Post by Roberto da Costa on Aug 28, 2013 19:23:16 GMT -5
Roberto straightened his Armani suit jacket as he strode up to the Maitre'd. He was impeccably dressed in the black Armani suit and pants to which he had added a burnt orange silk dress shirt and a striped tie and cufflinks with the same burnt orange and black color scheme. This afternoon he had an appointment for an interview with someone that he hoped would prove up to the task of the job he was currently hiring for. At the moment it was a simple one time job but that could always change. Being who he was Roberto was often invited to fancy parties and soirees and he was loathe to attend such events unescorted. A beautiful woman on his arm was a status symbol as a playboy, after all. Still, finding the right woman for such work was tedious and irksome. So few people knew proper manners anymore.
"Roberto DaCosta," he said to the man. The reservation list was quickly consulted and the Brazilian was whisked away to his table. As he entered the dining room he noted that a number of other people were also enjoying High Tea in the St. Regis Hotel's Astor Court. Of course, most of them were women, and almost all of them were entirely too old to be sufficient for the job he was preparing to interview for.
Of course, tea parties weren't really Roberto's thing. He much preferred soccer, fast cars, and board rooms. But, this setting would serve as a perfect way to determine what the interviewee had in the way of manners. He had spent the weeks leading up to this New York trip browsing through the websites for several New York based modeling firms and compiling a list of potential candidates to fill the job of arm candy that he was currently hiring for.
On reaching his table, which was out of the way and not close to any of the restaurant's other guests Roberto seated himself at the table which was already properly set with myriad things ranging from water glasses to tiny plates to finger sandwiches to tea cups and a tea pot. Sparing a glance down at his Rolex he noted that there were still fifteen minutes until the meeting was scheduled to begin. The Brazilian was loathe to be late for these sorts of engagements.
With nothing to do but wait for the interviewee to arrive the Brazilian amused himself by fiddling with his phone, surreptitiously, occasionally taking sips from his water glass. The entire time he kept a sharp watch on his Rolex. If she was late she would fail the interview by default. Three of the other women he'd interviewed already had failed for that very reason, one of whom had been walking to the table as he had been leaving the restaurant at precisely three o'clock. Given the nature of the event he needed arm candy for he would settle for nothing less than precision and punctuality.
"Roberto DaCosta," he said to the man. The reservation list was quickly consulted and the Brazilian was whisked away to his table. As he entered the dining room he noted that a number of other people were also enjoying High Tea in the St. Regis Hotel's Astor Court. Of course, most of them were women, and almost all of them were entirely too old to be sufficient for the job he was preparing to interview for.
Of course, tea parties weren't really Roberto's thing. He much preferred soccer, fast cars, and board rooms. But, this setting would serve as a perfect way to determine what the interviewee had in the way of manners. He had spent the weeks leading up to this New York trip browsing through the websites for several New York based modeling firms and compiling a list of potential candidates to fill the job of arm candy that he was currently hiring for.
On reaching his table, which was out of the way and not close to any of the restaurant's other guests Roberto seated himself at the table which was already properly set with myriad things ranging from water glasses to tiny plates to finger sandwiches to tea cups and a tea pot. Sparing a glance down at his Rolex he noted that there were still fifteen minutes until the meeting was scheduled to begin. The Brazilian was loathe to be late for these sorts of engagements.
With nothing to do but wait for the interviewee to arrive the Brazilian amused himself by fiddling with his phone, surreptitiously, occasionally taking sips from his water glass. The entire time he kept a sharp watch on his Rolex. If she was late she would fail the interview by default. Three of the other women he'd interviewed already had failed for that very reason, one of whom had been walking to the table as he had been leaving the restaurant at precisely three o'clock. Given the nature of the event he needed arm candy for he would settle for nothing less than precision and punctuality.
