Assisting Mr Dawson (Part 1/2)

This is a little romance piece i did a while ago. Thought I’d share.

ASSISTING MR DAWSON

Only a few more days until my resignation is finalised, sighs Daniella as she waits for her turn to order. She rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands before moving up the line, blinking back tears. I’m going to have the best nap ever when I get home.

“Hiya, what can I do for you?” The slim, perky, just-out-of-school girl behind the counter suddenly makes Daniella aware of the poorly concealed bags under her eyes, and all the calories that must have been in the takeaway she had last night. Can you go back in time and stop me from getting a job as a midwife?

“A coffee please: black, no sugar.” Daniella forces a smile to her face, hoping it looks the least bit genuine. The girl’s pearly white smile is beamed back at her, and she walks off to make her coffee. As she returns, Daniella reads her name tag which says ‘Charlotte’ in big capital letters on the right side of her chest. For some reason she now hates that name.

Mumbling her thank-yous, Daniella moves away from the counter when a yawn escapes her as she makes her way to the exit. She covers her mouth and closes her eyes as if that will somehow get the yawn to leave her body quicker.

“Oomph.” Daniella is only a few steps from the exit when she collides with what seems like a brick wall. She steps back and places a hand on her chest at the point of impact.

“Ah!” she hears someone shout out in pain and looks up to see who it is. In the commotion she hadn’t realised it was actually a human being – a man at that. The person in front of Daniella shoots her a pained look from behind his glasses.

“Well the least you can do is apologise and get me some tissue!” The man scowls at Daniella’s lack of urgency. Confused, she examines him. At spotting the large coffee stain on his once crisp, white shirt she understands.

“I’m so sorry!” says Daniella, flapping her hands about looking for some tissue. Flustered, she runs around the shop picking up handfuls of tissue to give to him. Why me, and why today? She thinks, chastising herself as she hands the man tissue. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t even realise that I spilt my coffee. I haven’t ruined your shirt, have I? Was it expensive?” she says, her eyes not leaving the stain.

(To BE Continued…)

 

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