Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

“I have to go. I’ll be back later. Stay here, don’t go anywhere,” Lucian uttered. With a swift motion, he rose from his seat and quickly left. I found myself gazing at his retreating figure, utterly baffled. What could have compelled him to rush off in such haste? He had simply abandoned his meal, left untouched. I shook my head in dismay. What a waste.

I retrieved his deserted plate and returned it to the kitchen, speculating that perhaps he had been called elsewhere for an important matter. It certainly appeared to be an urgent affair.

“Why do you bring back the food?” Claire inquired as she noticed me clutching Lucian’s tray.

“He left, probably for some important matters,” I replied, casually shrugging my shoulders. She nodded in understanding.

“Well, people come and go,” Claire mused, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. My attention shifted towards the entrance as a newcomer arrived. It was the man I had encountered the other day, donning his ideal attire.

“He certainly has a penchant for shades, does he not?” I remarked. His attire was similar to some models. Is he a model himself?

He surveyed the surroundings, an amused smile illuminating his face as his gaze swept across the room. Eventually, he settled himself at Lucian’s usual table. His eyes briefly flickered towards the counter, and then he raised his hand. I approached him, notepad in hand.

“Hello, what can I assist you with?”

“Cercei, isn’t it?” he inquired, recollecting my name. Crap! I couldn’t recall his name, for I am dreadfully inept at remembering such things. What was his name again?

“Yes,” I chuckled awkwardly, inwardly wishing he hadn’t posed the question of whether I remembered him.

“Do you remember me?” he pressed on. Gosh, here comes the trouble! Why was he suddenly grilling my memory?

“Um… well…” I forced a smile, biting my lip in vexation. He arched an eyebrow slightly, urging me to continue. Alas, I conceded defeat, my smile transforming into an awkward grimace.

“I’m sorry, I’m rather dreadful with names,” I confessed. I gave up with an awkward smile. He chuckled, thoroughly amused.

“It’s okay. I understand the challenge of retaining names during the daily influx of customers,” he reassured me with a pleasant smile. I nodded in appreciation. I was relieved that he did not perceive me as impolite.

“May I request a cup of coffee, please?” he inquired politely.

“Coming right up. Your name again?…” I trailed off, once more striving to get his name.

“Vincent,” he replied, flashing another smile. He seemed to possess an affinity for smiling, a stark contrast to Lucian, who perpetually appeared vexed with the world.

“Coming right up, Vincent,” I acknowledged before making my way to the counter.

“So… he is…” Claire wore a mischievous smirk as I reached the counter. It seemed she couldn’t resist teasing me, making it an essential part of her day.

“So?” I poured the coffee, not bothering to glance in her direction.

“I believe he’s interested in you,” Claire blurted out. I scoffed in response.

“Oh, please. You think everyone’s interested in me,” I remarked, finding her assumption rather ridiculous. She seemed to believe that any customer who smiled at me harboured romantic intentions.

“Honey, even from afar, I can tell he’s flirting with you,” she asserted confidently.

“No, he wasn’t. He was simply being friendly,” I retorted, certain that Vincent harboured no romantic interest. He had reintroduced himself only because I shamelessly forgot his name.

“Honey, you’re too naive,” Claire tapped my back while speaking, a gesture that dripped with naughtiness. She shook her head dramatically, as if profoundly disappointed, and even clutched her chest for added effect.

“Your innocence is both a blessing and a curse,” she declared abruptly. Her remark furrowed my brows. What did she mean by that?

I chose to ignore her dramatic gesture and returned to Vincent’s table to deliver his coffee.

With conscious care, I placed the cup on his table, capturing his attention as he momentarily set aside the newspaper he had been engrossed in.

“Thank you,” he expressed with a smile.

“Enjoy your coffee,” I politely smiled as I finished my task. I was prepared to leave when he called me again.

“Cercei,” his gentle voice resonated. I turned back to face him, observing as he set aside the newspaper and gestured towards the chair opposite him.

“Join me,” he suggested casually. I instinctively shook my head, raising my hands in a gesture of refusal.

“Thank you, but it is against our cafè policy for servers to sit with customers,” I politely mentioned. Maintaining a professional distance between servers and patrons seemed to be a standard rule in most food establishments.

“Why is that?” he inquired, his smile still intact.

“It’s simply part of our protocols,” I replied briefly.

“Isn’t it also within your protocols to please the customer?” he pressed on, refusing to let me leave. I nodded in acknowledgment.

“Then, I would be pleased if you took a seat before me, if only for a short while,” he declared, making his intention clear.

I chuckled at his clever manipulation of the situation. Without further contemplation, I acquiesced and sat down. I could sense Claire’s curious gaze on us, but I paid her no mind. Vincent had proven to be remarkably friendly, exuding politeness and kindness. He engaged me in conversation, though he avoided discussing personal matters.

As it turned out, he indeed worked as a model in New York, but he considered it part-time work. According to him, his true work demanded the majority of his time. He viewed modeling as a passion rather than a job. I found his perspective intriguing, as it is rare to encounter individuals who genuinely enjoy what they do, mostly considering their work as a mere responsibility rather than an opportunity.

“Are you new here? I don’t recall seeing you before,” he inquired, sipping his coffee.

“Yes, my Mamà and I recently settled here,” I responded, providing a concise answer.

“Do you often come here?” I returned the question immediately.

“Not regularly, but I have been coming here for quite some time,” he revealed. I was tempted to inquire about his origins, but I refrained from appearing too interested.

“Ah, you must like it here then,” I commented, attempting to sound casual.

“Umm, I guess I’ll be coming here often from now on,” he replied with a playful smirk. I simply smiled in response, though the true meaning behind his words was unclear to me. Did he perhaps appreciate the café more due to an improvement in our menu?

“I am actually a friend of the café’s owner,” he explained suddenly, catching me off guard.

“You know Aunt Melanie?” I expressed my surprise.

“She’s your aunt?” He seemed equally taken aback. His gaze lingered on my face.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Now I can see a resemblance between the two of you,” he chuckled.

“How do you know her?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued. Aunt Melanie had a knack for forming connections and was a social butterfly. Before I started working at the café, she used to lend a hand here due to a staff shortage. I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew many people as she had often interacted closely with her customers. Currently, she is fully engaged with her tailor shop above the café with my Mom.

“We used to conduct business together,” he revealed. Although I yearned to inquire further about the nature of their business, I refrained, respecting the personal boundary.

Our conversation lasted only briefly as more customers began to arrive, demanding my attention to take their orders. Vincent expressed gratitude for my brief company, mentioning that he had merely been playing around but was delighted to have made a new friend. I reciprocate the sentiment, pleased to have encountered someone who seemed genuinely kind. I look forward to having more friends here too.

I had anticipated the interaction might be awkward as I am not exceptionally skilled at socialising. However, Vincent proved to be an effortless conversationalist, exuding a light-heartedness that banished any potential awkwardness. Despite our short talk, he had a subtle sense of humour, which made our conversation enjoyable.