Quinn came running out into the gardens.
"Hide the shovel!" he said hastily.
George and Ms. Rosey, who both were sitting on outdoor furniture under the warm sun, looked up at Quinn, who glanced back behind him in a hurry.
"She got angry, didn't she?" said Ms. Rosey, vanishing the shovel that sat beside George with a wave of her wand. "I told you she won't like it."
"I was being cute! How was I supposed to know she wouldn't like that? Okay-okay, they're here. Act normal, act normal," said Quinn. However, he was the only one who needed to heed his words.
Lia and Abraham walked into the garden with Lia staring at Quinn with narrowed eyes. Quinn flat-out ignored the pointed look and decided to move things along.
"Grandfather, Ms. Rosey, let me introduce Abraham Astier," he said. "Abraham, this is our grandfather, George West, the Head of the family, and the lovely lady here's Ms. Rosey, the one actually in charge here."
Abraham stiffly stepped forward and introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Abraham Astier; it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Lia has told me so much about both of you."
George placed his teacup down and stood up. He walked to Abraham and faced the slightly shorter man. "Abraham Astier. . . I have been wanting to meet you ever since Lia told me about you. I look forward to knowing much about you today," George said as he shook hands with Abraham.
Abraham nodded before remembering what Lia had asked him to do and moved towards Ms. Rosey, who had stood up. He gently grasped her offered hand and kissed it in Ms. Rosey's preferred form of greeting. He felt breath return to him with Ms. Rosey nodded before silently sitting back down, which according to Lia, was a sign that he had passed the greeting phase.
He sighed in relief and turned back with a smile to see Lia and Quinn arguing in not-so-quiet whispers about how it should have been they who did the introduction.
"Children," said George, "come sit."
The West siblings stopped arguing and took their seats. George sat in front of the couple while Quinn took his seat beside Ms. Rosey, seated on the double-seater to the side.
"So Abraham, your accent, it's French, isn't it?" asked George.
Abraham received the cup of tea from Ms. Rosey. "Yes, I'm was born and raised in France," he said; his accent, while not heavy, had a French flavor to it.
"I thought so too," Quinn said, sipping on a caramel milkshake. "You said born and raised — does that mean you studied at Beauxbatons as well?"
"Yes, I did."
"How old are you again?"
"I'm twenty-six this year."
"So you were a year junior to Lia, huh. Did you two know each other back then?"
"I knew him by face and name, but that was it," said Lia. And as for Abraham, "I knew of Lia — well, everyone knew of Lia in the school, she was insanely famous. But we were never acquaintances, much less friends."
"Then how did you two meet and get together?" asked Quinn, interested.
"I met Abraham when I was in France. . . Lyon, wasn't it? I was having dinner when I spotted him in the same restaurant and asked him to join me, and we things started from there," said Lia smiling sweetly.
"So, you live in Lyon in Abraham?" asked George.
"No, I was working in Lyon back then," said Abraha. "I'm from Bordeaux."
"Oh, what's your profession then?" Quinn asked while adding the findings into the new Abraham titled memory book.
Abraham straightened, and a glimmer emerged in his eye. "I'm a chef, trained in French cuisine."
Quinn, the self-proclaimed foody, leaned forward, "Tell me more."
"Well, I have been interested in cooking since I was very young. My mere(mother) is a fantastic cook, and I used to help her out in the kitchen when I was but a child. Then when I was, I would like to say fourteen, I took a summer job as a kitchen porter at a restaurant that used ingredients that didn't go well with magic — I was hired to peel, cut, and do the prep work on them by hand.
"I must have done a good job back then because the Legumier(vegetable chef) told me that I could return the next year and they would pay me more," there was a nostalgic smile on Abraham as he recollected the memories. "I did return the following summer because the money they promised was good, but after the first day, the same chef asked me if I would like to learn from her. I had nothing better to do, so I agreed. I would learn in the morning when the restaurant wasn't open and would work in the evening before the dinner service.
"The summer ended, but the apprenticeship didn't. My teacher told me that I could return the next year. At that time, I wasn't sure if I wanted so I told her I would think about it. But then I started to cook in the dorms when I was hungry late at night. . . then my roommates started to ask me to cook, and before I knew it, I was being paid to cook for my dorm floor."
Abraham shrugged with a lop-sided smile, "It felt good. . . so I decided to go back the next summer, and the summer after that. By the time I graduated, I had decided that I was going to be a chef. I went to the same restaurant and took a formal apprenticeship under the Chef De Cuisine. I learned and worked there for two years before moving on.
"Then I went around the country, working under different chefs and learning everything they had to offer. . . and when I turned twenty-four, I was made the head chef of a new restaurant from a patron who had come to like my cooking."
"Wow, I want to do something like that!" said Quinn.
"You want to be a chef?" asked Abraham. "Y-You can come work for me if you want."
"Huh, no-no, I don't want to be a chef," Quinn waved his hand. "I want to go around the world and learn magic," he crossed his arms with a faraway look, "yeah that would be the dream. . . learning the different cultures to make something of my own." Books were an excellent source of knowledge, but there were other things — little intricacies and nuggets of wisdom, which could only be found where the magic was being actively used by a community.
'Ah, that's right,' thought Abraham, 'Lia said that Quinn loved magic.'
"Where is this restaurant of yours?" asked Quinn. "I would like to visit."
"Ah, I actually left that job," said Abraham, scratching the back of his head.
"Eh, then?"
Before Abraham could answer, Lia took the initiative. "Abraham starts his own restaurant the next month," she said proudly.
"Oh, a chef and a restaurateur, now that's more like it. So where's the new restaurant? I will visit there," said Quinn.
"It's in Manhattan, New York," said Abraham, surprising everybody.
"You got a permit to open a magical shop in Manhattan?" asked George. His eyes went to his granddaughter with a question in them. Lia matched his eyes but didn't deny it.
Manhattan was the magical hub of the United States. Woolworth Building — a building in Manhattan, housed the Headquarters of Magical Congress of the United States of America (MCOUSA), and because of the secretive and controlling nature of the Magical Congress, not anyone could just up open a magical business in the area. If it was a century or two in the past, it would have required a thorough vetting process to get a permit, and even then, a single mistake would result in the termination of the permit and the closing of the business. But today, the area was so high-profile and full of important people that it required connections in high places to do anything in Manhattan.
The fact that Abraham was allowed to open the shop in such a high-profile area and Lia not denying it could mean only one thing. She was the one who pulled the strings.
Lia heard a sound in her ear that came out of everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "Do you own the restaurant building in Manhattan? Blink once for yes."
She recognized the voice and turned to see that Quinn was talking with Abraham about the logistics required to run a restaurant, but she knew it was him.
Lia blinked once.
The voice spoke again, with Quinn still talking with Abraham. "Sell the building to me."
Lia frowned and mouthed, 'Why?'
"Because it's clear that you helped your boyfriend with his restaurant, and from the looks of it, grandfather isn't happy about it. He is probably, no scratch that — he IS thinking less of Abraham right now. If I know grandfather, he's is thinking that Abraham manipulated you into helping him.
"So if you sell the building to me, then that would placate his displeasure as that would take the control out of your hand and into mine. It would separate business from personal, which I'm sure would help when you explain your decision to him later. It's quite elementary, don't you think? How about it?"
Lia pursed her lips in thought for a while before reluctantly nodding.
"Now that's what are we talking about," said the voice projected with the help of sound and vibration magic. "Also, I'm not paying a single knut above the market price."
.
- (Scene Break) -
.
Lia closed the door behind her and sighed when the stopper clicked into place.
"So, how did it go?"
She looked up and saw Quinn leaning against the wall in front of their grandfather's study.
"He was upset," Lia said, "as you said he would be."
"Well, that was to be expected," said Quinn as the sibling pair walked away from the study. "You know, he's being protective, right? In our position, the biggest doubt while in a relationship is if our partner is with us because of our money. Someone as young as Abraham opening a restaurant screams him taking advantage of you."
"But, I did it on my own," she said. "Abraham doesn't know I own the building; I used one of our lawyers for lease negotiations. He even went to the permit office and applied for the license and doesn't know that I pushed it along the line to get approved."
Quinn patted Lia's back in comfort. "What's done can't be changed, so we need to move along and remedy the situation. Did you tell grandfather about me buying the building?"
"Yes, I did. Thank you for that suggestion. It helped," said Lia. She peered at Quinn and noticed her brother's relaxed features. "You don't seem to be upset about my choices — even Ms. Rosey was a bit disappointed."
Quinn glanced at his sister before shrugging. "You care for him; I can see that much. And he's at a crucial point of his career, so I can see why you helped him out.
"To be honest, I was tempted to use Legilimency to see what his intentions were," Quinn said, and Lia's eyes narrowed dangerously, "but I didn't do it. . . I believe in your choice of partner. Even if you made a mistake in judging a person's character, I know you won't let anyone bully or manipulate even if you have feelings for them."
And for Quinn, between him and Lia — she was the more dependable one.
Lia stopped and suddenly pulled Quinn into a hug. "When did my baby brother grow up so much? Don't grow up and stay my cute baby brother, please. She buried her face into his shoulder, "You even grew taller than me before I knew it," her hug tightened, "thank you, Quinn."
Quinn hugged her back. "It's okay, don't mention it; you're my dear sister, after all," he said. Quinn knew how much Lia cared for him. Ever since he had come into this world, she had sent him a letter twice every week while she was away, and that had continued throughout the years to this day, and he knew how busy Lia had been during the years when she had just started working, but not once had the letter stopped.
"But you know the problem isn't over, right?" said Quinn.
"What do you mean?" she said, not letting Quinn go from her hug.
"You'll have to tell Abraham that you were behind the setup of his restaurant, or he will find one day, and that won't be good for your relationship," he said.
'Hypocrite.' "Tell him the very next chance you get." 'Hypocrite.' "Come clean and be honest with him." 'Hypocrite.'
"But, what if he gets angry. . ."
"You'd have to take that risk, Lia. Even though I have only the guy for a few hours, I say that he will understand."
Lia stayed silent for a good while before nodding into Quinn's shoulder.
"Okay, now, let's go get some ice cream," said Quinn, ending the hug.
"That's a great idea," said Lia giggling, "the best one you had today; much better than the shovel."
"Don't disrespect the shovel. It holds power you can't even fathom," said Quinn, snorting. "Should we go get Abraham? Where is he staying."
"He's probably already sleeping. He said that today was stressful for him. He's staying at a hotel."
"He could have stayed the night here; why did you set him up in a hotel."
"I said the same thing to him, and Ms. Rosey had even set up a room for us in advance, but he refused."
"Us? As in you two in the same room? Eww. . ."
"Oh, grow up, will you?"
"Decide on one thing, woman. Do you want me to grow up or not?"
The day ended with the West siblings chattering away.
.
-*-*-*-*-*-
.
Quinn West - MC - I'm not paying for the ice cream.
Lia West - Elder sister - A girl in love.
George West - Grandfather - Protective granddaddy.
Ms. Rosey - Kept an eye on Abraham - Her thought — "A lot of work is needed. . ."
Abraham Astier - Chef, Restaurateur - Thinks he did pretty well.
Quinn came running out into the gardens.
"Hide the shovel!" he said hastily.
George and Ms. Rosey, who both were sitting on outdoor furniture under the warm sun, looked up at Quinn, who glanced back behind him in a hurry.
"She got angry, didn't she?" said Ms. Rosey, vanishing the shovel that sat beside George with a wave of her wand. "I told you she won't like it."
"I was being cute! How was I supposed to know she wouldn't like that? Okay-okay, they're here. Act normal, act normal," said Quinn. However, he was the only one who needed to heed his words.
Lia and Abraham walked into the garden with Lia staring at Quinn with narrowed eyes. Quinn flat-out ignored the pointed look and decided to move things along.
"Grandfather, Ms. Rosey, let me introduce Abraham Astier," he said. "Abraham, this is our grandfather, George West, the Head of the family, and the lovely lady here's Ms. Rosey, the one actually in charge here."
Abraham stiffly stepped forward and introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Abraham Astier; it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Lia has told me so much about both of you."
George placed his teacup down and stood up. He walked to Abraham and faced the slightly shorter man. "Abraham Astier. . . I have been wanting to meet you ever since Lia told me about you. I look forward to knowing much about you today," George said as he shook hands with Abraham.
Abraham nodded before remembering what Lia had asked him to do and moved towards Ms. Rosey, who had stood up. He gently grasped her offered hand and kissed it in Ms. Rosey's preferred form of greeting. He felt breath return to him with Ms. Rosey nodded before silently sitting back down, which according to Lia, was a sign that he had passed the greeting phase.
He sighed in relief and turned back with a smile to see Lia and Quinn arguing in not-so-quiet whispers about how it should have been they who did the introduction.
"Children," said George, "come sit."
The West siblings stopped arguing and took their seats. George sat in front of the couple while Quinn took his seat beside Ms. Rosey, seated on the double-seater to the side.
"So Abraham, your accent, it's French, isn't it?" asked George.
Abraham received the cup of tea from Ms. Rosey. "Yes, I'm was born and raised in France," he said; his accent, while not heavy, had a French flavor to it.
"I thought so too," Quinn said, sipping on a caramel milkshake. "You said born and raised — does that mean you studied at Beauxbatons as well?"
"Yes, I did."
"How old are you again?"
"I'm twenty-six this year."
"So you were a year junior to Lia, huh. Did you two know each other back then?"
"I knew him by face and name, but that was it," said Lia. And as for Abraham, "I knew of Lia — well, everyone knew of Lia in the school, she was insanely famous. But we were never acquaintances, much less friends."
"Then how did you two meet and get together?" asked Quinn, interested.
"I met Abraham when I was in France. . . Lyon, wasn't it? I was having dinner when I spotted him in the same restaurant and asked him to join me, and we things started from there," said Lia smiling sweetly.
"So, you live in Lyon in Abraham?" asked George.
"No, I was working in Lyon back then," said Abraha. "I'm from Bordeaux."
"Oh, what's your profession then?" Quinn asked while adding the findings into the new Abraham titled memory book.
Abraham straightened, and a glimmer emerged in his eye. "I'm a chef, trained in French cuisine."
Quinn, the self-proclaimed foody, leaned forward, "Tell me more."
"Well, I have been interested in cooking since I was very young. My mere(mother) is a fantastic cook, and I used to help her out in the kitchen when I was but a child. Then when I was, I would like to say fourteen, I took a summer job as a kitchen porter at a restaurant that used ingredients that didn't go well with magic — I was hired to peel, cut, and do the prep work on them by hand.
"I must have done a good job back then because the Legumier(vegetable chef) told me that I could return the next year and they would pay me more," there was a nostalgic smile on Abraham as he recollected the memories. "I did return the following summer because the money they promised was good, but after the first day, the same chef asked me if I would like to learn from her. I had nothing better to do, so I agreed. I would learn in the morning when the restaurant wasn't open and would work in the evening before the dinner service.
"The summer ended, but the apprenticeship didn't. My teacher told me that I could return the next year. At that time, I wasn't sure if I wanted so I told her I would think about it. But then I started to cook in the dorms when I was hungry late at night. . . then my roommates started to ask me to cook, and before I knew it, I was being paid to cook for my dorm floor."
Abraham shrugged with a lop-sided smile, "It felt good. . . so I decided to go back the next summer, and the summer after that. By the time I graduated, I had decided that I was going to be a chef. I went to the same restaurant and took a formal apprenticeship under the Chef De Cuisine. I learned and worked there for two years before moving on.
"Then I went around the country, working under different chefs and learning everything they had to offer. . . and when I turned twenty-four, I was made the head chef of a new restaurant from a patron who had come to like my cooking."
"Wow, I want to do something like that!" said Quinn.
"You want to be a chef?" asked Abraham. "Y-You can come work for me if you want."
"Huh, no-no, I don't want to be a chef," Quinn waved his hand. "I want to go around the world and learn magic," he crossed his arms with a faraway look, "yeah that would be the dream. . . learning the different cultures to make something of my own." Books were an excellent source of knowledge, but there were other things — little intricacies and nuggets of wisdom, which could only be found where the magic was being actively used by a community.
'Ah, that's right,' thought Abraham, 'Lia said that Quinn loved magic.'
"Where is this restaurant of yours?" asked Quinn. "I would like to visit."
"Ah, I actually left that job," said Abraham, scratching the back of his head.
"Eh, then?"
Before Abraham could answer, Lia took the initiative. "Abraham starts his own restaurant the next month," she said proudly.
"Oh, a chef and a restaurateur, now that's more like it. So where's the new restaurant? I will visit there," said Quinn.
"It's in Manhattan, New York," said Abraham, surprising everybody.
"You got a permit to open a magical shop in Manhattan?" asked George. His eyes went to his granddaughter with a question in them. Lia matched his eyes but didn't deny it.
Manhattan was the magical hub of the United States. Woolworth Building — a building in Manhattan, housed the Headquarters of Magical Congress of the United States of America (MCOUSA), and because of the secretive and controlling nature of the Magical Congress, not anyone could just up open a magical business in the area. If it was a century or two in the past, it would have required a thorough vetting process to get a permit, and even then, a single mistake would result in the termination of the permit and the closing of the business. But today, the area was so high-profile and full of important people that it required connections in high places to do anything in Manhattan.
The fact that Abraham was allowed to open the shop in such a high-profile area and Lia not denying it could mean only one thing. She was the one who pulled the strings.
Lia heard a sound in her ear that came out of everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "Do you own the restaurant building in Manhattan? Blink once for yes."
She recognized the voice and turned to see that Quinn was talking with Abraham about the logistics required to run a restaurant, but she knew it was him.
Lia blinked once.
The voice spoke again, with Quinn still talking with Abraham. "Sell the building to me."
Lia frowned and mouthed, 'Why?'
"Because it's clear that you helped your boyfriend with his restaurant, and from the looks of it, grandfather isn't happy about it. He is probably, no scratch that — he IS thinking less of Abraham right now. If I know grandfather, he's is thinking that Abraham manipulated you into helping him.
"So if you sell the building to me, then that would placate his displeasure as that would take the control out of your hand and into mine. It would separate business from personal, which I'm sure would help when you explain your decision to him later. It's quite elementary, don't you think? How about it?"
Lia pursed her lips in thought for a while before reluctantly nodding.
"Now that's what are we talking about," said the voice projected with the help of sound and vibration magic. "Also, I'm not paying a single knut above the market price."
.
- (Scene Break) -
.
Lia closed the door behind her and sighed when the stopper clicked into place.
"So, how did it go?"
She looked up and saw Quinn leaning against the wall in front of their grandfather's study.
"He was upset," Lia said, "as you said he would be."
"Well, that was to be expected," said Quinn as the sibling pair walked away from the study. "You know, he's being protective, right? In our position, the biggest doubt while in a relationship is if our partner is with us because of our money. Someone as young as Abraham opening a restaurant screams him taking advantage of you."
"But, I did it on my own," she said. "Abraham doesn't know I own the building; I used one of our lawyers for lease negotiations. He even went to the permit office and applied for the license and doesn't know that I pushed it along the line to get approved."
Quinn patted Lia's back in comfort. "What's done can't be changed, so we need to move along and remedy the situation. Did you tell grandfather about me buying the building?"
"Yes, I did. Thank you for that suggestion. It helped," said Lia. She peered at Quinn and noticed her brother's relaxed features. "You don't seem to be upset about my choices — even Ms. Rosey was a bit disappointed."
Quinn glanced at his sister before shrugging. "You care for him; I can see that much. And he's at a crucial point of his career, so I can see why you helped him out.
"To be honest, I was tempted to use Legilimency to see what his intentions were," Quinn said, and Lia's eyes narrowed dangerously, "but I didn't do it. . . I believe in your choice of partner. Even if you made a mistake in judging a person's character, I know you won't let anyone bully or manipulate even if you have feelings for them."
And for Quinn, between him and Lia — she was the more dependable one.
Lia stopped and suddenly pulled Quinn into a hug. "When did my baby brother grow up so much? Don't grow up and stay my cute baby brother, please. She buried her face into his shoulder, "You even grew taller than me before I knew it," her hug tightened, "thank you, Quinn."
Quinn hugged her back. "It's okay, don't mention it; you're my dear sister, after all," he said. Quinn knew how much Lia cared for him. Ever since he had come into this world, she had sent him a letter twice every week while she was away, and that had continued throughout the years to this day, and he knew how busy Lia had been during the years when she had just started working, but not once had the letter stopped.
"But you know the problem isn't over, right?" said Quinn.
"What do you mean?" she said, not letting Quinn go from her hug.
"You'll have to tell Abraham that you were behind the setup of his restaurant, or he will find one day, and that won't be good for your relationship," he said.
'Hypocrite.' "Tell him the very next chance you get." 'Hypocrite.' "Come clean and be honest with him." 'Hypocrite.'
"But, what if he gets angry. . ."
"You'd have to take that risk, Lia. Even though I have only the guy for a few hours, I say that he will understand."
Lia stayed silent for a good while before nodding into Quinn's shoulder.
"Okay, now, let's go get some ice cream," said Quinn, ending the hug.
"That's a great idea," said Lia giggling, "the best one you had today; much better than the shovel."
"Don't disrespect the shovel. It holds power you can't even fathom," said Quinn, snorting. "Should we go get Abraham? Where is he staying."
"He's probably already sleeping. He said that today was stressful for him. He's staying at a hotel."
"He could have stayed the night here; why did you set him up in a hotel."
"I said the same thing to him, and Ms. Rosey had even set up a room for us in advance, but he refused."
"Us? As in you two in the same room? Eww. . ."
"Oh, grow up, will you?"
"Decide on one thing, woman. Do you want me to grow up or not?"
The day ended with the West siblings chattering away.
.
-*-*-*-*-*-
.
Quinn West - MC - I'm not paying for the ice cream.
Lia West - Elder sister - A girl in love.
George West - Grandfather - Protective granddaddy.
Ms. Rosey - Kept an eye on Abraham - Her thought — "A lot of work is needed. . ."
Abraham Astier - Chef, Restaurateur - Thinks he did pretty well.
