Here's a new story. I hope you enjoy. I'm literally winging it.

"You have five seconds, Goldsworthy." I know little about in store modeling, let alone teaching someone else how to in store model. I am an aspiring novelist, noble prize winner, voted most likely to make a difference in the world by all my senior classmates. One thing I'm not is a jean size 2 in store model at Abercrombie and Fitch. Well, that is..until now(minus the jean size 2 part..it's a work in progress).What happens to an 18 year old girl living alone in New York City? She loses herself enough to pay the bills at her cockroach apartment. I was on a full scholarship at Columbia University, but lucky me, the scholarship actually wasn't intended for me..so now I'm stuck having to pay off a full semester's worth of tuition and my roach infested abode. The last thing I need is this new foreign intern to give me a hard time during his training. Of all people, I was chosen to train the Alaskan wannabe model. All you have to do as an in store model is walk around shirtless, folding clothes. How hard can that be? Elijah Goldsworthy is a thick skull kid. The one thing he needs to do is take his shirt off and he refuses!

"I refuse to be a sex symbol. I can be sexy with my short on," Elijah winked and bounced his eyebrows. He's corny as hell, if you ask me. "Well, work somewhere else, because here, "no shirt" is a requirement, sweety." It's true, it's a policy written in the handbook. Anyone not able to oblige can pick up and leave. Just then, Elijah's ripping muscles tugged on the ends of his shirt and lifted it over his head, each inch the shirt rode up, I breathed heavily and focused my attention to his toned abdomen. I stuttered, "W-w-where did you say y-you were from?" Oh, it wasn't hard to tell that he was a real man, a soaring 6 foot 2 beauty, a delicious piece of ass, a di-Oh, God..Get a grip, Clare! "Canada. North of the Etats Unis, like we say in French..." Every word he said drifted off into oblivion in my mind, he's stunning. But I won't let him control me with his good looks and great package (with muscles like those, it's not rocket science that he has a nice looking friend down south).

Once I got a hold of myself, I was able to muster enough words to continue his training. Pretty simple, he got the hang of things quickly. He was already officially working within the hour. I took the opportunity to chat it up with my coworker Carla over at her corner, "Damn Clare, you are so lucky you got to train that fine specimen." Carla eye raped Elijah without a care, "Who? Elijah? Ugh, he's such a cocky bastard. Not my type." Of course, I lied to myself and Carla. Elijah was most definitely my type, he's smug and totally fuckable..what is there not to like? Carla shook her head in disdain, "Damn, if I had the chance to train that sexy ranger, we would be in the fitting room doing God knows what."

The whole time, Carla kept yapping about her erotic fantasies pertaining to Elijah, and it made be very uncomfortable to say the least. I shouldn't be fawning over some guy I know nothing about anyways. I have two jobs, rent ,and college tuition to pay for. Elijah Goldworthy is the last thing that should be on my mind.

I swiped my card through the employee check out/in system to confirm that my shift was over when I felt a slight breathing on the back of my neck, "Checking out already? Lucky you, it's only 3 o'clock. " Elijah's fresh breath came out as a whisper. I slipped away from his near embrace of my body and admitted, "Not so lucky me, I'm off to job numero dos, like we say in Spanish," I said, mocking his statement from before. "So she's cute and a hard worker. That's exactly how I like my girls." H e winked once more, mentally driving me over the edge. "Actually I prefer those fair skinned latinas, about hmm... 5'7 with reddish brown hair." I almost fit the description, so I decided to let my cockiness surge and correct his error, "I'm 5'8." He shook his head and chuckled, "I wasn't referring to you, sweetheart" My heart sank, maybe he's just messing with me? Nevertheless, I feel very embarrassed. He could have been talking about his girlfriend for all I know.

Thank God, after a long day at my gruesome job at Target, I can go home. However, some people don't seem to understand that the number at my cash register is not. Some punk stacked 3 cases of beer on the belt. "Excuse me, sir. This line is closed. You see that number above me that turns on when my line is opened? Yeah, well..it's off. "Off" meaning my line is closed." I didn't mean to be rude but I've been on my feet since 8 o'clock this morning. "Well, well. Clare? You work here? I think I have to report you for awfully bad customer service." Of course, Elijah..here to make my day harder than it was before. "Alright, fine. You're my last customer. By the way, are you following me?" Elijah rolled his eyes in annoyance, "No Cuh-lare, Target is a public building. This is a coincidence, honest. Scout's honor."

I gave a once over to the unsettling amount of beer placed before me and realized, "Sorry, to ruin your night, but I'm going to have to see some ID." He confidently opened his wallet and handed his ID to me, I checked it for more than just his age. Hmm...my estimate was correct. He is 6 foot 2, his middle name is Reynolds, he lives in the Bronx and just a few blocks away from me, and he's turning 21 next month. "Sorry, you can't purchase. Here in the United States of America, the legal age to purchase alcoholic beverages is 21." Elijah looked taken aback and huffed, His lips rolled as they vibrated on one another, "Well, that blows. So much for land of the free, eh?" I felt so bad to ruin his night so I let my big mouth get this best of me, "I want to make it up to you. Maybe we could go out for some lunch sometime." I said it as a statement. One thing I learned was that questions may signal insecurity, and this girl has nothing but security.

"Alright, I'll pick you up on Saturday." Elijah smirked at my straight fowardness, and I decided to test more of my confidence, "No, I'll pick you up." After all, I know his address.

Ok, that was it. Was it good, if so, let me know. I tolerate constructive criticism, not harsh, rude comments about my writing style or plot. However, I am open to suggestions on how I can make the story better. I am really winging this story. Every time I over analyze a story, it never turns out the way I want it to. Feel free to check out my other stories. I will try do my best to continue "All Things Leading to You" just hang in there. It's been a while since I've written a story, but I'm on summer vacation so who knows. In the meantime, do me a favor a click on thast SEXY REVIEW BUTTON and review.

~Blackbowtielily