On the weekends, I worked at a jewellery store as a part-time employee. When the shops were less busy, I'd sit behind the counter and engross myself in a book.
"Morning Jolene." My boss said as I walked in, and I gave her a grin as I took my position behind the cash register. Tapping my fingers on the glass counter, I waited for someone to come in.
Maybe a fiance-to-be, looking for a ring.
Or someone looking for a birthday present.
Or an anniversary present.
My life at work revolved around the notion of love, all the jewellery that sparkled behind the glass cases representative of that. It made me hopeful when I saw how passionate people would seem as the drawled on and on about how happy their loved ones made them, and how perfect their gift would hopefully be.
There was something unexplainably rewarding about my work.
As evening rolled around, and as I sat, reading my book on a rather monotonous Saturday, the bell dinged, signalling that someone had entered. My head jolted up and I slammed the book shut.
My heart halted when my grey eyes collided with his brown ones. He gave me a grin and ran a hand through his hair. A sense of delight seemed to flash in his eyes as he recognised me.
"I need a gift for someone." Uttered his baritone voice.
YOU ARE READING
The Consequences of Chance Meetings
ContoThey first met at a bus stop, completely by accident. The few stolen glances slowly snowballed into brief conversations which slowly bloomed into something more. They never were supposed to fall for one another, but that boy somehow melted her ice w...
