24 Haviland Street

Installment One

Clara pulled the heavy suitcase out of the trunk of her glistening sports car, moaning ever so slightly as she strained to lift it.

"Can I help you with that?" a passerby asked, moving his cigarette to his lips.

She watched for what seemed like a long time as he inhaled slowly, eyes intently burning into her own.  

"No, no, I have it," she said quietly in a feigned British accent.

"Well someone this beautiful shouldn't have to struggle with anything," he said slyly. His grin seemed to send shivers down her spine, as the attention of any attractive man did.

"Well, if you insist," she said with a smile.

The man reached forward and pulled the suitcase out with ease, gently brushing against Clara's tightly curved waist. His luxurious, dark brown hair was pulled back precariously, and a few small strands framed his chiseled face. She immediately noticed his cheekbones, how strong and prominent they were.

"There you are," he said flatly as he closed the trunk of her car.

"Thank you," she said softly. She looked down to the ground, and then lifted her eyes to meet his.

"Would you like me to help you carry this upstairs?" he asked with that same intoxicating smile.

"That would be wonderful," she crooned, gazing into his sparkling--

"CLARA! TABLE FOUR NEEDS YOU!"

The sounds of the bustling kitchen suddenly came crashing into the beautiful girl's ears, snapping her out of her reverie. She'd been sitting in the walk-in refrigerator atop a box of shredded cheese. The girl who had opened the door was the same age as Clara, but stress beyond her years showed on her face.

"I'll be there in a minute, Daisy," Clara replied. Her head between her hands, she looked as if she were about to cry.

"Well, they said they haven't seen you in almost 15 minutes, you need to get out there!"