Sometimes Being Late Works Out

"This is exactly what I needed today" I mutter. Hot liquid soaking the front of my brand-new blouse. "I'm sorry. Here, let me help you," he says, while holding out a hand to help me up. "I really didn't see you there. You came out of nowhere"

"Unless you have a woman's blouse hidden somewhere, I really don't see how you can help," I mutter, motioning to my top. "I'm already late to my interview. My shirt is ruined. And this has already been the worst day ever." I look up, realizing that I hadn't even seen the person who had just knocked me down, and dumped a whole cup of coffee on me in the process.

 Okay, I am a little less upset. This man is a perfection. Tall. Built. Dark. Sharp jawline. Wearing a very well-fitting suit. He looks like he could be on the cover of some kind of hottest bachelors' magazine.

I blush.

"I don't. But I can give you, my jacket? You seem to be really focusing on it." He smirked.

"What no. I uh, I wasn't. Never mind. It's just been a bad day and that just topped it off," I admit. "I shouldn't go around telling my whole life story. I think I'll just go home. I probably wouldn't have gotten the job anyways." I motion to the building doors just ahead of us. 

"That's where your interview was?" He asked.

"Yeah. I was really hoping to get this intern position. But if you can't tell," I motion to myself. "I am a mess, and this isn't even the half of it. So, it's probably better that I don't try to manage other people's lives."

He lets out a small chuckle. "If you want, we can go get coffee and you can tell me about it? I need a new one anyways." He smirks, glancing down to check his watch, he adds, "I have about a half hour to spare before heading to work. We could get coffee at the place around the corner."

***

"Okay, I have to admit that this coffee is pretty good. When it's not being poured all over me."

"It's pretty good? Don't you mean it's the best coffee around," He states. "And by the way, I didn't pour it on you, you ran right into it."

"If you say so."

"I do." He looks over at me. "So, tell me about how you ended up running into me this morning. Why were you running late?"

"Ugh, you walked right into me." He gave me a look. "Okay, so maybe I was running and maybe I did bump into you, but you didn't have to knock me down." I huff.

"That still doesn't tell me why you were late enough to your interview to be running through the streets bumping into people."

"You honestly wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me." He shrugged. "I bet it can't be that crazy."

"You'd be surprised."

"Try me."

I blushed. "Well, I sort of woke up on a canoe in the middle of the park."

"Uh huh. And how did you end up on the boat?"

"I just finished getting my business degree and am looking for a new job before I move out of my parents' house, and I have a younger brother." I shrugged. "He really likes to play pranks on me. I'm also a really heavy sleeper, so that just makes it easier for him."

"I know the feeling. But how did that make you late and ruin your day?" He laughs.

"Okay. Promise you aren't going to laugh?"

"I really can't."

"Okay, well... he didn't leave me with a paddle, so I tried to use my hands. That didn't work, so I tried to yell out for help. No one tried to help me, but people did start recording. I got frustrated and decided to roll out of the boat and swim. The boat tipped all the way over and caught my tank top. And my tank top ended up ripping. So, I was in the middle of the park, soaking wet, and holding my top up with my hand." I paused to take a drink of coffee. "And to make things even worse, a bird literally shit on my head."

He was full on laughing now.

"So, I walk back home. And when I get there, I realized that the door was locked. I'm half dressed, have bird shit in my hair, and I can't get inside. So, I decide to climb in through my bedroom window. And one of the neighbors called the cops."

"Okay, yeah. This is a little hard to believe."

"Trust me, I know."

"Yeah, so then I was getting ready to get in the shower, when someone knocks on the door. I'm not thinking anything of it. I grab my robe and go to see who it is. And it's a cop. He made me step outside. Shit still in my hair. And I'd also like to add that I had makeup on before the pond. So, it's all over my face. And I'm in nothing but my bath robe. It took a bit of convincing for the cops to believe me enough to let me go back inside to get my license to prove that I did indeed live there. And by then, I only had fifteen minutes to get ready."

"I think you should have still gone in and given it a try."

"Hey, then you wouldn't be sitting here with me."

"No, but I would hopefully still have heard all about your morning."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Anna, I think you would be perfect for the job."

"Wait, I didn't tell you, my name. Did I?" I stare at him.

"No, but it was in the interview file on my desk."

My eyes widened in horror.

"Oh my gosh. Wait, you're the guy I was supposed to meet with? Mr. Thorne. Like owner of Thorne Productions?"

"The one and only. And if you'd like the job, it's yours."

"Yes! I would love the job."