My Dearest Sofia (Completed)

Chapter 1

Sofia brushed her hair away from her face as she tried her best to wipe herself dry. She just entered the fancy restaurant named Elliot's, soaking wet because of the unexpected downpour. It did not help her confidence level at all when the maitre’ d gave her a once over, made a snorting sound of disapproval and then ignored her completely.

Sofia did not mind. She was used to such looks of disdain from people who thought they were better just because they had more money or because they worked at some fancy restaurant. 

She turned to check her reflection on the huge gilded mirror that framed the entrance and sighed. She looked like a drowned cat. With her cheeks flaming, she marched up to the snooty head waiter and inquired about the bathroom. Again, he looked like he wanted to shoo her away but to her surprise, he mumbled the directions towards the women's powder room.

Sofia gave him a soft smile and she ducked inside, clutching her wet coat closer to her body then headed towards the restroom. Once inside, she marveled at the decadence of the powder room. 

There were three huge mirrors with gold borders on it. The sink looked like it would cost a month's worth of groceries and clothes. There were plush settees and pouffy stools with lovely floral prints on them. The smell of the room itself was worth a couple of thousand bucks.

With a dreamy sigh she locked herself inside a cubicle while wondering how it would be like to live with such luxury. Then, she shed off her coat and frowned. Here she was dreaming of luxuries she could never afford in her lifetime instead of addressing the problem of her wet clothes. 

She had come to Elliot's to meet a possible employer. She was referred by one of her mother's colleagues at work. Sofia smiled as she thought of her mother, Emma Wright. 

She was doing well with her therapy and so far, the bills were getting paid on time. However, with some calculations, Sofia found out that her current job as a waitress at Silver Diner was not going to help when the next wave of bills came around.

She could not let her father do all the hard work. With a slight pang in her heart, she thought about what happened a month and a half ago when all her best laid plans shattered along with her mom's accident. 

NYU seemed like a ship, sailing farther and farther towards the horizon almost disappearing off the edge of the world. But, she was determined to stick to her commitment to this family. There was nothing to be gained by sulking or regretting things. There was only the future of possibilities to look forward to.

Her mother was doing well but the therapy she needed would have to stretch to another couple of months. Then, there was also the few unsettled bills at the doctor's office and the hospital. Really, if bills were gold, the Wrights would be living large! 

The sound of women chattering as they entered the powder room broke Sofia's musing and she began taking care of the task at hand. She ran her fingers down her long black hair, trying to untangle the tendrils. 

She knew she had to use the hand dryer if she wanted to give her hair the extra oomph but seeing as her appointment would commence in 2 minutes, she was just going to let it fall limply down her back and framing her white, almost porcelain-like alabaster skin.

She emerged from the cubicle and looked in the mirror. She blinked and was glad she invested in a good mascara product. The rain had not even smudged it. Forest green eyes stared back at her, the soft yellow light of the room making the shade even darker. 

She touched her soft, full pink lips and then pinched her cheeks for color. There was nothing else to do actually, she would rather make a good impression of being prompt than be late because she was too vain. 

If the employer would rather have somebody who looked like a movie star or acted like some rich, socialite then she would gracefully leave the table and exit with dignity. 

Status did not dictate principles and if you had principles, you were already above most of the status quo. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, money still makes the world go round!

Feeling less self conscious, Sofia emerged from the room soothing her mini-dress down. She was wearing a nice, soft-yellow A-line cut, sleeveless dress that fell modestly just a couple of centimeters above her knees with a nice wide neckline. 

She adjusted the strap of her heels and hooked her coat on her right arm. She did not have any fancy jewelry except for the necklace with quill pendant that her mother gave her for her sixteenth birthday. 

Confidence is key, Sofia! You can do this! Do it for your family! 

She mentally prepped herself and instantly started feeling better. Pinching her cheeks again for color, she walked over to the counter where they took your coat and handed hers. She could not help but notice how the maitre' d was now eyeing her with renewed interest.

She smiled at him and to her surprise, he gave her a small nod of approval and then turned back to the door to greet a batch of tourists. Sofia turned to look at the huge grandfather clock near the small steps that lead to the main dining hall of the restaurant. She had a minute to go look for a guy named Jefferson Elliot.

Sofia walked up to the three steps before her and then stopped short. The hall was huge with around 15 or so tables. The ceiling was littered with chandeliers and a great depiction of what looked like Monet's Water Lilies and Footsteps. 

For a moment, she was lost in the wonder of it all. It was her first time to really set foot in such a fancy restaurant.

“Ahem."

She blinked and turned around to see the maitre'd standing beside her. He was probably around his early 30's and had this stiff, aristocratic bearing about him. 

He gave her another once over and she knew her hair was a mess. If she did not dry it properly, the edges tend to curl around her face which her mother thought made her extra pretty but really, it just annoyed Sofia.

"I will not be so crass as to blatantly tell you what I'm thinking right now but you, my dear lady, are lost.”

Sofia felt herself blush, sheepishly she nodded. "I know it must look like I'm sorely out of place, sir. But truly, I cannot help but marvel at the very good depiction of Claude Monet's paintings on your ceiling. I apologize if I'm sticking out like a sore thumb but as soon as I find the person I'm meeting in this fancy restaurant, I will be off.”

The maitre'd looked at her for a moment then nodded. "I'm Claude and in spite of the rude thoughts I have been having a while ago when you sauntered into my restaurant all wet, I cannot continue to look with such disdain on somebody who obviously appreciates the beauty of a Monet piece- even if it is just a good depiction.”

Oh. Sofia's face broke into a happy grin. "Well, Sir Claude- in spite of the crude expletives that I want to throw at you the moment I saw you giving me a snooty once over, I will endeavor to forget them because one cannot really base a person's character on first impressions.”

"Indeed- miss?”

"Sofia Wright.”

"Ah- I see.” He replied, still not smiling. But Sofia knew Claude had changed his opinion of her. "You are Mr. Elliot's four o'clock appointment. If you had blurted this out my dear, Sofia, the moment you came. I would have lead you straight to him.”

"Even if I looked like a cat which almost drowned?" Sofia retorted with a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Of course, not! I would have personally seen to it that you got to use the employee's lounge where there are reliable blow driers, some hair paraphernalia and powder which would have helped your sorry state.”

Sofia tried to hide the pang of hurt and turned away. What Claude said next actually renewed her confidence.

"But, I see you have a natural grace and beauty to look spectacular despite previous said comment on your appearance, I can say I don't have any qualms taking you to see Mr. Elliot right now." 

"Why, is that a compliment I hear from you sir?" 

She asked feeling giddy and batting her eyelashes at the elder man. This time the stiff, strict looking maitre'd actually broke into a small smile.

"Darling, if i were not gay and maybe a few years younger, I would boldly shower you with compliments. However, I am perfectly happy and content with my partner in life so I'm afraid I must break your fragile heart. Come, I have to take you to Mr. Elliot. I don't like to keep him waiting.”

Before Claude could move forward, Sofia tentatively touched his arm to stop him. "Thank you, sir.”

"Think none of it, Sofia. I rarely see young women here with your wit and beauty. I believe I shall endeavor myself to be a friend to you, should you manage to stumble in our restaurant again. Now really, girl- you are late for your appointment. Come!”

Sofia took a deep breath, smiled her best smile and proceeded to follow Claude into the extravagantly decorated dining hall. She tried her best not to gape at the elegantly dressed customers or the really fine china and utensils on the elegantly set tables. Instead, she concentrated on burning a hole at the back of Claude's jacket with her stare. She did not want to get lost in a maze of tables.

"Sir Elliot, I have brought your four o'clock appointment to you. I apologize for the slight delay as we can hear the unexpected rain pounding on our nice french windows.”

Jefferson Elliot was reading the papers when he heard the maitre'd of his restaurant speak. He tried his best not to chuckle at Claude's formality and lowered the newspaper enough for his eyes to see who was standing in front of his usual table.

She was standing a little behind Claude, as if using him as protection to hide whatever insecurity she was battling with. Jefferson lowered the papers a little bit more and scrutinized the young, breathtakingly beautiful girl standing before him. 

He almost could see how young men would react (and even some older ones) when they see this girl in better straits. 

He stopped ogling her when Claude cleared his throat. 

That rascal!  He thought, preventing another chuckle from escaping his lips. 

At the age of sixty, Jefferson has had his share of really beautiful, well-refined women from all over the world. He should be used to seeing such grace and natural elegance from the eighteen-year old girl standing before him. But there was something about her that made him feel like there was more to her beauty than skin deep.

"It is no problem, Claude. I understand how a little rain can be such a nuisance. What's your name?”

Sofia swallowed her nervousness. From the way Claude spoke to how Jeffersion Elliot addressed him, these two men were definitely old souls. She thought that they sounded like the aristocrats she often read about in Judith McNaught novels and Julie Garwood. She detected a hint of an accent in the elder man's tone.

"S-Sof- Oh, my name is Sofia Wright, sir.”

She managed to remember her manners. She moved forward and extended her hand to the old man. 

He took it and was glad that the young lady had a firm grip. This told him that she might be dainty and a bit insecure on the outside but inside, she had guts.

"May I relay, Sir Elliot, that this young lady here was in complete awe of our establishment's ceiling. Apparently, she has a thing for Monet.”

 And with a wink directed at her, Sofia watched as Claude excused himself from the table and went back to man his post. 

Jefferson's eyes lit up and he felt something stir inside his heart. 

Hope. 

So, there is more than meets the eye to this young lady. He motioned for her to sit down and as she composed herself, he asked why she liked Monet's painting.

"Well, to tell you frankly sir, I think his paintings teach us a valuable lesson in life." 

"And what is that, my dear?”

"To look past the ugliness of anything that we encounter or experience. You see, I always aspire to look at the bright side of every dire situation. Surely you will agree with me when I say that just because one's life is tarnished by tragedy or if a young woman walks into the restaurant, soaking wet and looking like a fop- one should quickly assume that she is bitter at the world or that she is nothing but a poor commoner with no sense of propriety?”

This time Jefferson Elliot did not hold back a laugh. It echoed through the whole dining room causing some patrons to look away from their stiff and formal meals. He did not care. He owned the damn place and he could very well do as he pleased in it.

He smiled at the marvelous young lady in front of him and he was glad to find her beaming as well. The smile that lit her whole face and made her green eyes look like sparkling jades made Elliot's heart swell with more hope. 

Yes, there was more to Ms. Sofia Wright than just natural charm and beauty. She would be perfect for the job.