As she clocked in for her shift, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her. It was going to be one of those days. She could just tell.
At first, everything seemed normal. She took orders, poured coffee, and delivered plates of food with a smile. But as the morning wore on, the restaurant began to fill with more and more customers. And it seemed like every single one of them needed something from Emily.
"Can I get a refill on my coffee?" one customer asked, just as she was about to take a sip of her own.
"Where's my food?" another customer demanded, tapping their foot impatiently.
"Can I get a new fork? This one's dirty," a third customer said, handing her a fork with a speck of ketchup on it.
Emily tried her best to keep up, but it seemed like no matter how fast she moved, there was always someone calling her name. "Emily, can you take this order?" her manager asked, slapping a ticket down on the counter. "Emily, can you deliver this food?" a coworker asked, thrusting a tray into her hands.
As the lunch rush reached its peak, Emily felt like she was running on a treadmill that was going nowhere. She was sweating, her feet ached, and her smile was starting to feel like it was permanently etched on her face.
Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, a customer sent their food back, complaining that it was cold. Emily apologized profusely and offered to replace it, but the customer was having none of it. "This is ridiculous," they snapped. "I demand to see your manager."
Emily felt a lump form in her throat as she called her manager over to deal with the situation. She knew she was doing her best, but it seemed like no one was satisfied with anything she did.
A younger man sat at the other end.d of the restaurant, where a mini bar was located at. There was a small smirk at the corner of his lips, and he looked kinda amused with Emily's situation and how reacted with everyone.
The young man, Marcus, sat with all his attention, his piercing green eyes fixed on the waitress, Emily, as she expertly balanced a tray of drinks and navigated the bustling restaurant with grace.
His gaze was mesmerized by her radiant smile and the way her ginger hair cascaded down her back like a river of sunset hues.
Marcus's own chiseled features seemed chiseled from marble, his strong jawline and prominent cheekbones accentuating his angular face. His full lips, curved into a subtle, enigmatic smile, hinted at secrets and mysteries waiting to be unraveled.
His eyes, a deep shade of green, sparkled with an intensity that seemed to see right through to Emily's soul.
His raven-black hair, perfectly messy and tousled, framed his face like a work of art, and his broad shoulders, evident even under his tailored shirt, exuded confidence and strength. His long, slender fingers drummed a slow rhythm on the bar, as if keeping pace with the beating of his heart.
As Emily drew closer, her eyes locking onto his, Marcus's gaze never wavered, his eyes burning with an intensity that left her breathless. The air seemed to vibrate with an almost palpable tension, as if the very space between them was alive and crackling with electricity.
Time stood still as they held each other's gaze, the world around them melting away, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a moment of pure, unadulterated attraction.
Just as Emily was about to deliver another plate of food, her friend and coworker, Ginny, noticed the strange attraction between Emily and the mysterious young man.
With a knowing glint in her eye, Ginny tugged Emily's arm playfully, whispering, "Hey, girl, I think you've got a fan club of one over there!"
Emily's cheeks flushed as she followed Ginny's nod towards Marcus, who was still gazing at her with an intensity that made her heart race. She quickly looked away, trying to compose herself, but Ginny's teasing had already drawn attention to the palpable tension between them.
"He smells like money. He won't want a low life like me," Emily whispered and tried to control her flushed expression.
Ginny let out a frustrated grunt and walked away to serve her own customers their tray of food.
Emily was still reeling from Ginny's teasing, her eyes darting towards Marcus every so often. She tried to focus on her work, but her mind kept wandering back to the mysterious young man.
Just as she was delivering a tray of drinks to a nearby table, Ginny snuck up behind her and gave her a playful nudge. "Hey, Em, I think your fan club is waiting!"
Emily's eyes widened as she lost her balance, the tray tilting precariously. She tried to regain her composure, but it was too late. A glass of iced tea spilled all over Marcus's tailored shirt and trousers.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" Emily exclaimed, mortified. She gave Ginny a death glare and turned to Marcus.
Marcus quickly stood up, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "It's okay, it's just a drink," he said with a dark chuckle.
Emily's face turned bright red as she grabbed a handful of napkins to help clean up the mess. Ginny, realizing her mistake, quickly apologized and tried to help as well.
Marcus took the napkins from her and dabbed his trousers himself. The drink spilled at an unholy place that would grab attention if she cleans it herself.
"I'm so sorry again," Emily said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm such a clumsy fool."
Marcus smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's okay, really. It's just a drink. But maybe I'll see you around, Emily?"
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Emily feeling both relieved and disappointed that their interaction had ended so quickly.
Ginny nudged her again, this time with a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Em. I think he liked the accidental drink special."
Emily playfully rolled her eyes, but deep down, she hoped Ginny was right. "He knows my name," she whispered with a wary sigh as she watched him disappear.