber attempted to rewind time for a clearer view, an interruption came in the form of a female voice.

"Amber?" the voice queried.

A ripple of panic coursed through those privy to their covert activities. Jason was thankful that Diana could intervene if needed. Amber attempted to maintain her composure, prompting her to avoid any immediate reaction, as the voice emanated from behind her. The speaker circled the table and stood before her.

"It's you!" the woman exclaimed.

"Hello, Imogen," Amber replied, recognizing the woman's face instantaneously.

Imogen, clad in a stunning forest green dress and sporting an intricate updo, befitting a work of art, wore an expression of genuine delight. Her brown eyes sparkled with happiness, casting a glow on her olive complexion.

"I thought—" she began, but Amber interjected.

"You're correct," Amber acknowledged.

Imogen glanced around cautiously, as though checking for prying eyes, before speaking in hushed tones.

"If they catch you here, won't it be a problem?" she inquired, a hint of worry colouring her features.

"I can handle myself," Amber replied, her smile reflecting confidence.

Imogen prepared to respond, but her eyes widened with fear as she witnessed something transpire behind Amber. Curious, Amber went to see what had captured Imogen's attention. But before she could, a hand landed firmly on her shoulder—it was Tailor, the manager she had spoken to earlier.

"Amber White, I thought I recognized you," Tailor remarked, a genial smile masking his underlying menace.

Amber sighed, realising that she had been exposed. Tailor withdrew his hand and positioned himself between the two women, leaning slightly over the table and scrutinising Amber's face with a threatening glare.

"I wasn't entirely sure, but thank you, Imogen, for confirming my suspicions," he remarked, shifting his gaze to Imogen, who managed a forced smile before briskly departing from the table.

Amber remained silent, standing her ground. 

"You should know that you're not welcome here. Depart immediately, or we will remove you by force," Tailor admonished.

Recognizing the futility of resisting, Amber stood and began to leave. But Tailor blocked her path.

"What do you want?" Amber inquired, as the man continued to project an air of intimidation. By now, the entire room had become an audience to this unfolding drama.

"I'm simply waiting for your departure," the man smirked, his demeanour morphing into sheer bullying.

Amber, who brooked no nonsense from anyone, pressed forward, causing their shoulders to collide. Tailor stumbled, but Amber remained resolute, navigating her way past him. She approached the elevator, where Imogen stood, head bowed in regret.

"I'm sorry, Amber," Imogen whispered.

"It's all right," Amber replied, bestowing a kiss on her cheek. The room gasped in disgust—a calculated move by Amber to divert attention—while surreptitiously passing Imogen a business card. With a confident smile, Amber watched as the elevator doors closed, transporting her back to the parking area. Internally she had won this battle, she hadn't paid the bill.