The Secret Life of a Romance Novelist

chapter four

"Don't you have some sort of shoot?" Ingrid asked, clad in a too tight black tee shirt, Liling's black skirt, black nylons, and black heels. She teetered at best, tripped at worst.

"No. I'm here to make sure you do what you're supposed to," Liling replied, "Now hurry up, I want some coffee."

It was early Thursday morning and Ingrid stumbled into work, Liling in tow.

"Why hello there," Jarod cooed, "What can I get started for a beautiful woman such as yourself?"

"Save it, bro, I play for the other team," Liling replied, "But I will take an Americano."

"Coming right up!" Jarod cheered, not deterred in the slightest.

Hannah was eyeing Ingrid, "What are you wearing?"

"It doesn't violate dress code," Ingrid snapped, "I checked, like three times."

"Okay, whatever, I was just trying to make small talk," Hannah rolled her eyes.

Ingrid worked the cash register for the first half hour, before moving out from behind the counter as eight forty-five got closer. Liling nodded her approval, sipping her coffee.

The butterflies in Ingrid's stomach fluttered faster it was more like she had a tornado in her stomach, twisting up a storm. She was crazy, he didn't like her like that. She was just his barista for goodness sakes! She was stupid, this was a stupid idea.

But then, it was too late.

Mr. Roberts walked it, eight forty-five, and looked towards the counter. Not seeing her (Ingrid was ducked near the cream and sugar island) his brow furrowed and he scowled.

Liling looked from Ingrid to Mr. Roberts and back. She sent Ingrid quick darting glances saying, Is this the guy?

Ingrid nodded. Then managed to dump the sugar packets on the floor.

"Oh gosh!" she stooped to pick them up.

"Miss Ingrid?" the melodious voice asked from above.

She looked up, "oh hi Mr. Roberts, I just, um, dropped the sugar."

"I can see that."

"Yeah, um, yeah."

Glancing past Mr. Roberts, Ingrid could see Liling watching them through her hands. Oh yes, this wasn't going very well.

"Are you... having a good morning?" Ingrid tired.

"Yes, yes, and you?" he replied.

"Yep, it's going well," she nodded and wiped the counter.

"Oh, that's good,"

"Um, yeah I guess."

"Are you not working the register this morning?" he asked

"Um no, not right now, maybe a little later," Ingrid shrugged.

"Oh," Mr. Roberts shuffled, "Well, I'm going to go order."

"Okay, have a nice day!" Ingrid smiled, awkwardly.

"Thank you, you as well," he half ducked his head as he backed away, and walked towards the counter.

"Thanks," Ingrid mumbled.

Ingrid's gaze followed him up to the counter, where he barked his order at a very nervous looking Jarod. Her chest felt tight and her feet hurt.

Mr. Roberts impatiently waited for a frantic Jarod to make his coffee before departing, there was a nod in Ingrid's direction as he left.

Ingrid sighed.

"What's wrong with you?" Hannah snapped, "Why didn't you wait on Mr. Roberts? He was a total troll and now Jarod's in a tizzy."

"I'll wait on him tomorrow, Hannah, don't worry," Ingrid mumbled as Liling joined them.

"You are a nerd," she said, handing Ingrid a pair of tennis shoes, "But these are your reward"

"Who are you? Iggy, who is this?" Hannah demanded.

"Liling, Ingrid's personal assistant," the black haired girl said, "Oh and you're Hannah! I've heard so much about you!"

Hannah looked suspicious, "Good things, I hope."

"You do hope," Liling said cryptically, "Well, ta! I've got an interview with Teen Vogue then lunch with Klaire and Taylor!"

"see you later," Ingrid waved, "Say hello to Taylor for me."

"Will do!" Liling called as she left.

"No seriously, who was that?" Hannah probed.

Ingrid sighed in response, her mind elsewhere. Was she making a huge mistake?

As the date of their impending nuptials drew closer, Isabelle tried to spend as much time away from Duke Rumford as possible. Her face burned every time she saw him, her pulse raced.

"It's not that bad, Miss," Mary Beth comment, "To be attracted to your fiance."

"I am not attracted to him," moaned Isabelle, "What on earth would possess you to think that?"

"You blush whenever he's around, you stammer whenever he speaks to you, and," Mary Beth grinned mischievously, "you moan his name when you think everyone is asleep."

"Mary Beth!" Isabelle astonished, "How vulgar!"

"Well it's the truth!" Mary Beth replied, a proud hint in her tone, "I heard you when I was fetching a glass of warm milk for the little Mr. Edward."

"Hmph," Isabelle made no comment on her younger brother's sleeping habits.

"Shall we get you ready for dinner, Miss? I have it on good authority that Duke Rumford hopes to see you," Mary Beth crossed the room, getting a dress from the armor.

"He will just have to cope with the disappointment then," Isabelle replied haughtily, "I know I have."

"For all of our sakes," Mary Beth muttered, "I hope the Duke's coping is a great deal quieter."

Ingrid was more nervous than a vegan in a hot dog factory. And it didn't help that Liling was there- with pizza- rehashing every movement and vocal inflection of the morning.

"He was definitely checking you out," Liling said, between slices, "And he's a total silver fox, not bad for a first crush."

"He's not my first crush," Ingrid moaned, "But he probably thinks I'm a freak."

"He might have thought you were acting funny, but not a freak," Liling pointed a piece of pizza at Ingrid, "Plus he was being awkward too, he most likely is thinking about that."

Ingrid ate some pizza and thought about this. He had been kinda awkward- just a little- but she'd assumed it was because she was a weirdo. It was cute when he was flustered. After a few moments of silence she said, "He's never going to call me."

"You're right," Liling nodded before leaning over and grabbing Ingrid's shoulders, shaking her slightly, "He'll never call you unless you give him your number!"

The spry model flopped back onto the couch, "The worst that will happen is that he won't call, which is exactly what he's doing now."

Ingrid bit her lip, "You're right."

"I usually am. Now, do you want to see this great chocolate chip cookie recipe Taylor gave me at lunch? I don't bake, you know, but I told her my friend Iggy not-Azela would love it."