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Arthur normally didn’t eat fast food. But he’d woken up late and hadn’t packed a lunch and his receptionist had cut him off from the mints.
His stomach felt like it was eating itself and this line wasn’t helping. He checked his phone. His father needed him to hire a new PR rep.
The person ahead of him finally finished and he stepped up to the register, “Can I get the number three with extra pickles?” What the hell had been wrong with the old PR rep? Sure, he’d been a little gentle, but not ineffective.
“Would you like a little extra pickles or a lot of extra pickles?”
He looked up and his breath caught in his throat. The man was beautiful. Thick dark hair and the bluest eyes in the world.
In that instant, he forgot every word in the English language.
The man was still staring at him questioningly.
Arthur came back to himself, “What?”
“Would you like a lot of extra pickles or a few?”
“A lot.” He croaked out.
“Great. Would you like a drink?”
Arthur went breathless for a minute, “I’d love one.”
The man stared at him, “I mean...with the meal?”
Sheer humiliation shot through him, “Oh. Oh right. No, that’s okay.”
“That will be $4.13.”
Arthur fumbled for his wallet and all the time the man was staring at him. His cheeks were flaming. Just get through this, he told himself, and you’ll never have to see this person ever again. And he’d never ever get fast food again just to make sure of it.
The man gave him his change and Arthur hurriedly tried to stuff it into his wallet. He wished the Earth would rise up and swallow him. And then-
“I would like a drink. If you’re free, that is.”
Arthur’s eyes shot upwards, “I’d...i’d like that.”
“Cool. Here’s my number. My name’s Merlin.”
“Arthur.” He replied, “My name’s Arthur.”
“Nice to meet you Arthur.” Merlin winked, “I hope to see you later.”