It was a video of her brother Jay blowing a raspberry on her niece Sam's tummy. She replayed the video to hear the sound again. The high-pitched squeal of Sam wrapped around her heart like a long hug; for a moment, she felt everything was right. Everything was perfect. "Awww... that is damn adorable. I can't wait to see her." She clicked the send button.
She clicked on the following message from her best friend, Max. "Can we meet for drinks today?" My best friend, Max, pinged.
Coffee first, plans later. It's incredible how the world begins to change through the eyes of a cup of coffee. Behind every successful woman is a substantial amount of coffee.
She clutched her coat tighter to avoid the November chills of the London climate. The coffee house was bustling with people, but a strong Latte was worth the line, and she allowed herself ample time for caffeine.
A freezing chill in the air brings crispness to the leaves, bejeweled with frost, that crunch underfoot. The headache Annabelle woke up with was thickening like a day-old stew. The cafe looked inviting; warmth and soft jazz were on the other side of those doors.
Greasy spoon cafe, run-down South London street, near train brick-built train overpass, two doors down from a fabulous Indian restaurant, near the Rastafarian's car garage, opposite mid-rise low-cost flats. The tiny café huddled despondent among the huge city buildings. Unlike the outside, the interior of the café was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colorful walls. The customers returned to their conversations as the door closed behind the new entrant and forgot the cold breeze.
She has two hours to be at the clinic and plans to sit at a corner table in the coffee shop and finish the patient report. The air is thick with the scent of coffee, although she drinks in the aroma while waiting in the queue. She waits patiently for her turn while browsing her patient's records on the phone.
"Anne!" She jolts at her name as Lucy, who works the register, shouts for her from behind the counter.
She steps forward, only to have a man in a dark gray suit step in front of her. Frowning, she instinctively moves forward and touches his arm.
"Excuse me." He doesn't respond, and she is sure he's aware she is now standing right next to him. "Excuse me," she repeats.
He doesn't turn around, and now she is irritated. She tugs on the sleeve of what she is sure is his costly jacket and achieves her intended goal: He turns to look at her, and the look of calm irritation etched on his ridiculously handsome face tells her she has accomplished her goal. He now feels what she feels, and as a bonus: He now knows that despite her being barely five foot two, blonde, She will not let him ignore her. "I was next,"
"I have much more important business than to wait for you to finish playing games on your phone."
"Games? Are you serious?" She opens her mouth to say more and snaps it shut, holding up a hand to stop him from doing or saying something that might be landing them both in a police station today is not worth it.
"Wait for your turn, like the gentleman you should be." His eyes, which she now knows to be a wicked crystal green, narrow ever so slightly before he turns to the counter.
"An Espresso Frappuccino and whatever she's having." Mr. Arrogant looks at her.
"What do you want? I'll buy your drink."
"Is that an apology?"
"It's a concession made in the interest of time. Not an apology. You were busy on the phone playing—"
"I was not playing games. I was working while you were plotting the best way to push around the woman who was ahead of you."
"That's the best you've got? I'm pushing around women?"
"No, you're not pushing around women today," She bit the corner of her lip, smirking. "You tried and failed. I can buy my coffee."
She faced the counter. "My usual."
"Already wrote up your cup," Lucy says. "It should be ready in a minute."
"Thank you," She said and turned to Mr. Arrogant because she couldn't help herself. "I'll leave you with a helpful tip since you've been so exceedingly helpful to me today. The phrases' thank you's and 'I'm sorry are not only Manners 101, but failure to use them will either keep a man single or make a man single." With that, she brushed past the stunned man, leaving him with his mouth hanging open.
She waits for the woman leaving to clear her space and then murmurs a "thank you" that Mr. Arrogant Asshole back at the counter doesn't understand before claiming her seat and placing her bag on the table. Settling in her chair, she has no idea why her gaze lifts and seeks out Mr. Arrogant, who now stands at the counter, talking on his cellphone and oozing that kind of rich, powerful presence that sucks up all the air in the room and makes every woman around look at him.
At that moment, with that thought, Mr. Arrogant decides to turn around and somehow find the exact spot where she is sitting, those piercing green eyes locked on her. And now he knows watching she was watching him, which means she is busted and probably appears more interested in him than she cares. She cuts her stare and pulls out her MacBook, keying it to life, and when it's connected, she hears, "Order for Annabelle!"
Hi Guys,
I'm back with a story. Let me know your thoughts.
Love,
Sunshine.
YOU ARE READING
Forbidden Love
RomanceA forbidden love story about fate, heartache, and second chances. Life was perfect until the day her brother met with an accident and left the custody of his daughter to Annabelle. The catch is that she is to get married in a year. Desperate, angry...
