Chapter Five

One thing Marcella hated was annoying and rude customers. It messed with her mood. No matter what she did, there would always be one customer that got on her nerves every morning; it was like a curse.

Today it happened to be Dean Smith. The blonde college jock with a brain so empty, she was sure it made a hollow sound when tapped. 

He entered the shop with a snarl on his lips, and she could almost see the dark energy he brought along with him. It's like his pitch-black aura was determined to ruin her Monday.  

"Tea. Peppermint," he said, not even acknowledging her.  'What happened to: Hi, Good morning, Could I please have.' She thought.

"We just ran out, I'm afraid," the most insincere smile edged on her lips. That was a lie, of course. Her boss ordered it over the weekend and it had just been delivered before the shop opened.  

"What?" His eyebrows pulled together in distaste.  

"I said—" 

"I know what you said. I'm not deaf," he let out a low laugh,  "How come you don't have peppermint tea? What a joke." 

It felt more like a rhetorical question to Marcella, "Our stock ran out just five minutes ago. We do have, however, black, earl gray, camomile…" 

"I don't remember asking to be lectured on the kinds of tea," he replied pompously.

 "What are these?" he lazily pointed to the pastries on the showcases.  

"We have blueberry and pumpkin scones. Chocolate, hazelnut, and pistachio croissants—" 

"What type of chocolate?" He inquired, his tone dripping in boredom. There was already a long line of customers behind him cursing under their breath at the amount of time he was wasting, but he couldn't care less. He was an egotistical bully, a spoilt brat and he was getting on her last nerves.

"Milk," she answered flatly, feeling bad for the customers behind him. She hated to make them wait because of some spoiled prick.  

"That's it?" He exclaimed in a disdainful tone.  

"Yes, that's it. Is there anything you decided on?" 

"I can't believe you only have milk chocolate. What about white and dark chocolate?" 

"It's not a common request we receive from our customers," she narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her smile, but she could feel it slipping away, "We do however offer dark chocolate eclairs if it's something you'd like."

"A what?" He had heard her clearly. She was sure of it.  

"Eclairs," she said slowly as if teaching it to a new born.  

"What? Do you mind saying it a little clearer?" Her face was an inch away from turning scarlet. She drew a deep breath, loud enough that only she could hear.  

"Ec—lair," she couldn't have articulated it in a more extreme and slow fashion. 

" Oh ! You mean éclair, " he corrected her matter-of-factly.  

"That's what I said," she retorted, not holding back.  

"Not exactly," he countered, "But, no, I'm not interested in your poor selection of pastries." 

"Come on, boy. Just get something or get out of the way. We ain't got all day." the man standing behind him growled.

 Dean turned around with a sour expression plastered on his face, "I am not going to be rushed," he replied flatly, "and let's get one thing straight, I'm not your boy." 

An argument ensued and Marcella pressed her lips, trying to fight back the laughter that threatened to burst out of her caused by the two customers already yelling at each other. Serves him right.

"Marcie, I'm so sorry I'm late! I missed the bus and had to run down here as fast as I could."

She turned around to see her coworker Ruth panting while leaning on her knees. Her shift ended fifteen minutes ago but she couldn't leave the counter empty so she had no choice but to wait.

"I totally understand. Besides, it's unlike you to come late to work. You're lucky the boss is not around."

Ruth gave her a conspiratory grin as she tried to tie on her apron. "That'll be 10 dollars of your wages for coming in two seconds late!" She mimicked in a deep gruff voice.

They both burst out laughing as Marcella left the counter and hurriedly went to pick up her backpack and go for her first class of the day.

As she left the coffee shop and slowly approached the college she couldn't help but slip into a daydream about the insanely hot stranger who helped her out the week before at the bar.

She had been having very exciting and disturbing fantasies about him all weekend recalling his penetrating deep set grey eyes, straight nose and defined cheekbones which made him look like he was carved out of marble. His lips? God… his pink lips looked so sensual and his dark lazy locks? She was screaming so loud internally she could faint.

It had been her first night working there and she had felt very nervous. Seeing the attire she was meant to wear while serving had also made her quite self conscious. It consisted of a short black leather skirt and a scanty white top.

Her clumsiness which led to her getting saved by the dark haired Adonis had been plaguing her dreams since she met him. The memory of his husky voice as he helped her overcome her incoming panic attack still sent pleasant tingles down her spine.

He looked like he could snap her in half without even trying and she blushed at the morbid thought. She'd hoped to run into him again but she didn't. Maybe he wasn't a regular at the bar.

She was sure he wouldn't give her a second glance on a normal day. She with her crazy hair, freckled face and small chest. Feeling herself starting to get depressed she hurried along into the corridor that led to her class. 

Glancing at the wristwatch on her hand, she saw that it was nine fifty. That meant she could settle down and compose herself before the class began.

They were having a new history professor as the former one recently retired. History classes were usually boring and she hoped whoever the new Professor might be, he or she would try to make it enjoyable. 

Going to the far corner of the class, she grabbed an empty seat and sat down to bring out all her writing materials. 

"I heard the new Professor is the sexiest man you'll ever meet." Bella Brown was gossiping just a few seats ahead with her clique who were gushing like premature teenagers.

"He's also the youngest Professor in the history of the school. Other students who have seen him can't seem to concentrate in class." She said with her annoying bimbo voice.

Bella Brown was her nemesis you see. It also didn't help that she had an uncanny resemblance to a barbie doll. She was the embodiment of everything Marcella hated, and also hoped to be.

The class doors fell open and she was snapped out of her thoughts when the new Professor stepped in and walked to the front of the class in a grey suit. There was something familiar about him, she thought as she stared at his back while he went up to the whiteboard to write out his name.

Professor Lucas Blackwood. 

He turned around to face the class and Marcella stopped breathing. It was him. Her new History Professor was the hot stranger who saved her in the bar.