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SIMONE TEACHES ME how to make a cupuccino. She looks behind me over and over and had I not known better — I would have looked too.

“This is his 1st time here. In fact — this is the 1st time someone as rich and famous as Salvatore LaGuardia has come to our café.” Simone explains. “This could be the BIG BREAK the café needs. In no time — fans and paparazzi will swarm this place. What did he order?”

“NOTHING.” I respond before she furrows her brows. I repeat it to her once more. “He ordered NOTHING.”

“WHY NOT? The aroma in this room is to die for. I will talk to him and see to it that he orders.” Simone makes up her mind as she places the Cupuccino on a tray.

I place a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “I do not think that is the best idea. He does not like to be controlled.”

“You would know this how?” Simone questions — her brows raised and her face twisted.

She tosses the curls of her hair aside and lowers her top so far down it shows her cleavage. “I have run this business and other businesses for almost a decade now. Trust me — I know what men like him like.”

I do not question her as she takes the tray and leaves. She is the boss and Salvatore is not mine. He belongs to that Blonde Girl now.

She is the complete opposite of me. An opposite I could never reach even if I tried. Where I have the brownest skin — she has the whitest skin.

Her hair, a smooth stream that gleams and glistens over her back like pools of golden sunshine.

Mine, a midnight nightmare of thick black curls and coils that spiral in all directions.

In my eyes is the colour of dirt.

In hers, a pool of ocean blues.

She is polished and well dressed. I am dressed in these servers clothes to serve her.

It makes me burn inside. It kills me to look at her. SO PRETTY. SO PERFECT.  

He took me to bed and left me to rot after. He takes her out on coffee dates and sits to chat with her.

While she smiles like an angel, I tear up and pick myself apart. Hating her for what she is, and hating myself for what I could never be.

A hand on my shoulder interrupts my thinking. I turn back and see Jasmine behind me; her smooth brunette hair caught in a low ponytail.

“Simone can be a bit much when it comes to her business.” Jasmine bites her bottom lip. “Do not mind her.”

I smile to mask how sad it all makes me before I respond. “Do not worry about it.”

Then I turn from her and retrieve a cloth to clean the mess left from the Cupuccino. A tear falls from my eye.

I wipe it but more tears come out and blur my vision. Oh God. I do not want anyone to see me like this.

Lowering my head, I rush to the toilets. I let it all out in one of the stalls. I do not know how much time passes but I know I took too long when Jasmine comes to check up on me.

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