SEQUEL TO - ESPRESSOLY FOR YOU; a one shot.
Daisy, twenty-two and a culinary graduate was set to crack her first interview and impress the head chef but when asked to meet the restaurant manager for a final word, things took a turn into the surprise...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sunlight streamed through the crack in the window and over my face. The room scintillated with the reflection, triggering an impending headache. When I sat up on the bed and held my head between my palms, occurrences from yesterday crept back in my mind.
Drunk to the point of no recollection, I leaned over to the warm bedspread, easing my body into a comfortable wake. Dark colored geometric bedspread hurt my eyes every time I looked at them. Mine had pastel colored which soothed me every morning.
With a jerk, I pushed off the bed, scanning the room. None of the things were mine. Heck, it wasn't even my room.
I tossed my body over to the mirror. I was in a hoodie and joggers. My black gown was neatly placed on the corner of a chair facing the window. Picking it up, I danced around the room in a half knelt position, looking for my phone.
I was in someone else's room. Having no recollection, I was ready to ditch the remainder of my belongings and dash out the door. There was no clock in the place but the scorching sunlight outside indicating mid morning.
I made a run towards the main entrance with my dress and heels clutched in my hands. Before I could toss the door open, a voice emerged from behind.
"Care to have a cuppa before leaving?"
I took all the time in the world to turn. The voice emerged from the kitchen. Information on whose house I was in or what happened yesterday night could all be answered, if I turned. But like a frostbite, I stood stagnant at my earlier position, holding the doorknob in my hand.
"You can leave if you want. No pressure." The voice stated what I wanted to do all along.
Somehow, knowing I had the option to leave gave me the comfort to face my fear.
Sitting on a chair, cross-legged and watching me with a grin on his face was none other than my arch nemesis - Steve. The instance my vision fell on him, grip over my attire and shoes loosened. My mind went into a state of perplexity and suddenly the entire area felt warmer than usual.
"Did we sleep together?" were the first words out of my mouth. It wasn't well received by Steve who walked over to the borosil pot for a beverage refreshment.
With crinkled forehead and a head tilt, Steve walked back with two cups of coffee in his hand. One, he slid farther away on the counter while the other nested in his palm.
"Why would you ask me that?" After taking a deep long slurp, he closed his eyes and exhaled loud. "I don't sleep with unconscious woman."
"Unconscious!" Kudos to me, I was molding up to be a perfect LA model. "Why was I unconscious?"
"You tell me," he tapped on the extra steaming mug while I squeezed my head between my palms in the wake of a new ache, spiraling with the onset of new information. "Have a seat and drink this first. I tended to you yesterday. Don't make me do it again."
