I walked into the store. I was instantly greeted by the smell of newly published books. God, I love that scent. The place was moderately crowded. No one seemed to have recognized me yet. I looked around for any employees, someone who could guide me to my destination. I spotted a few, but they all seemed to be busy with other customers. Oh well. I would just have to find the book I was looking for myself. Not a big deal.
I began to walk around between the shelves, exploring the titles. It took me a while to find the area that housed the genre I was looking for. Once there, I analyzed the alphabetical order all the books were in.
“If D is here,” I mumbled to myself, “then E must be—”
“I was just a few minutes late.”
The voice was that of a female. I turned and looked around to see where it was coming from. I saw the heads of two people in the next row over. One male. One female. I instantly started to take in the scene. If you want to be a good politician, you have to be a master at knowing what’s going on between people just by looking at them.
I put my skills to the test. Judging by the plastic name tags they were both wearing like necklaces, and the age difference between them, as well as their body language, I guessed that the man was the manager of the store. The woman was one of his employees.
The rest filled itself into the blanks. She was a little late to get to work. And he wasn’t happy about it. Punctuality is something I can appreciate as an Englishman. If you’re late to work, expect to be reprimanded.But not like this. No, this guys’s tone was starting to get more and more agitated. He was acting like she just run over his grandma. So she was late. Dock her pay and move on. No need to completely humiliate her. Several times the woman opened her mouth to say something, but the man cut her off. He wasn’t yelling, but I had a feeling the only reason he wasn’t is because he didn’t want to make a scene in front of the customers. Neither of them had noticed my presence yet. I could see the side of the woman’s face. She was barely keeping her anger at bay. The fear of being fired was the only thing stopping her from speaking out. This was turning into bullying. I had to step in. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself, but something had to be done. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just allowed this to continue. Little did I know that my life was about to change forever.
Mr. Prescott is a standalone New Adult Romance novel told entirely from the point of view of the male lead.
About the Author
I’m a guy who likes to cut right to the chase, so here we go: I’m a male author of Romance/Erotica novels that are told entirely from the POV of the male protagonist. If you enjoy happy endings and steamy tales about people falling in love quickly, my stories are for you.