Chapter 49: Being a gentleman

"Great!"

Tom muttered as he checked the time on the dashboard as he turned into the entrance of The Langford. It was 1:57 PM.

He eased the Mercedes into the short queue, waited for the valet, and stepped out exactly as the clock shifted to 2:00. The navy three-piece suit settled cleanly across his shoulders, all over his physique. He adjusted his cuffs once, took a steady breath, and walked slowly toward the entrance.

At 2:05 PM he pushed through the glass doors into the reception area.

"Here we go." He mumbled under his breath, silently waiting for the follow up missions to drop. He still had no idea what he was doing at Langford where wealthy people dined, wined and took pictures.

The lobby of The Langford was quiet luxury - dark marble floors, muted gold lighting, the low murmur of elegant conversation. Soft piano music drifted from somewhere near the far lounge. Tom paused just inside the doors, letting his eyes move across the space the way, taking in every little detail.

That was when he noticed the tension near one of the low tables by the windows.

A man in a charcoal suit stood beside the table. His posture was straight, shoulders controlled, but there was a tightness in the way he held his glass. A server stood across from him with a bottle in his hand. The server’s facial expression was tight.

Their voices were not raised, but the vibe they gave off, radiating off their body expression made the air over them feel suffocating. A few guests nearby had already stopped mid-conversation. One woman angled her phone slightly downward, recording without making it obvious.

Tom moved closer without realizing it at first, trying to eavesdrop.

"I requested the 2015 Château Meyney," the man in the charcoal suit said. His voice was level, refined, and cold.

"This is not it."

The server inclined his head. "Sir, this is the bottle that was brought up for your table. I opened it in your presence."

"Then there has been a mistake in the cellar." The man’s gaze did not rise to the server’s face. He looked at the wine itself, as if it had personally disappointed him. "The 2015 has a deeper cassis note and a firmer structure. This is brighter, thinner, and lacks the finish. I would not have asked for it if I wanted something ordinary."

A quiet ripple moved through the people nearby. Someone murmured the word "Senator." Another guest leaned toward their companion and whispered behind a hand.

Tom felt the System activate.

[Follow-up mission issued.]

```

[FOLLOW-UP MISSION]

Use your Wine Appreciation knowledge to intervene.

Help the man save face and resolve the situation cleanly.

[REWARD: +10 Authority | $10,000]

[PENALTY: -10 Authority]

[TIME LIMIT: 15 seconds]

```

"Oh, this is it." Tom said and breathed in deeply. He straightened his shoulders then put his hands in his pockets, maintaining the gait that he used to see and admire on the gentlemen who frequented the bar he worked at.

The countdown began.

Tom did not rush. He walked forward at a measured pace and stopped a polite distance from the table, close enough to be included, not close enough to intrude.

"Excuse me, may I?" he asked calmly.

Both men turned. The server looked relieved at the interruption. The man in the charcoal suit glanced at Tom, studying him with the cool assessment of someone accustomed to deciding whether another person was worth his time. After a brief pause, seeing how he dressed, he gave a short nod.

Tom stepped closer, accepted the glass, and held it toward the light first. He examined the color, then brought it to his nose and took in the aroma without hurry. Finally he tasted it, let it rest on his palate, and set the glass down with quiet certainty.

"It’s the 2018," he announced with certainty. "Same estate, different year. The 2015 carries more depth in the mid-palate and a longer, drier finish. This one opens more quickly and has a lighter frame. They’re related, but they’re not the same wine."

The server’s lips parted in shame. He blinked then lowered his head in remorse. The man’s eyes sharpened with recognition rather than offense. The distinction had been named cleanly, without drama, and in a language that matched the setting.

Then he looked at the server once more.

"Bring the correct bottle. And ensure the cellar double-checks future requests." he said in a gentle tone but Tom could read that the man was angry.

And Tom wondered why the man wasn’t showing his annoyance over the situation when anybody in that situation would be expected to harbor some level anger for it.

Meanwhile, the server blinked. He had been expecting some level of chastising but that apparently didn’t come.

"Yes, Senator. At once. My apologies, sir." the server said solemnly, took the bottle and retreated. The low attention that had gathered around the table began to dissolve. Phones lowered and conversation gradually resumed.

The man turned fully toward Tom and extended his hand.

"Adrian Cole." he introduced himself.

Tom shook it and as he did, he noticed that the grip was firm, controlled and evaluative.

"Thomas Harlow or simply Tom."

Adrian’s gaze moved briefly over Tom’s suit, his posture, the ease with which he had handled the interruption. A polished, public smile touched his mouth - the kind used for cameras and necessary courtesies.

"You have a precise palate," he said. "Most people in that situation either stay silent or pretend competence they don’t have. You did neither."

Tom inclined his head slightly. "It seemed better to be accurate than polite for the sake of it."

Before Adrian could reply, the sound of approaching footsteps and light female voices carried across the lobby.

Sienna and Stella were walking in from the main corridor.

Sienna moved with her usual composure, speaking quietly to an assistant while checking something on a tablet. Stella walked beside her in a cream tailored outfit, her posture elegant, expression already shifted into the calm focus she wore for work. Neither of them had looked toward the lounge section yet.

Then Stella’s gaze lifted and landed on Tom.

Her steps slowed and her lips parted.

"What is he doing here?" Stella wondered inwardly.

Sienna followed her line of sight a second later. The professional mask on her face instantly broke, her jaw dropping, as she registered Tom standing there in the tailored, luxury navy suit, speaking with Senator Adrian Cole as if he belonged in the room.

"Is that Tom?" Sienna couldn’t help but wondered inwardly.