Girls in white vs girls in black

LEIA'S POV

"I'm sorry miss Summers, your work is great, but you do not have any relevant work experience for us to hire you" my interviewer said to me as I sat in his office.

"But you said my work is great " I defended

"Yes I know, but I am in no position to hire someone without the required qualifications. It's company's policy " he explained as tears gathered in my eyes.

This is the fifth rejection I'd be getting this month and I was beginning to get exhausted.

I picked up my bag and canvass, and then walked out of the building. How am I supposed to get work experience when no one is willing to employ me as an artist?

I walked away as I headed towards the coffee shop where I presently work.

“Good morning Mrs. Madison. Did you sleep well?” I greeted my employer hoping she wasn’t in a cranky mood.

“Hi Leia, yes I did,” she responded curtly, without asking about my own night.

Mrs. Madison, my employer, is a 60 years old woman that has a son named Carter, an asshole to be precise.

She owned a coffee shop, in Manhattan, New York where I worked from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. from Monday to Friday as a cashier.

The place was understaffed, so I often juggled multiple roles to keep the shop running smoothly. I did the waitressing, prepared the coffee, and sometimes cleaned the place after work.

Mrs. Madison wasn’t paying well but I still do all of these things, and yet she doesn’t even appreciate my efforts.

Her very nasty character is the reason why most of the employees stopped working with her. But I chose to stay since I haven’t been able to find something better.

I stashed my personal items into my locker and made sure everything was in order before any customer walked in.

To prepare for the first customer, I tied on my apron. I stepped behind the bar and switched on the electronic cash register alongside the coffee machines.

For a whole year, I had the privilege of learning how to prepare coffee from Lucia, who used to work here. She taught me the art of creating designs on the coffee and the techniques for preparing a good espresso.

I learned Lucia's complete guide to coffee, and I appreciated the time she invested in teaching me. Lucia was the best thing about this shop until she left.

The first customer was Ana, an old woman. She loves having her coffee at the shop. She always insisted I make her espresso, claiming I had a special way of making it and it tasted better than the ones she had ever tasted. She is a flatterer and a dear old soul.

More customers began to walk in , so I had to take their orders and have them prepared, keeping up with the rhythm of the early morning rush.

After attending to a lot of customers, to the point that I exhausted myself, I decided to take a quick break since it was almost time for lunch.

Carter walked right into the shop as I was having my lunch. He stared uncomfortably at me for a minute or two. Then he walked into his mum's office without a single word and I was left alone. What was that about?

After lunch, I went to the laundry room to wash all the napkins that coffee was spilled on. I heard the door close behind me and I looked back and saw it was Carter.

He had this salacious look in his eyes and he kept coming close till there wasn’t space between us.

“Hey Kitten, you look good today,” he remarked, rubbing his hands against his lips as he looked me up and down appreciatively.

This weirdo.

“ I told you not to call me that. What part of ‘I don’t like it’ don’t you understand?” I said to him not hiding my irritation.

“It’s not my fault you look so good, Leia. Only if you know what you do to me.”

“I don’t have time for this and I need to continue what I’m doing,” I replied, trying to maintain my distance.

“No one is stopping you, ” he retorted.

With that, I left his side and continued with my tasks, my back turned to him. I couldn’t see what he was doing but then I felt his hand grip my waist.

His proximity sent warm breaths against my neck. His hand moved to my breast, and instinctively, I gave him a swift strike to his groin. I heard him wail in pain.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled as he crutched low holding his daddy’s gift as he gritted his teeth in pain.

“There is more from where that came from. Just try me again, and you’ll see what I’m capable of. You’re messing with the wrong girl, “ I warned him.

Imagine having to deal with such harassment every day.