~Close your eyes and picture the warmth of the sun on your skin... that's how being loved by her felt~
Harry Styles is a nepotism baby turned new father, left clueless with a newborn baby to raise, he is overwhelmed and under pressure. Matters are...
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"So that's a chocolate milkshake for you. A strawberry milkshake for you and a diet coke for you and then two portions of fries as well as a portion of onion rings?" I recite the order back to the table of three that were huddled in the corner.
"Yes." The youngest looking girl nods. "Perfect, thank you!"
I smile at her, tapping my pen against the paper of the order pad a couple of times before shoving it back in the pocket of the white apron tied around my waist.
"I'll go put this in and it shouldn't be too long of a wait for you guys."
With that I bow my head and excuse myself from the edge of their table. Heading over to the kitchen, I smile at my colleague, Delilah, and head to the chefs on duty. One of them is waiting for me to slip the piece of paper in so he can start cooking.
I do, grinning at him before drumming my hands on the counter in a little beat of six.
"Sunday?"
I turn back to him, eyebrows raised and ready for the question. "Paul?"
"Why do you keep looking at the door?"
My eyes widen at my indiscretion. I thought I was doing a good job at hiding my incessant need to watch the door in case a certain grumpy stranger wanders back in to say hello.
I wanted to thank him for the tip. His coffee cost no more than ten dollars but he left a fifty dollar bill on the side.
At first I wondered if it was a mistake and so when I took it home that night, I flattened out the creases and took it back to work the next day on the off chance he would pop back in and ask for his money back. But when he didn't show, I put it into the jar that I have of spare cash in case the girls ever need anything.
A new pair of shoes, to go to the doctors, anything really.
Having two of them means that there is always something that needs to be replaced or brought.
He hasn't come back yet and for some bizarre reason that bothers me. I don't know why because I don't even know his name. All I know about him is that he likes black coffee and he is a single dad to a new born baby called Amos.
I know nothing about this man and yet my mind seems to be scheming ways to find out his name. He was hardly nice to me but I managed to rationalise that and have simply chalked it up to his obvious exhaustion from being a single dad to a newborn.
Turning away from the door, I meet Paul's unconvinced gaze while shrugging my shoulders.
"I don't."
"You do? Who are you waiting for?"
"No one!" I protest with an uneasy giggle.
I've never been good at lying to people, I always found it cruel and unnecessary to not tell the truth, especially over trivial things. But then again, I know how ridiculous I will look if I admit to being enamoured by a random stranger who has an appalling attitude.
