Maven's Saving Grace

four || grace

[ g r a c e : t h e o f f e r ]

"Something big is happening, feel it in my bones, pushing, pulling and it's grabbing me"

The next afternoon, when my alarm clock rings for the umpteenth time, I smack it right off the table.

Yes, I slept in late. Sue me.

Huffing, I push the blankets off of my body and struggle into the shower. When I'm all cleaned up, I shrug on a casual lace tank top and a pair of acid-washed jeans.

I even put on some make up and I gasp when I realise why I'm doing so. I'm trying to look good for Maven.

Gosh Grace, how shallow of you. He steals your wallet and here you are, primping yourself for him.

Glancing at my wrist watch, I realise that it's already 1:45p.m. and there's only 15 more minutes till my shift starts.

I force myself to stop and leave home so that I can reach Kevin's pub on time for my afternoon shift.

A tinge of disappointment speaks in me when I reach the pub and  realise that Maven is nowhere to be found.

He was supposed to be here....

Is he coming? He should be. He better be!

Oh my god, where is he?

My train of thoughts revolved around these few sentences for the whole day and I'm absolutely livid when my shift ends at 8p.m.

How dare he? Did he think that just because he had connections with people like Mindy Lotte, he was some big shot? That he could push people around and steal their stuff or try to run them over?

The anger and anxiety coursing through me doesn't go unnoticed by Kevin when I finally slip up. A bottle of beer falls from my hands when the doors of the pub suddenly swing open and I crane my head to see wether the person entering is Maven. He isn't.

Kevin leers at me, "The fuck are you doing Grace? Look at the mess you made! Focus on your job or I'll let you go. Now clean this shit up and go home."

I roll my eyes as I turn away from him and the words "let you go" resonate in my head as I force myself to pull out of my stupor. Get your head in the game Grace, you need this job.

Heaving a tired sigh, I take my belongings and leave the pub as fast as I can. Just as I turn to close the doors of the pub, a rough, calloused hand grabs my shoulders and drags me away.

I have a pretty good idea who the hand belongs to.

"Let..me..go!" I struggle, my hands flailing. I'm fervently praying that I'm at least able to get a good hit on his face. "Maven! Let me go!"

Instead of listening to me, he places his other hand on me as well and steers me to the nearby café, Alføn. "You look good."

I blush beet red and squirm even more in his hold. However, he's holding me too tight.

The feeling of his hands on me are strange. I expected his hands to be soft and smooth since pretty boy's probably never done labour before.