Waiter's Wager: Torn Allegiances

Mark held the tray with the glass cup and wine tightly, releasing a deep breath, attempting to suppress his nervousness.

He joined the other staff, striding down to the meeting hall. He didn’t feel good about it, but he was in charge of serving this section.

The hall's door swung open wide, and he led the staff in, carrying drinks and food.

“Welcome to Trump International Hotel. Here is the order you placed,” Mark bowed his head, a clean handkerchief in hand, resting at the base of the wine bottle.

He tilted the wine slightly, pouring a few glasses for the young man.

It was a business meeting involving five businessmen and women. Among the women was his wife, Lacey

Bowing his head, he gently placed the wine bottle in an ice bowl. Mark felt eyes on him but decided to focus on his work, not wanting to cause trouble for his wife or be looked down upon by her boss and colleagues.

“Isn’t he your husband? I almost couldn’t recognize him for a while,” Mr. Alistair asked Lacey.

She cleared her throat slightly, glancing at Mark, not wishing to be acknowledged as his wife at that moment.

“Sure.” Her replies were quick yet faint; she knew lying wouldn’t help because her boss knew him well.

Mark realized what was about to happen and wanted to walk out with the other staff.

“Mr. Jones, stay and have a drink with us,” Mr. Alistair said before Mark could leave. Mark halted, swallowing hard.

“I really do not think that’s necessary, sir,” Elsa, Lacey's best friend, spoke up before things got even more awkward.

“What do you mean not necessary? I’m just trying to be nice to my business partner's husband, and I don’t think that should be an issue,” Mr. Alistair snorted.

“Sir, I think we should just let him be since he’s still working and he’s not needed here,” Lacey quickly said, knowing her boss well.

He was far from being nice, especially with his choice of words.

“Come on, Lacey! You know how important this contract is, right? Let’s not delay it and just let him have his seat already,” Mr. Alistair said frankly, giving no room for another opinion.

Mark realized he had no choice but to sit with them, not wanting his wife to lose an important deal because of him.

Swallowing his dry throat, he took his seat beside his wife gently, staying quiet, fearing he might add to the tension. But eventually, he found he couldn't escape.

Lacey had always wanted to avoid this kind of situation, but it only got worse each time. The meeting was a high-stakes contract, and she couldn’t afford to lose it.

Mr. Alistair was not an easy man to deal with, and she knew that well. Mark felt uncomfortable, even lifting a glass of water to his mouth.

“It’s really unexpected to meet you here. I mean, you working as a waiter is unexpected and unbelievable too,” Mr. Alistair laughed.

Mark looked down at his fingers, trying not to let his brows rise in discomfort. He already felt uneasy and too low sitting among them.

“Tell me, really. Why are you working as a waiter? I did hear that Lacey married a pauper, but I never expected someone who is not qualified for a decent job,” Mr. Alistair said.

The other staff, except Elsa and Lacey, ended up laughing, while some chuckled and others appraised him in his simple clothes.

Mark remained quiet. He felt the man's intentions were to mock him, and he regretted not turning down the offer immediately and walking away before it got worse.

“We should talk about the business, sir,” Elsa said, attempting to diffuse the awkward atmosphere.

“Business? That’s unfair to Lacey's husband, the waiter. How is he supposed to understand? Is he even educated?” Mr. Alistair asked.

Most of the meeting attendees couldn’t hold in their laughter anymore. “He does look too poor, I will say,” Mr. Alistair's close associates said frankly.

“That’s true,” another lady agreed.

Mark held his hands tightly under the table, trying not to break down with their words. It was becoming too much for Lacey to bear.

If only the contract wasn’t important. She tried not to show that he’s her husband, yet this happened.

Mark kept staring at the glass of water before him while they laughed and joked at him.

“I feel like I made a mistake letting someone of a lower class sit with us. I shouldn’t have allowed that, and now I’m afraid his cheap perfume will contaminate mine,” Mr. Alistair said with scorn in his voice.

Mark was about to burst at that moment, wanting to stand up from the table. Elsa and Lacey couldn’t say anything.

Stopping Mr. Alistair would only make things worse, and they were already as bad as they could get. Just until this meeting ended, and she could breathe.

Mark wondered why the man had to be like that. It wasn’t as if he wanted to be in this situation either; it was just the circumstances of life that had brought him down.

Did he feel happy looking down on him this way, turning a man like him into a laughing stock? Mark wasn't really surprised by his words.

He felt that just because the man was rich and he was not, didn’t mean he could demean him in such a way.

All this because his wife wanted a contract from him. His leg started shaking, and his head refused to leave the glass cup in front of him.

“I have finished the wine. Come, pour me more wine,” Mr. Alistair said, and Mark was forced to raise his head this time.

“You shouldn’t be looking at me that way, Mr. Jones. It’s your work, and you could have been out there bowing your heads to people better than you are,” Mr. Alistair said plainly.