My mum always told me that everything in life requires self-control and self- discipline, especially when you are provoked. I\'ve always prided myself as someone who has an enormous amount of self-control-it comes with the territory, especially when you work at a diner. You encounter all sorts of personalities, most are friendly while some are downright rude.

Hence, it boils down to the million dollar question: Do you or do you not punch them in the face?

\'\'Oops, I\'m so sorry Melody, my hands must\'ve slipped,\'\' she says whilst trying to disguise her laughter."

If this is payback, she just messed with the wrong Melody.

My beautiful uniform, which consists of a white shirt and a high-waist black skirt was covered in the cool red liquid. Now the right thing to do is to walk out of the line of provocation and cool off at the back, right?.

Well, wrong.

I\'m tired of Mariah thinking it\'s okay to bully people jus because she\'s the self proclaimed Queen of Adelaide.

She needs to get a very bitter taste of her own medicine.

So what do I do next?

Pour lemonade all over her of course.

Am I petty? Definitely.

Do I care? Not in the least bit.

What did the bottle Blonde do?

Scream like a little whimp.

\'\'Oh I\'m sorry Mariah, my hand must\'ve slipped. Here, let me get you a paper towel.\'\' I hand her the paper towels on the table and try to \'help\' her wipe off the liquid from her million dollar dress. She yanks the towels from my hand and screams at Jason to help her.

Just when I think I\'m in the clear and she wouldn\'t make an unnecessary scene...

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.....

\'\'YOU LITTLE CHURCH RAT. HOW DARE YOU?\'\' she lunges at me but Bea holds her back before she can sink her claws in my skin. People at the diner stop what they are doing, now interested in the movie scene playing right before their eyes.

\'\'YOU POURED LEMONADE ALL OVER ME AND YOU\'RE STANDING THERE SMILING! ARE YOU..."

"Hey, what seems to be the problem?"

"The problem is, your little employee is clearly incompetent. She intentionally threw lemonade on my Chanel dress to humiliate me and she refuses to apologize! I mean, why would you hire such people who refuse to acknowledge that the customer is right at all times? She needs to be fired right now.\'\'

Malibu Barbie did not just go there!

Bob gives me a questioning look but I just shrug it off and give Mariah a very sarcastic apology.

\'\'Miss, I\'m so sorry for this unfortunate accident. Tell you what? Your meal, as well as that of your friends, is on the house.\'\' They all cheer and give each other high-fives. I don\'t blame them though. Who can deny free food?

\'\'Fine, but we\'re taking it to go, right Jay Jay? I turn to look at the chestnut-haired boy who has been surprisingly quiet this whole time. He has an unreadable expression on his face and I honestly don\'t know if it is a good thing or not. I prefer it when he\'s insulting me not when he\'s radio silent. It\'s unsettling.

\'\'Let\'s go, Mariah.\'\' Jason gives me one last look, before dragging Mariah out of the restaurant. The rest follow suit and I let out a breath I didn\'t know I was holding.

Hope they never come back.

\'\'Melody, a word in my office. You know the way.\'\' Bob says with a stern look on his face.

Great. Thank you Mariah and friends.

I take slow strides down to his office because I honestly don\'t want to be there. The last time I was there was when I was on my knees, begging him to hire me.

\'\'Have a seat.\'\' I sit down on the plush leather couch and observe my surroundings. Have to admit, Bob really did a good job with his office because it\'s different from what I remember. Ash coated walls with a floor to ceiling window facing the woods, a mahogany desk housing his HP laptop, a notebook and a stack of files and papers. On the left corner, the air conditioner is on full blast and a swivel chair stands tall in the middle of the office space.

He sits down on the table facing me and looks at me intently, legs crossed and arms folded on his chest. \'\'Explain.\'\'

\'\'Bob, look,\'\' I point to my ruined outfit. \'\'It really isn\'t my fault. As you can see, I\'m soaked in Cramberry juice and I look like a human panini. That little witch named Mariah and I attend the same school and she hates me for no apparent reason. She has made it her life\'s mission to make my life a living hell just \'cause she\'s a miserable person. So, I decided to give her a taste of her own medicine which I have to admit was a bit immature but you can\'t....\'\' he cuts me off mid-rant by planting his perfect lips on mine.

That\'s more like it.

The kiss is tender at first but it becomes heated pretty quickly. His left hand grips my braids tightly while the other lifts me up on the table effortlessly.

He bites my bottom lip, his tongue begging to be allowed in. I moan, letting his hands trace the curves of my body. Kissing him is like heaven, and every single time, he manages to leave me begging for more, like a greedy child itching for more cookies.

I\'ve always wondered what it\'d be like to be with him, but I know I\'m getting way ahead of myself.

I\'m not even his girlfriend.

We detach our lips, lungs gasping for air as we look at our surroundings, almost forgetting that we are at the diner. His muscular hands encircle my waist while I wrap my hands around his neck.

\'\'Damn, so you missed me that much?\'\'

\'\'You\'re cute when you\'re ranting, but I really just wanted you to shut up so I can kiss you. I saw everything that happened back there and I know she was the aggressor. I\'m not going to punish you...severely."

Severely?

My right hand caresses the plane of his face and I give him a light peck on the lips.

\'\'Does it mean I\'m off the hook?\'\'

He throws his head back laughing. "Get out of my office."

With a happy heart and a flushed face, I get off his lap and make my way to the door. \'\'You\'re not getting your bonus this week,\'\' he yells and I narrow my eyes.

Thank you, Mariah Laughlin.

.....

Bob and I first met a year ago at one of the hottest night clubs in our town-Club Scandal.

So what is Miss lily-livered doing at a club? Let\'s take a trip down memory lane.

A YEAR AGO

\'\'MEL, MEL, MEL!\'\' I heard my auburn-haired best friend calling my name from across the hallway.

"Paris,\'\' I reprimanded. It\'s a little too early to be screaming."

She laughed and put her hands on my shoulder as we walked to Calculus. "So my parents have been out of town for a while and I was wondering if you wanted to check out this new downtown club.Rumour has it, they\'re giving out free booze and there\'s a celebrity resident DJ who\'s amazing. I have VIP passes so we won\'t be disturbed. You coming?\'\'

\'\'No\'\'

She stopped dead in her tracks and whined like a little child. \'\'Why not?\'\'

\'\'Paris, we are sixteen. Since when do sixteen year-old\'s go to clubs?\'\'

\'\'Since forever,\'\' she says in a \'duh\' tone. \'\'Almost everyone at school goes clubbing. It\'s not like they\'re going to announce it or put it like a tramp stamp on their forehead.\'\'

\'\'Regardless, my answer is still no.\'\'

You\'re so not fun and always uptight. Seriously Mel, when was the last time you let loose and actually had fun?"

"Rude! I have fun.\'\'

She raised a perfect eyebrow at me, \'\'Your definition of fun is babysitting Sophie and watching re-runs of Friends on Showmax. That\'s not fun, that\'s being a grandma and you\'re too young for that. At this rate, you\'d never have a boyfriend, or get married and then you\'d be a miserable cat lady like Miss Jenkins, my neighbour. I mean yea, she\'s rich and all but she\'s so cranky.\'\'

\'\'A club is supposed to help me get a boyfriend?\'\'

She paused. \'\'That\'s besides the point. I want you to have fun.\'\'

\'\'Hypothetically, if I agree, would you stop nagging?\'\'

\'\'I do not nag.\'\'

\'\'Yea, yea.\'\' i looked at the time on my watch. \'\'Come on, we\'re late for class.\'\'

\'\'Is that a yes?\'\' she asked, eyes hopeful.

\'\'It\'s a maybe.\'\'

The real issue was how to get out of the house. I hated the fact that I had to lie to my mother about my whereabouts, but Paris was right. I really needed to let loose, even if it meant being an irresponsible teenager that may more than likely die from alcohol poisoning.

I\'d never been to a club before, never had a fake ID and sure as hell didn\'t have a \'club appropriate\' outfit, but I left that to the expert-Paris.

..........

\'\'You\'re not twenty-one, are you?\'\' I turned to the voice who was speaking to me, a man, who looked to be in his early twenties. From what I could make out, he had dark shoulder length hair which was packed into a bun along with a light stubble on his face. He was handsome, extremely handsome, and I\'m not talking about Ryan Gossling handsome, I\'m talking sculpted by the Greek gods mixed with a little bit of James Dean handsome to be more precise.

Paris and I made it to the club with the fake ID\'s she had procured. It was a lot easier to convince my mum to let me out of the house than i had originally thought-all I had to do was say I had a school project with Paris which required immediate attention because it counted for 50% of our grades. Once we got to Club Scandal, Paris immediately went to the dance floor while I went to the bar.

"Really, how so?\'\' I questioned with as much confidence as I could muster, despite the fact that I was lying through my teeth.

\'\'You\'ve been sitting on the bar stool for about twenty minutes, watching people dance. Also, you\'ve been nervously holding your ID, which, I assume is fake, almost like you\'re afraid to order a drink.\'\'

I gave him my best smile in order to disguise my apprehension. One can never be too careful these days. "Either you\'re a stalker or you\'re just really nosy. Either way, I\'m not interested.\'\'

A low chuckle fell from his lips and he surveyed my outfit, not in a sexual way, but more of a you\'re-not-who-you-say-you-are way. The neon lights of the club danced around the area and the music was turned up a notch as sweaty bodies were dancing on the floor.

"I\'m definitely not a stalker, I swear,\'\' he teased. "But I happen to be a very observant person, and you seem interesting enough, so what\'s your story?\'\'

I gave the handsome stranger an incredulous look. \'\'I don\'t have a story.\'\'

\'\'Everyone who comes to Club Scandal has a story. Been going to clubs long enough to know that we all have one- cheating boyfriend, obsessive girlfriend, divorcee, high school student...\'\', he said that part looking directly at me. \'\'My point is we all come here to forget something going on in our personal lives, so again, what\'s your story?

The way he saw through my façade was scary. How he looked at me like he knew my life history was incredibly unsettling, yet sexy at the same time.

\'\'Bartender, may I have a shot of tequila." If I was going to survive this night and his questions, I might as well have a little liquor courage.

\'\'Rum and cola, please,\'\' I heard him order beside me. \'\'I\'ll pay for both.\'\'

\'\'So a handsome stranger pays for my drink, despite the fact that he thinks I\'m underage.\'\' The bartender served our drinks and I threw my head back and doused the liquid in one gulp, almost gagging because of how bitter it tasted. \'\'How ethical.\'\'

He laughed heartily and took his drink in one gulp too. \'\'So you think I\'m handsome?\'\'

\'\'That\'s the only thing you got from that?\'\'

\'\'Well, yea, I mean you\'re pretty so I\'m duly flattered.\'\'

On the Floor by Jenifer Lopez blasted through the speakers and I got excited. I loved the song so much, plus I felt like dancing, and since I\'m in a club, then why the heck not? I really didn\'t know if it was liquor courage or I was being extremely brave but I asked, \'\'Hey stranger, wanna dance?\'\'

\'\'Sure.\'\'

I grabbed \'handsome stranger\'s\' hand and pulled him to the dance floor which was packed with people. He got behind me and wrapped his strong arms around my waist, his cologne hitting my nose heavily as I breathe in his delicious scent.

\'\'So stranger, do you normally dance with random girls at a club or is this a one-off kinda thing?\'\'

\'\'I\'m a guy, if a pretty lady wearing a killer jumpsuit asks you to dance, you dance.\'\'

\'\'So you don\'t think I\'m underaged?\'\'

\'\'Club Scandal wouldn\'t let an underaged person in. Company policy.\'\'

Okay then.

The DJ switched the song to Beyonce\'s Partition and I squealed out loud.

\'\'You like?\'\' He asked from behind me.

\'\'Literally, this is my favourite song.\'\'

I grinded into his firm frame, while his hands explored my body. Soft, pink lips found the nape of my neck and planted butterfly kisses all over. I had no idea if a wizard put a potion in my tequila because I really was not myself that night.

\'So tell me beautiful, what\'s your name?\'\' he whispered in my ear, whilst still holding my waist, almost for dear life. I debated on whether to tell him my real name or not but I decided to stick to a fake one. Stranger Danger

\'\'Name\'s Lianna.\'\' Technically, I didn\'t lie because my middle name is Lianna but he didn\'t need to know that.

I turned around and wrapped my hands around his neck. Our bodies moved in perfect sync, almost like they were made for each other. He lowered his head and pressed his forehead against mine. Liquor coated eyes drank in my lips as he had an internal battle with himself.

I bit my bottom lip and looked at him through my lashes. \'\'Just do it.\'\'

With a sigh of relief, he cupped my face in his hands and captured my lips with his.