A/N = Do not own anything. Just my imagination. Mistakes are mine.
Can't seem to stop myself with this one.
Reviews are like water. I'm a little thirsty.
The sky is in turmoil. Dark clouds are tumbling over one another in a race to reach the horizon. There's a slight chill to the evening despite the humidity - the atmosphere prickling with the essence of an impending presence. It sends my senses into a heightened state. Street lights are flickering, the leaves rustling against the hard concrete of the grounds. The sound of laughter far off in the distance. The stadium is quiet, save the few souls left to clean up after the crowds. I found myself unable to leave despite knowing I should have. The image of the blonde walking away from me at the forefront of my thoughts. I feel a tug inside of me. A familiar ache stirring. My eyes close at the memory.
—
I take a deep breath and check my watch. 12:03pm. That wasn't so bad. My first shift at the cafe was pretty uneventful. The manager was kind enough to show me the ropes and it didn't take me long to get the hang of it all. Despite being a newbie at working some of the fancy contraptions I was certainly not new to the concept of coffee. Sure it took me a few tries to get into the rhythm of things but my natural charm and easy going nature had me at ease with the job and the customers in no time. Soon enough it was lunch time and I was happy to be leaving. I was given the early morning shift as it was the best time for me to train. I was only starting off part time, so the rest of the day was mine. Grabbing my phone and jacket, I wave goodbye to the boss and the lingering patrons and step out the door.
Being a Saturday afternoon, the city is bustling with activity. It's a comforting feeling. I have always loved the city, something about being surrounded by lots of people, doing lots of different things. I like to people watch and wonder what everybody else's life is like. Not that I have much to complain about in my own life. I've just always been a bit of a curious cat. I tend to keep myself to myself but I still like to venture out and see new things and meet new people. It's just sometimes people don't want to meet me. They always seem to judge the book by its cover but hey, it's their loss.
I put my arms in my jacket and step onto the street, pulling out my phone to check for any messages. The screen flashes 3 different names; the first one is my ma -
Good luck on your new job sweetie. You will do great! Just make sure you smile at your customers. Nobody likes a grumpy server! - Ma xxx
The second is from my brother -
Don't screw this one up Janie. I fully expect free refills for the foreseeable future. - Frankie x
And the last one from Maura -
Hey, hope your first shift is going great. Did you know that in 1675, the King of England banned coffee houses, claiming they were places where people met to conspire against him? How very vain of him. You will be finished soon. You wanna meet at Riverhill for lunch? :) - M xx
The fun fact makes me smile. I can always count on Maura to give me a daily dose of necessary unnecessary information. My very own googlemouth.
I quickly reply a short thanks to the first two, deciding to keep the chat to a minimum as I'm sure I will be hijacked by them at some point. But I stop to think of my reply to the last message.
Riverhill is good for me. Work was work. Although some of the elderly customers certainly looked like they were hatching conspiracies. Maybe they knew the King of England? See ya in 10. - J xx
I put my phone back in my pocket and head towards the crossing. I would need to cut across the park if I was to make it to Riverhill in 10 minutes. Lucky for me, I have a decent stride thanks to my tall stature. I get to the coffee shop with a minute to spare.
This is my favourite hangout - it's small and relatively unknown so it doesn't get too busy. The room is long and not very wide, barely enough space for the bar and the thin wooden countertop with barstools that run parallel to it. It is decorated in mostly dark wood and stone, giving it a little bit of a rustic cabin feel. A narrow spiral staircase down to the staff area completes the room. Maybe 6-8 people tops can fit in here. Nice and cosy, or quaint as Maura likes to call it. There's only one other person sitting down so there's plenty of stools available. I take the ones at the far end, near the stairs and take off my jacket.
One of the best things about this place is the board outside - it always has some witty comment or pun that brightens up my day whenever I see it. Today it had an arrow pointing to the entrance that said 'coffee and cakes' and another arrow pointing to the street saying 'bears and lions, I don't know, I wouldn't risk it'. It had made me chuckle on my way in and I was just contemplating which of the two, a bear or a lion, I would have a greater chance of survival with when a tinkling of the door bell catches my attention.
The door opens and a small blonde figure steps in, hair slightly windswept but still perfectly framed around her face. She glances at her surroundings briefly before flashing a dazzling courtesy smile at the barista behind the bar. The air around me feels different all of a sudden. Goosebumps appear on my arms but I'm not sure of their cause. Maybe it was from the gust of wind when the door opened. The blonde catches my eye and a noise that sounded very much like a whimper echoes in my head. Yeah, it must have been the wind.
Before I know it, the beautiful and slender body of Maura Isles glides up right in front of me. My mouth goes a little dry as I am mesmerised by the sway of her hips, my eyes appreciatively drinking up every single detail - from the way her feet balance on those high heels, the way her arm is clutching at her designer purse over her shoulder, the curve of her collarbone to her neck and the way her hair is flipped over to one side, exposing the smooth, sun-kissed skin. I don't think I've even blinked since she walked in and when my eyes finally reach up to meet those gorgeous hazel eyes of hers, I realised that this would be a good time to stop ogling my best friend.
It takes me a second to notice that I'm being stared at too, her eyes sparkling with a little mirth, mimicked by the slight smirk of her mouth. A feverish blush creeps up my neck and warms my cheeks as I realise I have been caught in the act. Smooth Rizzoli.
"Is this seat taken?"
Not trusting my mouth to do anything its told at the moment, I decide to play it safe and just shake my head in sheepish silence.
