When Samantha James becomes One Direction's personal assistant, she gets more than she bargains for. Falling for Harry Styles is one of them. But things aren't always easy or beautiful, because Sam has secrets--dark ones, and she'll do anything to h...
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I put the receipt in the bag and thanked the woman, giving her a smile as she turned to walk out the door. Sighing, I leaned up against the cash register. My long black bangs fell into my face and I swiped them back just as I heard someone clearing their throat behind me.
Turning, I saw that is was him. He had a smirk on his sculpted face, his ice blue eyes shining. "Want to join me for lunch?" he asked.
Silent, I nodded, and untied my apron. I set it on the conveyer belt and shut my line, clocking out. I grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from the vending machine before joining him outside. "Long day, huh?" he said.
"I still have four more hours to go," I replied and popped a chip into my mouth.
He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it with a thoughtful look on his face. "What are you doing this weekend?"
Friday night I had youth group and Saturday was family night. Sunday morning and afternoon I taught Sunday school and had church service. I shrugged. "I might have some free time during Saturday," I replied.
"We should hang out," he announced.
I nearly choked on my potato chip. He wanted to hang out with me? Stormin' Mormon Sam? At least, that's what the kids at school called me behind my back. They thought I didn't know, or they just didn't care. "Um, sure," I replied.
He smiled at me and my stomach clenched. "Why are you so shy? You act like no one thinks you're pretty."
His words surprised me. Of course I wasn't pretty. My hair was plain black and pin straight down my shoulders. I wasn't allowed to wear makeup or show my chest. I couldn't wear anything that didn't reach my knees. There was nothing pretty about me. "It's not that," I lied. "I'm just very...reserved."
The boy just smiled and shook his head once again. "Well, I think you're pretty. We should definitely hang out. I'll be upset if we don't."
I tried to hide my smile as I took a sip of my drink.
My eyes sprang open and I gasped. It was just a dream, but that's exactly what had happened. I swiped my sweaty bangs from my face and looked over at the time. It was only eight in the morning. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. My sleep schedule had been severely fucked up due to touring. It'd been almost two weeks and I still couldn't shake the endless feeling of exhaustion.
I threw the covers off of me and slipped on a pair of jogging pants and a thin t-shirt. I piled my hair on top of my head and quietly walked out the back door of the kitchen. Nicki's house sat a street behind Venice beach, so I took the short walk.
