Seen And Not Seen (The Veil Book 1) Read Free Page A

her own, eyes narrowing quizzically. Something about that guy. Time to intercede.
    “Hey, Mr. Americano, take a single seat. We’re busy.”
    The patron is delighted. “Well, come on then.”
    Robert’s demeanor wobbles again, “Look—”
    “Are you going to shift your ass or what?
    Out of nowhere Toor steps in, eyes locked on the patron. “Have we got a problem here, sir?”
    Before the patron can get a word out Landelle confronts him, discretely revealing an official badge. The patron looks Toor and Landelle over and decides that the intimidating front is likely a façade for something quite different altogether and not conducive to his day. He backs down, shuffling his group away.
    Toor and Landelle seat themselves at Robert’s table. More people are looking their way, some whispering among themselves. The news channel has rolled on again, the sound drowned out by the hubbub of the coffee shop. It’s an interview with Senator Blake, the caption reading ‘Afrika Project—Senate Hearings.’
    Landelle relaxes into her chair and eyes up Robert as he continues to stare into his coffee.
    “And how are you today, Bob?”
    This particular person pushing that particular button is enough for a more prolonged awakening for Robert, his nodding acknowledgment of what would have been needed to bring the three of them together at this moment manifesting in the glimmer of a cynical grin.
    “I would imagine that you had to commit several indictable offences to join me for coffee this morning, Debs.”
    Landelle leans in close to him to make her point, “Just be thankful it’s me and not the F.B.I.”
    “Speaking of which,” says Toor, “We need to leave. Now.”
    Robert shifts his gaze to the stern Toor. “I’m minded to finish my coffee, Shaz. Cost me twenty dollars. That’s nearly five pounds in real money.”
    This serves to only exasperate the businesslike Toor, but Landelle has another way to play this game. “Sure about that, Bob?” gesturing at all about them, “Sure you want to stay here?”
    Robert follows her gaze, his newly acquired confident demeanor ebbing away again, the crushing shyness returning. The coffee shop falls silent. Everyone stares at him. It is with some dismay that he observes a black town car pull up outside.
    Resigned to his situation he gets up and nonchalantly makes his way to the serving counter, past the group of patrons from earlier who now track him with agape mouths. He arrives before the waitress who served him. It’s all she can do to stare back wide-eyed with astonishment. She knows who he is, just as everyone else does, and can’t imagine that there’s a living soul the world over who does not. This man, who had been hidden in plain sight, now revealed from under a cloak in invisibility not of his own making, but which has been seen to dog him these recent times.
    Robert sets his coffee mug on the counter, “I’d like this to go, please.”
    With a robotic action she pours the coffee into a take-out cup, a slight shake to her hand. As she does so the rolling news channel, silent for a brief transition, moves onto a new story, the anchor woman talking over a picture of a man’s clean shaven face. Robert’s face.
    “So where is he? Billionaire Robert Cantor has now eluded all attempts by Senator Blake to serve him with a subpoena for ten days, despite the astonishing move by the Senator of using the F.B.I.”
    A sound bite from the hawkish Senator, “In short we aren’t going to stand for it. Robert Cantor will be brought to book.”
    The waitress’s eyes flick to the screen and back to Robert, shoving the take-out cup forward as the anchor woman continues on, “Cantor’s recent erratic behavior has caused some to question his state of mind.”
    He deftly scoops up the cup and whirls around to face the coffee shop.
    Dozens of camera phones appear.
    A frenzy of shaky video and frozen moments capture Robert’s exit from the coffee shop, flanked by Toor and Landelle