Embarrassment

Vanessa, who was still waiting for the 'judges' to come and announce the result of the 'assessment ', flashed back to the events that took place seven days earlier, which led her to take such drastic steps.

She had woken up that morning feeling very optimistic about her day since she had managed to stay three weeks at her present job without debtors coming to embarrass her, unlike the other jobs she had been unable to keep for more than a week.

As she prepared her breakfast, she recalled that she had read somewhere that curdled milk was a bad omen, and some dream interpretation perceived it as a sign of dirty money. Yet despite the sense of foreboding the thought brought, she had adamantly ignored it. She had used the last of the curdled milk alongside some cereals, convincing herself that it was only a day past its expiration date. Since it was in her refrigerator and not her dream, its ominous interpretation wasn't applicable.

She had gone through her day excitedly and full of life until some men stepped into the restaurant. Seeing the faces of the men who had just walked into the restaurant, with eery smiles tugging the sides of their lips and malevolent gazes scrutinizing her, she had finally realized that those words were true.

At first glance, one could feel the portentous aura emanating from them. With their gaits, clothes, tattoos, and piercings on visible parts of their body, it was obvious they were not the type to frequent such a place, and only one name could be used to address them, 'thugs'.

Their presence made the customers uncomfortable as they turned to look at the group of four men who walked deep into the restaurant. Side talks and murmurs could be heard when they walked in, and everyone seemed to shift uncomfortably in their seats. Her gaze followed them until they settled at a table in the heart of the restaurant.

Hoping they were yet to see her, Vanessa turned to run away so she could hide from them, but the last ray of hope she had clung to was snatched away when the manager beckoned on her to attend to table seven. The universe must be so cruel to dish such a stroke of luck at me, Vanessa concluded.

From the moment they had strolled into the restaurant, she had known encountering those men was inevitable, but she had hoped that maybe lady luck would be on her side, but it was obvious lady luck had gone on a vacation at the sight of the men. Or maybe things would have turned out differently had she not taken the curdled milk. Who knows?

Pulling her million-dollar fake smile, which perfectly hid the nervous look in her eyes, she beelined her way to the table, hoping and praying they wouldn't embarrass her today.

"Good day, gentlemen. Can I take your orders?" She asked in the most natural voice she could muster.

The men looked at her with malicious intent, and her heart rate shot over the moon, but she dared not show it at the moment. Her gaze locked with the burliest of them who sat at the table. From his looks and the way the others were sitting around him, it was obvious he was the leader of this little gang of thugs, the one they've always mentioned during their many visits. She couldn't even begin to imagine what demon must have possessed her father to take a loan from men who looked as mean and ugly as these.

The men could tell what she was trying to do, so with a smirk on his face, the leader looked at her, "The finest and the most expensive things you serve would be good for a start." He said, revealing his set of brown teeth, which Vanessa would have called 'rotten' had she not been a very polite and well-raised young lady. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the others smile and give an approving nod as if they had just heard the most delightsome news of the year. Of course, they were about to be treated to a three-course meal divinely prepared by the head chef himself because, as per the man's request, that was the best and most expensive meal on the menu.

Vanessa was slightly taken aback by the man's request. Nonetheless, she had to play along or risk facing embarrassment. Who knows? Maybe the men only came to eat and remind her with their presence that she owed them. "Okay, sir." She said politely, and then with steady yet hurried steps, Vanessa made her way to the kitchen and delivered the orders to the chef, who quickly delved to work, preparing them as quickly as he could.

Minutes later, Vanessa returned with a trolley that had the men's orders. She placed the food on the table and gave a bow, but not before saying, "Enjoy your meal, gentlemen."

Acknowledging these men as gentlemen was the sickest irony of life. There was nothing gentle about them. From the way they were dressed, to their coarse palms which looked like they had handled even the worse of weapons, to the way they stared at her with malicious intent, even down to the way they licked their lips greedily and noisily as their eyes devoured the well-plated meal. It was obvious Vanessa was being too generous with words - or rather being too cautious with them.

"Of course, we will." One of the men cackled lightly, while the others smiled wickedly, except the boss, who still had his eyes fixed on her. She hurried away without waiting to hear another word.

'Stay calm, Nessa. Nothing is going to go wrong. They will just leave after eating.' Vanessa told herself as she hurried to the ladies' room while praying desperately that it would be so.

As Vanessa walked out of the ladies' room some moment later, her colleague hurried down to meet her, "The manager says you should go and give those scary men their bill. They're about leaving." The girl said with a dramatic shudder, indicating she could have helped her had the men not looked so scary.

Vanessa swallowed nervously, "They're done with their meal already?" She asked nervously.

"Apparently, they eat like hungry wolves. They just kept eating even with food in their mouth." She said, describing the scene with her hands.

Vanessa heaved deeply. "Alright. Thanks," she said as she hurried past the girl while praying they wouldn't cause her any trouble. If it had been possible for her to pay for their meal herself, she would have done so to avoid this confrontation, but unfortunately, she can't afford it.

"Excuse me, sirs!" She called in a polite voice, halting the men who slowly turned to the source of the voice beckoning on them.

The leader of the men sized her up from head to toes, his hand planted in his pocket, and a knowing yet taunting smile tugged on the side of his lips, "Yes?" He answered, arching a brow at her.

"Sir, your bill is yet to be settled." She informed him in a polite voice, just in case they had forgotten that services were to be paid for and not leaving because they wanted her to pay for it.

"I know." The man replied nonchalantly. Vanessa's gaze stayed on him for a split second before pulling out the bill slip from the menu in her hand, knowing that was what was expected from her since the manager was keenly watching them.

"Sir, this is your bill." She said, handing over the slip to him, but the man simply looked at it with no intention of accepting it from her. His eyes stayed on her as if contemplating if she was worth spending his energy on by saying the words about to roll out of his lips.

One of the men took the bill from her and passed it to the others, who cackled and chuckled at whatever they found amusing before the last of them turned to the boss and said, "Boss, it's a doable fee. It doesn't cover one percent of what we're owed." He informed him.

"She can take it from the money they owe," another added.

"Then the case is settled then. You can take it from what you owe us." The boss concluded with an undermining gaze. Vanessa felt like her heart was about to stop. She felt a wave of embarrassment wash through her when the man said those words. She turned to see if others were paying attention to this 'little' ongoing commotion.

And of course, they were!