DAWNING POINT (AgeTabooRomance)

Chapter 1 (EDITED)

Author's Note: Hi guys! I've tried sooo long and hard to get this out to you. It's hard to critique where your work began, but hopefully this first edit fulfils your expectations and better compares to my later (more recent) writing. The first chap has to grip you, and I would love to hear if it does. Please comment, vote and tell me what you think of this update!

Love you guys xx

***

Thank God I decided to wear a skirt today.

On the average shift I wore trousers for their easy manoeuvrability, however the summer heat at noon was so unbearable that I both physically and mentally couldn't force the pants up my sweat-slicked thighs. Synthetic pants were a killer in this weather; add running around like an infant with endless freedom and the titles of bartender and waitress, and you got a very hot and bothered me.

As luck would have it, one of the new trainee bartenders had split a tray of schooners down my bare legs instead of what would have been my trousered ones, and needless to say, it was easier to clean sticky beer off of bare skin than it was out of saturated material.

Thank God I was wearing a skirt.

Gliding my hands over my exposed legs, I checked myself for any residual tackiness from the alcohol, cleaning here and there with a damp disposable cloth. The last thing I needed was chaffing whilst I ran around with orders for the next hour, now that Friday night dinner service had started. Dropping the beer-soaked rag into the bin as the kitchen clattered and sizzled behind me, I looked out to the crowd beyond, the restaurant growing busier with each passing minute.

The Harbour, the popular seaside cuisine that employed me, was bustling with groups of excited people. Talking, laughing and clinking glasses to tribute their special occasions, the restaurant was filled with joyous chatter.

The Harbour was the go-to dining destination here in Dawning Point, and although pubs and eateries weren't at all scarce around here, this place was the only licenced dine-in directly on the waterfront, which brought with it a mile-long list of expectations from the clientele. With the freshest seafood, the trendiest day bar and the most hypnotic view within one hundred kilometres of the place, naturally the guests demanded a lot of the venue and even more of the staff; the very reason for my displeasure on crazy days such as this one.

The Harbour's manager, and my immediate higher-up, Chris, had kept busy with more pressing issues of restaurant operation today and left me responsible for customer service and damage control. No, I wasn't officially a supervisor, however I adhered to company standards without breaking too much of a sweat. A promotion wasn't on the cards for me at the moment, but that didn't mean Chris had a problem keeping me active with tasks above my pay grade.

I didn't much mind for the most part. Although, with three meal refunds, five drinks on-the-house, two formal complaints concerning poor service and certain insults that made one of the girls leave work in tears, I was quickly creeping towards my wits end. I usually held up well under pressure on even my worst day, but the past ten hours were another beast entirely. And with two hours' sleep, no food in my stomach and the addition of female hormones, all made a case for my growing unease.

The evening temperature dropped slightly from the day as the sky developed heavy patches of charcoal and ivory, but it was hardly any relief. Summer weather here was intense–being so close to the equator and all–but with today's abnormally impossible humidity and nightfall promising thunder and heavy rain, weather this dramatic was rare. Nevertheless, heat waves generally drew people here like moths to a flame, either to enjoy coldies or to sample the scene as storm season brought weather in over the water.