The Wednesday Absence
Liam walked into L'Etoile at exactly 12:45 PM, the peak of the lunch rush. He didn't wait for the hostess to seat him; he walked straight to the section where he had sat two days prior. His eyes swept the room with a surgical intensity, searching for the long black hair and the haunting, amber gaze that had kept him awake until dawn. He felt a strange, uncharacteristic thrum of nervous energy in his chest—a sensation he usually reserved for multi-billion naira closing deals.
A server approached his table, but it wasn't the girl he was looking for. This woman was older, her movements hurried and mechanical. "Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to L'Etoile. Can I start you with some sparkling water?"
Liam barely looked at the menu. "The young lady who usually works this section," he began, trying to keep his voice level and professional. "Slender, long black hair, and a small, faint tribal mark on her right cheek. Is she on shift today?"
The waitress paused, tapping her pen against her chin as she thought. "Oh, you mean Eliana? No, sir. Today is Wednesday. Eliana doesn't come to work every Wednesday; it's her scheduled off-day. She won't be back until tomorrow morning."
The disappointment hit Liam like a physical weight. He had spent the entire morning rehearsing what he would say—how he would ask her name properly, how he would offer his help without sounding patronizing. Now, the seat across from him felt colder than ever. "Wednesday," he repeated softly, more to himself than the server. "I see."
"Is there a problem, sir? I can get the manager if there was an issue with your previous service," the woman offered, looking concerned by the grimace on the billionaire's face.
"No, no problem at all," Liam replied, standing up abruptly. He pulled a crisp note from his wallet and placed it on the table. "I won't be staying for lunch. Thank you."
He walked out of the restaurant, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. If Wednesday was her off-day from the restaurant, did that mean she spent the entire day preparing for the Night Rose? Or was she somewhere else entirely, living a life he couldn't even imagine? The "Iceman" felt a flicker of genuine fear. He was chasing a ghost who seemed to vanish every time he got close. As he signaled David to bring the car around, Liam looked at the heavy clouds gathering over the Lagos skyline. "Tomorrow," he whispered. "I'll be back tomorrow." But as he got into the backseat, his mind drifted to the club.