Sunday, June 2nd
A horn blares as I run across the street and I flip whoever it was off even though it's my fault.
Damn it. Out of all the days to be running late...
I struggle to pull my hair up and once I've managed to tame my long brown hair, I pull my necklace from my bag and glance at my watch.
I am going to be in so much shit with Paul. He's the manager at this "high end" restaurant I work at. To be honest, it's kind of a fucking joke. The food isn't that great and the people who eat it are overly egotistical business men who have meetings on a Sunday to avoid the wife and kids at home. The only reason I put up with all of this bullshit is because it pays for college.
Another horn honks at me and I almost wish the car would just hit me so I could get out of going to work. Being a waitress is not my thing. I'm a writer, a journalist actually, and a damn good one . I keep reminding myself that I just have one more year of this shit hole and I'll be free to do what I love.
I fiddle with my necklace a little longer until it finally clasps and as I round the corner I slam into someone. I stumble back to catch myself and manage an airy, "Sorry."
I look up to see dark jade eyes shining down at me and a scowl set on ridged features.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" His icy tone sends a shiver down my spine.
I shrug it off quickly.
"Why don't you try not being an asshole and just accept my apology?"
I brush past him, shoving my shoulder into his as I pass. A low rumble sounds from his throat. Before I have time to react, a large hand comes down hard on my arm, yanking me backward.
"I would watch the way you talk to people."
His eyes look even darker, almost black now, but I ignore it and narrow my own.
"Let go." I try to yank my arm away but his grip tightens.
Now, I've dealt with tons of assholes, they're common in a big city like Seattle, but something about this one is... Different. Usually I'm unafraid, but my heart is racing and it's getting harder and harder to keep my cool exterior and not go full out Kung-Fu-Panda on this guy.
A low chuckle escapes his now curved lips and he releases me. Everything in me is dying to run away but I refuse to give him that satisfaction. Instead, I stand my ground and I don't know why but I slap him. Well... I try to slap him but he catches my wrist and yanks me towards him so that our chests are touching. His cool breath blows against my face.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Then you would really have something to be afraid of."
I try to look into his eyes again, but the shadows cast by the building mask his features. Yanking my arm away, he releases me. I don't have time for his shit right now. Without another word I huff and stomp towards the back door. But even as I put distance between us I still feel his eyes on me, making my skin crawl.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"You're late."
And the gold star goes to Paul, for stating the fucking obvious.
I roll my eyes.
Paul is the kind of guy who thinks that his job is "the shit". When in reality, this is all that his life will ever amount to. I'm not saying that makes him beneath me or anything, it just makes him annoying as hell. Paul is typically a nice guy otherwise but ever since I rejected his offer to have a drink with him, he's been trying to 'lay down the law'. The key word there is try.
"I know. I'm sorry, it's the traffic around here and I missed the bus." I bat my lashes at him and I see him shift on his feet.
"W-well just don't let it happen again." He straightens his tie and clears his throat. "There is a business meeting in the back room. You and Tiffany will be serving them together."
He turns to walk away and then nervously turns back to me.
"And please be on your best behavior."
I'm about to make a sarcastic reply but he quickly walks away to avoid me.
Seriously? I'm not that big of a bitch. Well I am, but it's just because I'm brutally honest. Being a journalist you kind of have to be. The truth is all that matters to me, everyone else can keep their bullshit to themselves.
I'm definitely not implying that I never lie but... Well let's just say that if I don't know you or care, I won't hold back.
Heading into the kitchen, I hunt down Tiffany. I spot her failing miserably at opening a bottle of wine. Grinning and shaking my head, I head over to help her out.
"Here I got it."
I gently take it from her trembling hands and open it with ease. Tiffany gives me a nervous lift of her lips before taking a deep breath.
"Sorry Aurora, it's just that those men out there are... Intimidating. You'll see what I mean."
Doubt it.
"How about I pour the wine while you take a few minutes to collect yourself?" I suggest.
She nods and scampers off to freshen up in the bathroom. I sigh and make my way towards the back room.
Tiffany is a sweet girl. She is a freshman in college and does her best. Unfortunately, her curvy body and beautiful features make her prey to these kinds of men. She's from a small tight knit community so fending off unwanted attention is something she has yet to master.
As I enter the room, all eyes land on me. I can see why Tiffany felt intimidated, I almost feel that way. Not only are there about twenty men in here but they all are giving me that same shiver I got earlier.
Keep it together Aura.
I plaster a smile on my face and begin to make my way around the table. The men in the room resume their conversation but it doesn't stop my skin from crawling.
I'm about to pour the last glass when someone brushes past me, making me spill some wine on someone's lap.
"I'm so sorry!" I quickly apologize. A screw up like this could cost me my tip and I need all the money I can get.
The man stands up and I gasp. His fiery green eyes meet mine.
"If I wanted to be served by fucking idiots I would go to a McDonalds." He roars.
His long curly brown hair falls into his eyes and I shrink back momentarily.
This is the guy from earlier that gave me the creeps. Now in a well lit room, I can see his features more clearly. He has perfect pink lips which are set into a scowl and his chiseled jaw set.
I lay a hand on my hip and raise an annoyed eyebrow at him.
"I did apologize, sir."
The last word sounds forced as I try to keep my attitude at bay.
"I don't give a fuck. Why don't you scamper off back to the shit hole you came from?"
Something strange happens, his eyes darken fractionally and for the second time, I feel the sting of fear.
Taking a step away from him and lean over and pick up the bottle of wine. The man smirks at my lack of response and takes his seat once again. His wine glass is still empty and I almost leave it but with another glance at his face I ball my fist.
Striding back over to the table, I dump the bottle of wine directly on his lap. He shoves backward, fuming. His shoulders are shaking with fury and his eyes hold no color in their depths.
I cover my mouth and feign innocence as I shrug.
"Oops. I guess you should really watch the way you talk to people."
Then without another word, I exit the room. There is a commotion coming from the room I just exited and when I step back into the kitchen, a worried Paul is standing there.
"What happened?" He cries.
"I spilt a bottle of wine on one of them. It was an accident."
He narrows his eyes at me. "I seriously doubt that Aura. What did you-"
His interrupted by someone slamming into the kitchen. It's the man I poured the wine on. His furious glare scans the kitchen before resting on me. He makes a move towards me but Paul puts a hand on his chest to escort him out. The man smacks his hand away and continues to try to make his way towards me but he is soon grabbed by security and forced to exit.
Paul goes to follow them but before he exits he turns to me, "By the way, you're fired. Get out of here."
Aw fuck.
****
I quickly adjust my skirt and blouse before stepping out of the elevator. A blonde woman smiles sweetly at me.
"How may I help you?"
I return her smile and answer, "My name is Aurora Whitman. I'm here about a secretary job for a-" I glance down at the newspaper in my hand. "Mr. Styles?"
Her blue eyes show a hint of pity as the name leaves my lips but quickly covers it up.
"I'll let him know you're here. Take a seat please."
Doing as I'm told, I sit in the overly fancy chairs.
After last nights... Minor slip up, I scanned the help wanted section. I can't afford to be without a job and let's face it, waitressing just isn't for me. Crossing my legs, I wait patiently for something to happen.
Ten minutes pass and still nothing. I'm growing restless in my chair and I'm about to go talk to the receptionist again when another woman rounds the corner.
"Miss. Whitman?"
Finally!
I stand and walk over to her.
"Mr. Styles is ready for you."
She leads me down the hall to a set of double doors and opens one for me. I turn and thank her before she closes it behind me.
Taking in my surroundings, I notice a man sitting at his desk. His green eyes are concentrating on the papers scattered in front of him.
No fucking way.
I suck in a sharp breath, catching his attention. A large hand pushes his curly brown hair away from his face as he lifts his head. As he takes in my startled appearance, the corner of his mouth lifts making my heart race in my chest.
Aw fuck.
We must realize that nothing happens without a purpose.
All the love.
-A