Time: 6pm
Outfit

The work was done and the waiting game had started. Advertisements in the papers were out in mass so as to alert the public of the coming album. The success of the album lay in the hands of the advertising company and the fans. She hated how much her own success was out of her control. Sure she could put her heart and soul into her work, slave hour after hour on the lyrics and the chords, but after all was said and done it was the response of her fans that counted for her success and heaven forbid failure. The days were counting down to the release in mid-October. She was to complete a few interviews, in particular the well known magazine Witch Weekly in hopes of striking up interest and so as not to leave the public eye for too long. Elisabeth definitely had not left the public eye though, having done photoshoots and modelling as well as a few shoes in the time between her albums. Great masterpieces took time, or so she told the masses in the interviews or fan mail. Elisabeth cared too much about her work to doing things without the passion it deserved. She could not be that spontaneous and not think things out completely.

As strong minded as Elisabeth was and as surprisingly patient as she was known to be, she hated to wait for the release of her album. So much pent up pressure was hanging over her and it often drove her mad. It was in these weeks her music writing struggled the most, so she resorted to playing old classics on the piano she knew well from her childhood. She sung her old songs, or songs of others in the shower just to keep the music flowing even if new words failed her. Elisabeth was too logical and clearheaded, and more importantly too proud, to admit that she was nervous.

It was slowly becoming routine this week to find herself at Signature, sitting at a table alone with a glass of wine. She would sit watching those around her in hopes the environment would keep her calm and busy. It was the ritual of the album release, but the location often changed. Since Signature’s opening Elisabeth found solace among the walls, it was exactly the sort of establishment she felt comfortable in as well as it worthy of her famous presences. Dressed casually in neutral colours she hoped she did not stick out like a sore thumb. She hated it when she attracted attention, especially when she wanted nothing but to be alone.

Elisabeth delicately checked her watch and looked back to the white wine in her glass. The night was still young and she supposed she could have another. The wine she was drinking was of course some of the most expensive that could be found. Elisabeth had the money so why not spoil herself. As she caught herself looking at her watch again she sighed heavily, where was her food? She glanced out the magical windows instead of looking to her watch again. She hated waiting, and waiting on service was no exception.

Bringing the delicate wine glass to her lips she sipped in the liquid letting it cross the palate of her tongue. She closed her eyes to full use her sense of taste and of course smell as the aroma of the glass wafted upwards. Wine was truly a taste and olfactory drink. She signalled for a waiter, “Another glass of wine please,” she said with a clear tone and her eyes glaring at him as if he were to be at fault for her meal taking so long. Elisabeth was not a woman used to being kept waiting, fame often hurried things up. She thought so highly of Signature and if it was employing stupid people, heaven forbid mudbloods then maybe this place was not for her any longer.

One of the bar staff came to find Finn out in the kitchens to tell him that the famous jazz songstress, Elisabeth Pascal was - once again - supping on a glass of expensive wine at a table for one. It had seemed like she had been in quite a lot this week, always on her own, always drinking the same wine and always ordering the same meal. Finn nodded, picked up her bowl of pumpkin soup and made his way out from the kitchens.

He made his way to her table and smiled. "Sorry for your wait, Miss Pascal." he said as he placed the bowl down in front of her. "Can I get you some more wine, or perhaps a glass of water?" The first couple of nights she had been to the restaurant to eat, Finn hadn't wanted to disturb her quiet time, so had let her be. But after the third night he had decided to introduce himself. Her cousin was good friends with his sister, afterall, so he should at least make the effort to speak to the woman as though she was a normal human being.

Elisabeth had begun to frequent the establishment for its atmosphere and food. She also found that she was not approached by a mob of fans here, as if she was protected some how. She often found at other places with a different sort of vibe she was surrounded by people chatting her ear off, asking for autographs and if they could give her a demo. More often than not she wished to tell the lot to shove off, but that is no way for a celebrity to treat her fans. Here she was able to sit in peace, well the peace that was without the fans. She continued to glance out the enchanted windows when the owner of the establishment appeared at her table.

“Not a problem.” They wait had not been to excruciatingly long at least. She looked at the bowl before her, the usual order of the delicious soup. This had to be her favourite place to eat usually she struggled away at home to make a meal, cooking spells not her best. So this was probably why she frequented restaurants so much. “Perhaps a glass of wine.” She paused and looked at the empty seat maybe she should be polite. “And maybe your company if you want.”

“Perhaps a glass of wine.”

"Of course." Finn immediately waved over one of the waiters who brought with him a bottle of wine wrapped in a brilliant white towel. The waiter poured the wine into a fresh glass and offered it to Finn, who proceeded to set it down on the table in front of her. The waiter made himself scarce quickly, not wanting to be caught gawping at the lady.

“And maybe your company if you want.”

Finn blinked. Well that was unexpected. He looked around, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. "Ah..." It wasn't too busy - his staff could cope without him, he hoped. "That's very kind of you. Thank you." He motioned to the waiter again as he sat himself down opposite Elisabeth. "A glass of water, please." The young waiter nodded fervently and almost tripped over his own feet on his way back to the kitchen.

"You must excuse Jonathan. He hasn't worked for me long, and I think he may be a little starstruck." He offered her a smile. Flattery, that was what these celebrities wanted, wasn't it? Not that what he said hadn't been the truth. For days, the young waiter had spoke of nothing but his undying devotion to Elisabeth Pascal and her music. He very nearly fainted every time he saw her come i, which highly amused Finn.