You worked at an exclusive restaurant that served only the best food, and served only the best people in the grand capital city of London.

Chandeliers hung, and women with Chanel dined. Christmas trees and an abundance of lights decorated the large room. Wreaths and garlands covering staircases and walls.

Early into the evening you were already exhausted, it was a few days after Christmas and you were already back at work. Your fault I suppose, you offered to do extra shifts.

You had the white shirt on, with sleeves rolled up to just before your elbows, hair in a loose ponytail and pieces framing your face. Some black leggings and the mini apron, that looked a little like a miniskirt. It was busy tonight.

He was working tonight. James. The man you hopelessly loved. Loves as a friend. Nothing more. Or do you told yourself. He was walking briskly past you beside other waiters and his hands fell to your waist as he slid past you, offering you a handsome smile. The smile that made you weak in the knees.