Old School Butt Touch

"Argh! Please…!"

Renna Amaryllis twisted the man's arm and shoved her leg between his intending to give him a fall, the woman's soul eating glare was fixated on his trembling silhouette.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't intend to touch your butt."

The man pleaded to her while the rest of the comrades were feeling tensed up while watching Hollywood action live. 

"If you really want to eat someone's pussy, try some solid strategy next time. This method is old school now."

Renna snapped at him and kicked his right leg outside making the man drop on the marbled floor with his legs spread outwards towards poles. The man grunted and winced feeling immense pain circulating in his thighs and dick.

The woman walked past that man after dusting off her hands and approached the counter of the particular restaurant, whereas her brief stare at the people immediately forced them to turn around. 

"Mayo fries, ma'am?"

A waitress arrived on the cash counter, wearing a professional smile on her youthful face, as she questioned the lady once again. Her mannerism held a confirmation tone which was polite, of course, she needed to abide by the working rules.

'This is driving me crazy now. It's all their fault that the jerk approached me.'

The repeated question forced the lady to frown in irritation, as the thing was placed before her for the second time and she raised her left eyebrow.

The crooked thin trail of neatly trimmed hair popped 'its head up' and became visible from behind her black shades.

She was still wearing them within those four compressed concrete walls of the restaurant where the sunlight was not daring to peek as there wasn't any window leading outwards, let alone the rays to fall on her directly.

"Yes, that is all."

The lady parted her lips, tinted with donut shaded rich gloss, and responded to the waitress with a weary yet forced smile. Whereas the man's wincing was still audible as he tried to support himself to stand up to run.

She had been waiting for her order since past ten minutes and with every passing second a sensation was rising into her body, bubbling hot within her outwardly calm silhouette.

"Thank you, ma'am. Apologies for late services, our cook just had a panic attack which caused the delay, we had to send him to the hospital in an emergency."

The waitress bowed her head a little, her tone was sincerely apologetic and the explanation she provided was genuine, because the customer lady had heard the siren of an ambulance wailing, maybe the back door was used to take the cook.

"It is okay, happens sometimes."

Renna replied in a serene manner yet her reply was unusually short, her accent seemed to be completely different from Americans.

She responded to the employee without pulling her black shiny shades down to the edge of her beautifully pointy nose.

The only way she was reacting with her seemingly 'paralyzed face' and interacting with the employee was through speaking. Whereas the already performed action was enough to make people infer that she was unapproachable.

Her austere style forced the waitress to fill in her with the cause of delay, from which most of the customers often remained unaware.

The lady already seemed impatient inwardly and with every slipping nanosecond the waitress became terrified by the unusual calm nature, which had an unsaid warning of lurking danger behind the stone faced expressions.

Thus, the employee had arrived back to the cash counter herself to do the task, who would afford to lose a customer who was standing with a black card which was reserved for elites only, placed on the white marble slab.

Moreover, Renna was still persistent to have her takeaway from their restaurant. Similarly the man consistently tried to stand up by struggling with the chair nearby and successfully made his way out immediately. 

The existence of the black card under her softly tapping pores was enough to enlighten the waitress that she was obliged to attend Renna before gathering other's orders.

While the bunch of other customers were filling the empty pits of their tummy, eyeing her from time to time through the corners of their orbs.

The waitress heaved a sigh of relief after hearing, of course in a hint, that the lady had agreed to wait a little while longer.

She cast a last look at the lady before stepping backwards to disappear in the corner towards her right side, probably which led towards the kitchen door.

The appearance of the lady was definitely not a contrast to the possession of the black card. Anyone could imagine her, having sharp facial features through the defined crooked eyebrow which had earlier showed 'its' face and assuming the gaze of the lady, it must have been a fierce scowl, behind the veil of her smile.

The casual atmosphere of the restaurant was totally different from what she was wearing, it was bold yet imposing but it was something opposite to the appearance of the casual patrons, who were sitting under pressure. 

Every single person must have wondered why such a lady would have arrived there, it was an odd choice to step out of home wearing a Chantelle sportswear in public. Well, which attracted the man's attention.

Her attire was differentiating her from others, sending them into a self conscious state or rather a self degradation.

'She is still likeable, I think, although the chick is flaunting everything expensive from head to toe.'

The waitress muddled to herself as she disappeared from the sight of the customer, stepping stealthily without any noise. Perhaps she didn't see the earlier action.

Who wouldn't recognize a brand in the era of technology and the agencies who promote that kind of stuff, as necessary as food and air.

A few moments passed by and she hurriedly approached the lady customer with a parcel of her placed order, packed in a brown paper bag which was folded from the mouth forming a thick packaging.

The waitress put the bag on the countertop and smiled at her hesitantly, although she could not see the lady's eyes but still the slightly trembling lady could feel a pair of glaring gems penetrating into her soul.

"Thank you, here, swipe this."

The lady in the sportswear pushed the black card having shiny golden numbers imprinted on it towards the waitress, who carefully took it by freeing the poor card from the clasp of her finger tips.

She intended not to show any audacious behaviour in her nervous state or to attempt any blunder, or else she was most likely to get fired the very next moment.

She placed the card into the machine and swiped it, a name flashed on the white screen 'Renna Amaryllis' with a fortune amount of money along with her name, that she wouldn't be able to count on her fingers in a single day.

The waitress wondered for a few seconds with her widened eyes glued to the numbers having more than four zeros, which of course was the maximum amount she had ever saw.

Her mind became occupied instantly why would such an aristocratic woman would come to eat in a small infamous restaurant rather than choosing some fancy place to dine.

"Here, ma'am. Thank you for coming here."

She haphazardly typed out the desired amount with the shaky cold hands and handed over the card to the lady without even daring to lift her questioning eyes up

It was already an honour for the restaurant that she had arrived there rather than going to any fancy place on Lenox Avenue.

So, she didn't want to embarrass the lady anymore with any of her foolish activity, when she had already starred enough at her, the cold aura was riveting enough to force everyone to ponder for once and to stare for numerous times.

The lady picked up her parcel and turned around without replying rather she waved her hand in a careless manner, gesturing a goodbye.

Before stepping out of that small restaurant, precisely a fast food spot, she heard an energetic voice as if the atmosphere in there was relieved after her departure, seemingly the pressurizing exit of a devil!

"Come again, ma'am!"

The sunlight was slanting everything into two with its heated rays serving effectively like a razor. As soon as the lady stepped outside on the road, a gust of warm wind blew her hair strands which had escaped from her bun, and brushed her soft skin of her face.

The road on that location was not a bustling spot as compared to a street of New York. Renna Amaryllis shifted the parcel into her right hand and slid her gaze across the street to carefully analyse the surroundings, as to remain assured that no danger was lurking within that street, in any narrow, dark alleyway.

•••

● Murmansk, Northern Russia ●

The bay of Kola or Murmansk fjord was certainly not a place where one wanted to be, specifically in the month of September when even the polar bears wear scarves and wished to dive under the piles of snow like a mole to hide away, unless the matter requires some great importance.

A man wearing a heavy yet oversized fur coat was standing at the bay, with his silvery, greyish orbs fixated towards the endlessly stretched blue sea which was motionless, resembling his outwardly condition.

When another man probably in his mid thirties approached him from nowhere with an anxious expression worn over his mature face, while the man was holding an iPad.

"M- master, spare this servant for intrusion and disturbance but you have to see this."

The man in his thirties halted close to him and daringly shoved the iPad in front of his master's lifeless eyes, the young master seemed to have a 'paralyzed face' as no expression changed or any color graced his handsome face.

Rather he just bothered to land his silver orbs onto the screen and honoured it with his merciful gaze, which showed a red glowing beeping spot indicating some serious matter.

The servant didn't dare to utter anything as he had already attempted a blunder by shoving the iPad without permit, the master didn't lift his eyes off the screen while the poor servant was barely holding it with his limbs going numb in that freezing cold temperature.