Iris tugged the lapels of her jacket tighter, unconsciously rubbing the crease to sharpen it as she glanced around the diner. She didn't understand why they had to host parties where they couldn't even field their own waiters and food, but her father told her that that was why she would never do as well in the business as he did. "Free advertising and a few hours rent? What's not to like?" he'd said. Well, it was the standing around in formal attire, merely being present for a meeting or ceremony or... whatever this thing was tonight, that was not to like. She honestly could not care less.
But, her duties were what they were, and as little as she liked to think about it, she needed the money from her allowance, and that money now constrained her to such boring tasks as these. "Character building" tasks, apparently, and "getting your face out there," though personally she would have preferred to keep her face in.
Her father would hear nothing of it, though. Her whole life was already planned for her, from the very moment that she was born, or maybe after that, when her parents found out that they would be unable to produce more heirs. Her destiny was to go to college, get straight As, find an equally-intelligent young man, marry him, and then come back to take over the shop for her father.
Someone thrust something into her hand, and startled Iris from her thoughts, bringing her back into the bright scene of gamers thronging about their diner, waiting anxiously for the door prize drawing. She stared at her hand before closing it around the cup and nodding at the steward. A discount... they'd have to apply a discount to the rent if the customer would also hire on their wait staff. It irked her to have strangers serving in her diner. She now had one of those dump clear plastic cups, the sort that were designed both for holding liquid and for holding cookies or whatever, and so were good at neither, and it was filled about halfway with a red punch.
One thing that her father had managed to pass onto her, partly through genetics (if such a thing were possible) and partly through a large variety of foods, was an understanding and appreciation of good food and drink. This, she could tell just by sniffing it, was not going to be good drink. It smelled cheap, with too strong a fragrance: the sort of drink that would not go well with anything but the blandest of foods. Still, she took a small sip into her mouth, swishing it around her mouth once before actually drinking it. Well, whatever its faults, she could feel the rasp and burn of a strong alcohol, and that she could at least appreciate. Sure, a small cup of the stuff wasn't going to have any noticeable effect on her mass, but the principle of the matter was the important part. If she could have this little rebellion on this most boring of assignments, she was going to have it!
