The Last Heir

8.Boutique

"Yes, We must research to locate your father's inheritance for you. I heard they locked it away so that no one but you could find it. So we are going to need help. Eat up now! That is for later," Mr Harry Rice said.

The server brought two plates of something creamy and cheesy, with a soft and slightly chewy texture from the pasta. They served it along with vegetables, bread, and meat.

Though I was too hungry, I waited to understand what cheesy and creamy food they brought for us to eat, and I stared at it strangely.

Mr Harry Rice understood this, and so he smiled again even after taking two or three bites of his food. "You don't like macaroni and cheese?" he asked softly, almost calling on the server to change the food.

But who does not like macaroni and cheese? I have heard rumors about it from the others in the street who have snuck into some restaurant's kitchen and stolen macaroni and cheese.

They said it was such a delicious meal that you would almost bite your fingers if care was not taken, and at this moment, when I knew it was the same macaroni and cheese right in front of me, I completely devoured it.

"Hey, slow down, you are eating too fast."

I shoved the food in my mouth with no regard for cleanliness or etiquette. On the street, was there even such a thing as etiquette? As I ate, I took large bites and chewed quickly, barely pausing between bites.

And because of this rapid eating, I had food smeared all over my face and hands, with stains on my cheeks and chin, and even a tattered, dirty shirt.

"When was the last time you ate?"

I saw the shock on Mr Harry's face, but if he understood that a hungry person is a person that would care less about eating cultures and satisfying his stomach only, he would not be so shocked.

Before he was done with his food, I had already finished mine and the bread and the vegetables and the meat.

I felt myself bursting at the seams and belched immediately. This was so loud that the people in the restaurant turned to look in our direction.

I could sense he did not like the attention I had called upon us, and immediately, even without finishing his food, he rose to his feet. "Let's go," he said, and I stood upright behind him.

Mr Harry Rice left some dollars on the table. "But what have we eaten to cost that much? Perhaps I can help him retrieve some; maybe he overestimated the expenses."

"Get over here!" Mr Harry Rice's voice interrupted my thought, and immediately I followed him.

Not only did I look dirty, but I also looked messy with my food-stained cheeks, jaw, and hands. And Mr Harry Rice did not allow me to open his car door.

"Get in!" He instructed as he opened the door for me by himself. "Touch nothing," he said.

"See this," he said as he turned to look at me, who was in the back seat.

Only that he did not look at me. He looked at the back window and took a speedy reverse. I wondered why he always reversed all his drives quickly or if that was the normal speed of his car because even at this moment he drove too fast, and I prayed that my life would be preserved.

"We are here!" He said this while turning to face me and smiling.

"We are here?" "Where?" I wondered. "Is it another restaurant?" I asked. But there was no enticing aroma. There was not even any smell at all.

Obeying Mr. Harry Rice's instructions, I did not lift the lever but only waited for him to come and open his door, which he did in no time.

"Do you like it?" he asked, pointing to the inscription that read "Chic Threads Boutique." The grin on my face stretched from one ear to the other, conveying a sense of immense joy and contentment.

The last time I wore good clothes was when I ran from the church and found myself on the street. Other boys approached me and tore my clothes, and they even took my wristwatch. Finally having someone ready to buy me new clothes was such a blessing to me.

"Let's go in," Mr. Harry Rice said. At that moment, he saw a tear drop from my eye. It was not enough that he fed me; he took me to a store to change out of my dirty clothes. This was a kindness I would never forget in my entire life.

"How can I repay you, sir?" I asked as I followed him towards the inside of the boutique. However, he did not say a word in response. He only smiled and pushed the door, and we stepped into the boutique.

As we stepped into the boutique, I felt like I was teleported to another world. The interior design created an intimate and visually pleasing space. The walls were painted in soft, muted tones, and sculptures and paintings added to the ambiance.

I saw that the store was arranged into different sections, with clothing lines and accessories displayed on racks. The staff welcomed us and were friendly, even towards me, who was still in rags.

"Come here, friend. I will help you find something that fits your body," she said with a smile as she held my hand and took me to another section. I wondered if she didn't mind the stains on my hands.