"You're early." Vincent's voice cuts through the soft music playing in the restaurant. He walks up to you and outstretches his hand to you; from how stiff he is, you can tell he's doing this to make good rapport more than anything.

Being in dire need of a job, the job posting you saw in the magazine was the miracle you had been hoping for. Sure, you wouldn't consider yourself high-class material, but how hard could it be to serve rich people their food? Now here you were, getting what you hoped would be one of many early starts. The restaurant is empty except for the quiet bustle from the kitchen only a few feet away where supplies for the day are being prepared.

"I assume you don't need much introduction considering your resume?" Vincent says as he crosses his arms against his chest, a look of disinterest on his face you were starting to realize was a signature thing for him.