17 Made Mistakes

⋆3༄ The King.

Afternoon my lovely readers! How are you? It's been a few days since I last updated but honestly, I hope the quality of the chapters will make up for it and so will the plot :) This is not the chapter that I was struggling with yesterday (that one I managed to finish today thanks to your encouragements!). Thank you so much for your support, thank you for waiting and being here! I hope you'll like the chapter ♡.

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As I jump out of the bus the Sun is still high above the horizon, looking like a beautiful, big sunflower painted on the turqouise infinity. The streets are busy with shoppers and diners, everyone going in their own direction.

I stride along one of the pavements, heading to the place that I don't particularly want to find myself at but I've got no choice. Regardless of the heat wave, something very untypical for England, I decided to wear a pair of black, casual jeans and a long-sleeve, white blouse. First impression matters the most and I really do not wish to ruin my plan — an attempt of getting a job — this time a normal, not demeaning one.

My mother meant what she said, and I know that either I earn my own money, or I can simply say goodbye to my summer. Without funds I won't be able to do anything fun, and that's what holidays are supposed to be about — lots of fun.

Having quelled my nerves, I push the door open and walk inside the Wildwood restaurant. Earlier this day during my shopping trip I had noticed their job offer and for some reason, after the quarrel that I had with my mother, I started to think that it must've been a sign that the universe was giving me.

With my palms starting to sweat I ignore the crowded area and pace towards the bar. As I fold my fingers and place my hands onto the shiny surface, a young, good-looking guy shifts his electrifying, blue eyes to me.

"Hi," he says, his voice deep but somehow soothing. "How can I help?" He shoots me his professional, sunny smile and thanks to his politeness — whether it's forced or not — the knots in my stomach momentarily untangle.

"Hi," I respond, nevertheless feeling my cheeks visibly warm up. "I saw that you're taking people on. I'm interested," I murmur, biting on my bottom lip as his confident, intense stare makes me feel somewhat intimidated.

"Oh, that's great." He smiles again, quickly, non-judgementally eyeing me up. "Let me get the manager," he adds, and after I nod my head understand, he promptly disappears into the depth of this crowded place.

Left on my own, I turn my head to the side and have a look at the surrounding me area. This place isn't the most sumptous one, but it's cosy and quite elegant. The smoked-glass lamps are hanging down from the high ceiling, illuminating the interior with their dim, however bright enough light, giving this eatery a very warm and friendly ambiance. There is rows of square, dark-wood tables set with blue napkins, shiny wine glasses and polished to perfection cutlery, grey sofas and chairs adjacent to each one of them. The bar that I'm standing at is partly filled with trays full of drinks that are ready to be taken to the guests. The floating shelves in front of me are bright, illuminated with neon-blue lights, successfully drawing my sight to them as if I was a human moth, dying for a drink.

"I'm really sorry for making you wait," I hear someone's voice beside me, and when I turn my head to the person speaking, a mid-age woman is smiling at me. "I'm Charlotte, the manager of this place," she says, extending her arm to greet me.

"Davina, nice to meet you," I respond in a full of confidence voice, gently squeezing her hand.

"So, Mason told me that you're looking for a job?" she questions, and my eyes involuntarily divert to the guy that I've just met.