by R. R. Banks
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” said Dillion as she moved back, out of his embrace.
“No, it’s just… I have wanted to do that for the last hour, but it scares me because I have never wanted to kiss before. Father sets up all of my dates, the same as he set us up. But you are different, you’re not some pompous fool, who’s a yes man to my father. I actually really like you.” Marisol admitted while she rose to stand by the railing of the balcony.
Dillion came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I like you too, and I will never force you to do something you don’t want to do.” he said as he hugged he close.
“I would love to try that kiss again.”
“Your wish is my command, sweetness.” as he turned her toward him. He lightly ran his fingers down her cheek, stopping under her chin to slightly lift it up as his lips came to meet hers. This time she placed her arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss.
“My God,” thought Dillion to himself, “When did kissing feel this good?”
The train squealed into the stop without Robert feeling as if he had achieved any real sleep. He opened his eyes and felt a bit groggy, looking across to see Dillon looking startled as he too woke up. “It wasn’t worth it, was it?” he asked Dillon who looked better worse for wear.
“I think I slept great for about ten minutes,” he replied with a faint yawn. “I think the rest of it was me stuck in that place between sleep and thought.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s where I stayed,” continued Robert as he rose to his feet and grabbed his bag. “Come on. If we can get off here first, we can try and get a few extra minutes in the terminal.”
Dillon nodded in approval as he rose to his feet and placed his arms over his head, stretching himself out while attempting to clear his mind of the night before. He reached back and grabbed his bag, and walked out of the private seating area and into the aisle before the rest of the passengers could fill it. They moved quickly toward the back of the train, walking out the door to find a baggage steward waiting for connecting passengers.
“Switzerland,” said Robert as he and Dillon gave him their bags and showed him the electronic boarding pass so that they could be properly tagged and waiting for them on the next train.
“Does that not worry you?” asked Dillon as they walked away, looking back to see both of their bags placed in a large bin with a blue tag on each handle.
“All the time,” stated Robert with a sly grin. “In all honesty, it’s a lot better that they handle my luggage than me having to carry it around everywhere. As often as I take the Eurail, they’ve only misplaced my luggage once, and I got it sent to my hotel a few hours later. Unfortunately, in this world, mistakes happen from time to time.”
“Right, mistakes do happen,” reiterated Dillon as he got an uneasy feeling in his stomach. “I just never let anyone take my luggage, so it makes me a bit worried to see it going with someone else.”
Robert looked at his friend as they walked through the terminal toward the food court. “How do you never let anyone touch your bags?” he asked.
“I typically only fly on a private jet, and I can do whatever I want with my luggage,” he explained. “I never leave my luggage with a concierge and always follow the bellman up with it, unless I take it to my room myself.”
Robert smirked. “That’s awfully peculiar.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re a billionaire who has a phobia of letting people do things for you,” he explained sarcastically. I honestly love it when my luggage is dealt with for me. It’s one less thing I have to drag through an airport or train terminal.”
Dillon shrugged his shoulders as he looked around at the scenery, noticing all the advertisements and people on benches, as well as the eclectic mix of people around that were traveling to various destinations. “It’s not often that I get to be in a place like this,” he said with a hint of excitement. “Is it always this busy?”
“Always,” replied Robert, focusing his eyes on the food court ahead of him. “As much as you like to enjoy the culture of cities and what not, we really need to get you in some of the busier airports in the world on a Friday. I wonder how well you could handle Heathrow Airport in London.”
Dillon shook his head. “I fly on private jets for a reason.”
The two entered the food court and looked around the area. Dillon stepped forward to get a better look, but because of the time, not many of them were open. “There’s Greek,” pointed Dillon, prompting Robert to immediately disagree.
“That’s not Greek,” he said with disgust. “That’s imitation Greek that will turn your stomach into battery acid.”
“Ah, it can’t be that bad,” said Dillon as he stepped forward with Robert behind him. “I’m sure I’ve had worse in Grand Central Station.”
Robert walked up to see what was being served and immediately turned his nose up at it. “Dillon, that’s not food.”
“Sure it is,” he replied. “You can’t always judge a book by its cover.”
“That looks revolting,” continued Robert. “If my grandmother was alive right now and saw this, I’m positive she would go behind the counter and commit assault.”
Dillon laughed as he walked up to the counter. “Let me get a lamb gyro,” he ordered, looking back at Robert. “You sure you don’t want anything?”
“Just get me a bottle of water,” he replied, still disgusted by the sight of the food being served.
“Two bottles of water, too,” continued Dillon, handing the girl at the counter his credit card and quickly receiving the bottles of water. With a quick turn, he walked back and handed Robert the water with an awkward smile, immediately turning back to see that his food was ready.
Dillon sat across from Robert, who was protesting brunch as none of the restaurants in the terminal were open and that the Greek restaurant did not serve anything he deemed edible. Dillon picked up his plastic fork with Robert judging him briefly before placing it in the Italian-style gyro. He chewed slowly, looking at Robert with a slowly changing expression before picking up his napkin and placing what was in his mouth directly into it. “Okay, that was a mistake.”
“I told you that it would be,” replied Robert as he returned a text message on his phone to Camille. “It seems like Camille is getting out of her meeting a bit earlier than planned.”
Dillon reached forward and grabbed his bottle of water to rinse out his mouth from the revolting gyro. He swished the water around in his mouth before swallowing and making another disgusted face. “That didn’t make it much better,” he said reluctantly. “That’s good for her, too, by the way.”
“Yeah, she told me she’s going to take the rest of the afternoon to catch up on some sleep,” he replied with an incredibly coy disposition, grinning with a sly expression as he placed his phone back in his pocket. “I guess she was a bit out of sorts this morning.”
“Did you drug her?” joked Dillon. “I’ve never heard any story from you involving a woman not being well rested the next day.”
“Ha… ha…” stated Robert sarcastically as he pointed to Dillon’s gyro. “I’d say you could go eat some crow, but I’m almost positive you just did.”
Dillon shook his head. “This was supposed to be a lamb gyro,” he replied. “This tastes nothing like a gyro, or even food for that matter.”
Robert nodded. “Hence why I’m going to wait and eat on the train.”
“I probably should have followed your lead,” he replied. “I just felt I could try eating something like this, because how hard is it to screw up a gyro?”
“You’re in Italy, not Greece,” stated Robert in a matter-of-fact tone. “If you want a good gyro, I’ll take you to my family’s winery and get one of the workers there to show you how to make one.”
Dillon laughed. “Oh yeah,” he realized. “I forgot you were Greek.”
“Technically, I’m British, but my family is from Greece and they know how to make
gyros.” Robert paused a bit to look back at the station clock, seeing how an hour had passed since they got off the first train. With the long walk from the terminals to the food court, he shifted his chair back and reached for his bottle of water. “If you’re not going to eat that filth, toss it out and we can go ahead and work our way back through the terminal,” he said astutely. “Once the train is here, we can board and head to the dining car and get them to take care of us before we depart.”
With a subtle nod, Dillon pushed is chair back. “That’s probably the best idea you have had all day, sir.”
“I’m hoping to have a lot more.”
Dillon and Robert stepped away from the tables as Dillon picked up his tray and walked it over to the garbage. Both holding bottles of water, the two of them walked through the terminal without anything else in their possession, saying small prayers to themselves that their luggage would end up in their cabin on the next train. They walked at a nice, calm pace, as the train wouldn’t depart for another few hours, though the time that it arrived was a bit of a mystery. They followed the same path they took before, though this time much more casually, looking at all the ads on the side of the walls and the various people sitting on the benches, waiting for their layovers to end. The station was busy, yet peaceful as neither of the businessmen were in a hurry.
They made it to the platform to see the train pull into the station. “Wow, perfect timing,” said Robert as he looked out to see the train coming to a stop and the passengers preparing to disembark. “We may get some time to take a nap as well.”
“That would be incredible,” said Dillon as he adjusted his neck a bit. “That brief nap between Nice and here did not do a thing for me. To be able to actually lie down and cover myself up will be a godsend.”
Robert chuckled. “They’ll probably have to prep our quarters, but I’m sure that won’t be much of an issue. We can try and eat in that time.”
“Yeah, and honestly, we’re six hours from Zurich if you count the time to departure and the duration of the trip,” he explained. “If we spend an hour at dinner, I can easily catch four to five hours and be well rested for whatever we stumble into this evening.”
“Quite true,” said Robert as they walked up to the train. He looked to his right to see the baggage men hauling the luggage for the waiting passengers, giving him a sense of relief to see his small bag nestled at the top. The passengers on the train departed quickly, with each individual car releasing their passengers at once. Robert and Dillon walked to the back train where their cabins would be located, and showed the attendants their electronic passes. “I know our quarters are not ready, but is the dining car available?” asked Robert as he looked at the attendant with a hopeful smile.
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “The dining car is still open and will not be shutting down until after we arrive in Switzerland.”
Robert nodded. “Perfect.” Robert and Dillon stepped on board the train and walked to where their quarters would be, looking inside to see them already prepared for their arrival. “They must not have been occupied on the last trip,” said Robert as he stepped in and examined them. The quarters were very simple, made up with a small bed on one side of the room, taking up the entirety of it in length and a chair and desk on the other. They were small and quaint, but incredibly useful for longer trips.
Dillon walked into Robert’s quarters after quickly inspecting his own. “There isn’t much to look at here, and I would really like to get the rest of that gyro taste out of my mouth,” he insinuated, trying to convince Robert to move a bit quicker to the dining car. With a subtle nod, Robert stepped out of the quarters and closed the door, walking with Dillon to the next car so that they could get a much better meal.
They walked in to see only one table available, as several passengers were already aboard and eating. With a quick turn, the dining room attendant came up and approached Dillon and Robert with a warm smile and friendly greeting. “Guten Tag!” she exclaimed in her thick German accent. “Good afternoon and welcome to the dining car. Can I have your names?”
“Robert Acostis and Dillon Flannigan,” answered Robert as he looked out at the dining room again.
She looked at her small list and found their names. “Alright, you both have a credit to eat anything on the menu as well as a complimentary beverage. Can I go ahead and seat you?”
“Please,” said Dillon, almost sounding desperate.
“Alright, but do be warned, the only table I have available will seat six people, and if someone else comes in, by policy, I have to sit them with you.”
Dillon was confused as Robert nodded, having dealt with his on numerous occasions. “That’s fine,” he said, shaking his hand in front of his body to show his indifference. “As often as I am that single person to eat in the dining car, I know how the policy works.”
She smiled as she pointed them toward a rectangular table in the center of the room with Dillon and Robert sitting across from each other on each side of the table. “If someone comes in to dine by themselves, they’ll sit on the other end of the table and we don’t have to have any awkward dinner conversations with them,” explained Robert as they both sat down. “It helps the Eurail because a lot of solo passengers can take advantage of the dining services while not taking up an entire table for themselves.”
“I understand the reason for the policy. I’ve just never seen anyone actually use a policy like this, but then again, I don’t often travel by train,” Dillon responded with a bit of angst. “I really just do not like forced conversation.”
“You don’t have to have it,” said Robert. “They’ll sit at the other end of the table and play on their phone and you will barely notice they are there.”
Dillon smirked as the attendant walked up again, this time bringing a young Indian woman with her. “Here you are ma’am, enjoy your lunch.”
“Thank you,” she replied as she took the seat on the opposite end of Robert, who turned to look at who they were placing at the table with them. Their eyes met, and they immediately smirked at one another, each chuckling while Dillon looked on with an awkward glance. “Mr. Acostis,” she announced as she turned and looked down the table at him. “Fancy running into you here.”
“Dillon, this is Mina Patel, the daughter of Sulagna Patel,” introduced Dillon, whose confused look turned into a look of awe. “This world just became much smaller.”
“Incredibly so,” she said politely.
Robert kept laughing. “You can scoot down and join us if you’d like,” he said, offering her an invitation.
“I thought we were going to finalize everything,” said Dillon under his breath, quiet enough so that only Robert could hear it.
“We’re going to be talking a little bit about our conversation with your mother tomorrow, but we’d love a little input,” continued Robert, turning his head a bit so that he could wink at Dillon.
Mina looked at Dillon who smiled slowly and agreed. “Fine, I’d love to have some company,” she said as she shifted chairs next to Robert. “How was your trip so far? Did you leave out of Nice?”
“Yes,” replied Robert. “We left early this morning from Fontvieille by helicopter and left from Nice to arrive here,” he explained briefly. “And of course from here, we will arrive just outside of Zurich where we will have to take a commuter train there.”
“Oh, well that’s not a terrible plan,” said Mina. “My mother has arranged for a car to pick me up at the terminal to avoid the struggle of that dreaded train. I’ve never had a good experience on it.”
Dillon leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
Mina reached for a small glass of water and sipped on it. “I usually end up getting hit on by strange men,” she replied. “I’m a very private woman, and I tend to keep to myself. Thus, when men I’ve never had any communication with flirt with me, I get a bit uncomfortable.”
“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t flirt with you right now?” Dillon asked playfully, tryi
ng to break the ice a bit.
“I mean, I cannot stop you, but you’ll get nowhere,” she replied.
The three of them laughed as the waiter came up and took their orders and immediately rushed off to the back. “I sincerely hope this is better than that gyro,” pleaded Dillon to himself, regretting the mistake he made in the food court.
“I’m almost positive a can of dog food would have been better than that gyro,” quipped Robert. “I told you that nothing in that place even appeared to look like food.”
“And I should have listened, but I didn’t,” stated Dillon. “It’s a character flaw, but I’m stubborn and like random food.”
“You like having your stomach torn in knots,” continued Robert as Mina looked on with a confused smile.
“Where did you get this gyro?” she asked curiously.
Dillon shook his head. “From the terminal food court.”
“Oh, mistakes were made,” she said in disgust. “I feel bad for you, though if you ate there of your own accord, I don’t pity you.”
Dillion held his head in his hands as he laughed a bit from Mina starting to rib him about his decisions. “I agree, but I usually like Gyros so I gave it a chance.”
“To eat anything from a food court in a train terminal is playing with fire,” she continued to give him a hard time. “I’d probably go get myself checked for tapeworms or other parasites.”
“He can just add it to the list of other things he’s got,” joked Robert, as Dillon started to get defensive.
“Easy now. I wasn’t expecting a two-on-one,” he said as the waiter brought out their drinks.
With their drinks in front of them and the conversation flowing, Dillon took the initiative to start talking about the business and what was next for them. “Okay, so you want me to do what, exactly?”
Robert adjusted in his seat to face Dillon as Mina leaned in to listen. “I need you to be the overarching stabilizing force in this company,” began Robert. “You will be the face of the company to any investor who happens to come in from the outside.”
Dillon nodded. “But you’re the majority owner. Why wouldn’t you do that?”