Oops! My Croissant Started a Coup! | Complete (ONC 2021 Longlister)

1. Influencer Extraordinaire

Star social media influencer I am not. But when you start a breakfast account on Twitter, you commit. That's a promise to your followers, you know?

As I scrolled through the fifty-four pictures of my croissant breakfast sandwich, the item itself grew cold on my counter. But that was the price I paid for internet anonymity.

It was the thirty-second image that really captured the essence of the sandwich, so I selected that one and took to typing out my caption with my right hand as I ate the now cold sandwich with my left. Something about cold fried egg was not overly appetizing, but I finished it anyway. I'm not in the position to waste food.

A small buzz from my phone alerted me to a successful post when, as usual, Olivia was the first to like my tweet. And, also as expected, my phone remained silent through the remainder of my morning preparations and the duration of my commute to work.

Because I had managed to get myself ready in record time, I could catch an earlier train and get to work early enough to stop at the new coffee shop down the street from my first client. I had been trying to get there in time to try their supposedly famous tea for weeks. Now that I think about it, that would have been a really great place to buy a breakfast sandwich and post about it. I honestly don't know what I was thinking.

It was so caught up in my self-pity mixed with confusion that I crashed straight into the door clearly labelled 'PULL'. It was at the precise moment that my butt collided with the pavement that I realized I had somehow forgotten to change out of my sweats and into my jeans that morning. The early arrival this morning suddenly made sense. I should have known... I'm never early!

I might only be a nanny-slash-housecleaner-slash-dog-walker, but even I had some sense of dignity and torn sweats were usually beneath me. Okay, not usually beneath me, but definitely beneath my work attire. At any rate there would be no going back now. Going home would make me at least an hour and a half late for work. That kind of delay would likely lose me my job.

The woman standing inside the cafe trying to leave looked at me like I was single-handedly ruining her day, so I scurried to my feet and pulled the door open to let her pass with a casual, "Have a good day!"

To my extreme surprise, she didn't reply. This happens a lot.

I was standing inside the cafe debating the many menu options — who knew there were this many kinds of tea — when a man caught my attention by standing up from a table in the corner.

I know, I know. 'The man caught my attention,' right? But it actually happened, and if you saw him, you would understand. He was gorgeous. And I mean gorgeous. He wasn't too muscled but not too short and his beautiful face perfectly matched his kind of pointy glasses and my eyes couldn't help but wander down to the muscles not at all hidden by his deep blue shirt.

When he looked right at me, waved, and broke into a big, genuine smile, my heart burst apart. Me?

As it turns out, nope. Not me. The woman who had just walked through the door and stood right behind me was clearly the intended target of the affection. But I, of course, didn't know that until after I waved back and smiled. It was only when she walked past me in her long, luxurious coat and pointy clicky heels to kiss him on both cheeks that I realized my mistake.

Throw me in a bin with the tomatoes and the only difference would be how large I am. The blood in my face made me hot and faint, but I managed to hold it together until his eyes locked with mine. Arm still raised in a half-hearted wave, I was stuck with no alternative but to admit my mistake.

Oh, shit!

"Sorry," I said with a shrug. "Thought you were someone else."

God, if you're out there, please let the ground swallow me whole right now. It's the only merciful thing to do.

Unfortunately, my wish was not granted, so I had to resort to staring at my plain, brown walking shoes all the way through the line and my order. I had taken to studying the length of my laces when the barista finally called my name.

"Harper," called the young man who I personally could not believe was even finished school yet. "A London Fog for Harper."

I snatched the drink out of his hand and raced out of the cafe, this time at least slamming straight into the 'PUSH' side of the door and therefore stumbling into the street instead of bruising my face. So that was something.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but my hands were already full and if the time on the billboard was correct, I was about to be late for work with a store-bought coffee cup in hand which is, as the snooty ladies who employ me would call it, 'a sign I lack time management.' Time management, of course, being a quality they value in everyone but themselves.

There are only three people who ever call me. My mom would hear from me the next time I burned some kind of unruinable casserole recipe; Olivia would see me at lunch today when we abandoned the youths for twenty-two minutes and scarfed down something completely lacking nutrients; and my dentist would never hear from me again, probably.

The strange tweet sound brought me back to my senses as I crossed the busy street leading into the ornate gated community where my clients lived. This morning I was working for the Casillases, and at least their kid was usually content to dig in the dirt most of the day. It wasn't so bad as long as I got him cleaned off before his parents came home to notice him taking part in such an unbecoming activity.

It would appal them to know how little I teach their son, but I'm fairly confident they will ever figure it out. I mean, we are woefully behind in our Mandarin lessons. But neither I nor the Casillases know any Mandarin, so I suspect I can get away with that one for a few more years. Give or take. And by then I should have been fired for a few different things already, so what can you do?

I rounded the back of the house and punched my lock code into the door one minute before I was due to start and stepped into the tropical climate of the kitchen just as my phone buzzed again. 

What did I do to break you, phone? Leave me alone!

* ~ * Author's Note * ~ *

This story started in chaos when I suggested a title to a group of writing friends as a joke! But then I looked at it and thought... you know, I actually really want to write that. So here we are having a load of fun together. 

Please feel free to vote and comment if you are so inclined - I'm always excited to see what other people think, especially with fun things like this story! The next chapter will be up Friday :)