Croissants and Jam Read Online Free PDF Page A

customer well-being as our top priority.’
    What the hell does he mean by customer well-being ? I am getting so stressed trying to get to sodding Rome that I may also have a heart attack. Some customer well-being.
        ‘Classic,’ I mumble.
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
        So here we are, or at least here I am, at another bloody airport. The place is packed and there is not a solitary seat to be found. I fish my mobile from my bag to text Simon but find I have no signal. To top it all I am now somewhere in bloody France. I check the time on my phone. Bugger, if I am lucky I will make it with about fifteen minutes to spare. What a bloody first impression this is going to make. God, I am so thirsty but I cannot face the queues.
        ‘Hey, Rescue Remedy ,’
    Oh no. Please God, not him. I pretend to ignore him and trundle towards the flight board.
        ‘Buy you a coffee?’ he persists.
    I turn and see him. My God, the guy is the ultimate human dustbin. He has a large plate of croissants and jam.
        ‘Join me. I can’t eat all this myself.’ He points to a chair.
        ‘I am sure you will manage to force it down,’ I retort scornfully, while staring enviously at his coffee.
        ‘You surely aren’t bearing a grudge are you? Come on, there is nowhere else to sit.’ He is leaning back in his chair and carefully replacing a newspaper on a stand behind him. His jeans hug his thighs and I try not to look. His eyes beckon me. He is right of course. The place is packed, hot and noisy. Reluctantly I head towards him. The truth is I am so desperate for a coffee I would have sold my soul to the devil to get one. I squeeze past customers coming out of the café and sit down with a sigh and watch him spoon layers of jam onto a croissant.
        ‘You like croissant with your jam then?’ I say sarcastically, pouring myself coffee from his coffee pot.
    He smiles and looks at me with that twinkle in his eye.
        ‘I thought you would be with your boyfriend,’ he says casually and then yawns.
    Honestly, I cannot recall meeting a more unpleasant person. I grab a croissant.
        ‘I already told you, he is not my boyfriend. I only met him on the plane,’ I say crossly.
        ‘Oh, so you did. I forgot.’ He pops a sugar cube into his mouth.
    Probably, you were too busy thinking of food, I think. I spoon a small amount of jam onto my croissant and realise that I am quite hungry. He leans back in his chair and watches me. I feel myself blush. He yawns, leaning further back. I notice his hair is expertly cut and in a style that suits him perfectly.
        ‘Sorry, late night last night and early flight from New York this morning. So, what’s your reason for going to Rome then?’ he asks yawning again.
    What a bloody cheek, as if it is any of his business and am just about to tell him so when some idiot pushes past my chair, knocking the croissant out of my hand and on to my blouse. Jesus, I really cannot believe this.
        ‘Oh God, now look, I can’t arrive in Rome like this,’ I fume.
    Unperturbed he pours more coffee and I have an overwhelming urge to throw mine over him.
        ‘The loo is just along there, can’t you wash it off?’ he says, casually pointing across the departure lounge.
    Really, it is only possible to feel contempt for such a moron.
        ‘This is an Yves Saint Laurent blouse, you know, you can’t just scrub away at it with soap.’ I do not even try to hide my contempt for him.
        ‘Yves Saint Laurent? Wow that is some blouse then.’
    I ignore his mocking tone and bite back the stinging comment I was about to make about his jumper when a muffled announcement drones from the public address.
        ‘Passengers for flight 735 to Rome, this flight will be re-boarding in forty-five minutes from gate two’
    Okay, there is time for me to wash the offending mark. I rush to the loo after making the human dustbin promise to