"Boss, she's here again."
Vincent looked at his suit, there was no tie, but he felt he didn't look right, "Saad, give me your t-shirt."
"Boss, what?"
"You heard me, give me your t-shirt."
Saad shook his head but executed the order feeling sorry for his single and desperate boss.
Vincent slipped on the t-shirt, slicked his hair back, and went out to the counter. There she was, all smiles and sparkling eyes.
"Hi, so what will it be for you?"
Vincent's heart skipped like every time Sierra came to order today; she had her black hair let down, neutral make-up, and glossy nude lips. She wore a beige trench coat and black heels with that renowned red sole; Vincent liked her style, never overboard.
"I'll have a cheese naan for starters and a chicken biriyani."
Even her voice was sweet, Vincent thought. It was warm but not sultry, and it suited her.
"Will that be all?"
"I think it's more than enough," Sierra said, giving Vincent a smile that sent his soul floating to the heavens gates.
"Eat in or take out?"
"Take out."
They stared at each other for a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity for Vincent.
"Eh, how much will it be?" Sierra said as she turned her gaze away while she tucked a strand of her behind her ears.
"Fifteen, I mean thirteen euros."
Sierra cocked an eyebrow of suspicion, "are you new here? I've never seen you before."
For the first time, Sierra scanned Vincent. He wasn't very tall, dark brown silky hair, a predominant beard, warm marron stare highlighted with long dark lashes, which gave him Bambi's gaze.
The man was charming, and there was his accent. Though he appeared to have Indian origins, there was no doubt about it; he was English. Or the man had lived there long enough to pick up the accent, which remained even when he spoke French.
"Eh, I don't think your boss will be happy if the till is seven euros short."
Sierra's honesty made the woman even more attractive to Vincent's eye," you're right. Sorry, it will be twenty euros."
"That's more like it."
Vincent laughed and stopped when he sure Sierra's inquisitive stare, "sorry, it's just it's not every day someone wants to pay more."
"I am not paying more; I am just giving the right price for the delicious food which someone had a hard time preparing. Also, I would not want one of my favorite restaurants to shut down because a new employee did know the prices practiced. Or, the owner to end up a pauper because employees are handing out freebies."
The man's body did not know which reaction he should have first. If Vincent knew Sierra better, he would hug her. Instead, Vincent blushed and prayed while Sierra searched her bag, please don't pay cash.
"Here it is."
The blue card shimmered in the woman's hand, and Vincent couldn't be happier as the woman handed her credit card.
Finally, he had her name, "Sierra Lennox."
"Excuse me?"
"Eh, sorry, it's just your name" Vincent felt the shame of being caught red-handed.
YOU ARE READING
SIERRA'S LEONE
ChickLitSierra becomes the mom of six months old Leone, her deceased best friend's son. The baby's grandparents want his custody and conspire. Who else has more rights than Leone's father, but Mr. Potsmann has a plan of his own. Sierra finds herself whiske...