I've Just Seen A Face (Paul McCartney Love Story)

I've Just Seen A Face (Paul McCartney Love Story)

Yo peeps, just making a story. Enjoy; I hope X)

Beginning Scene
Time: Feb. 1963, near the time they were recording Please Please Me
Where: London

Chapter 1

I Saw Her Standing There

It all started on one of my fine morning strolls I take every morning before work. My hair was braided back in it's usual style, with a big lacey bow in my hair, and I was trying to ignore the ruckus of traffic here in London. I mean, morning stolls were a lovely positive, but the noise was just horrible to me; other than that, I loved London. Always full of action, new people to meet everyday.

I looked at the time, and made my way to the bakery for which I worked for. I wanted to be a pastry chef or bake cakes for people, so I decided to start small while I was in college and work my way up to my prefered career.

We are supposed to open up soon,in about an hour or so, so I decided to prepare some of the doughs and mixes for later. I grabbed the sugar, flour, fruits, and other ingredients necessary for the sweets. Then my boss walks in, usually not a good sign unless you want a lecture. He started to rant about how I forgot to unlock the front door and turn on our "Open" sign. "I'm sorry," I apologize. "It won't happen again Daddy." Oh yeah, my boss is my dad; he then grumbles under his breath, turns around, and trudges towards his office real quick. That man can be such a grump sometimes!

As I'm starting a batch if brownies, the front door bell rings, and I couldn't go assist them right away. Five or ten minutes go by, and I rush to the front of the store; decorated with flour and chocolate all over my apron, with a little dabs on my face.

"Welcome to The Family Corner Bakery, how may I help you?" I put on a soft smile for the four young men in front of me. Two of them order some breakfast sweet rolls, then the other two ordered nothing. I told them the price, they handed me their money, and walked off. I thought nothing of it, and I'd later find out that I should've been more alert that day...

The next day, however was more busy, as monday usually was. We had people coming in, getting breakfast, and going back out just as fast. It felt a little more busier than normal; our bakery was like bees to honey. Once it died down around more around noon to afternoon, those four young men dropped by, and bought some sweets. "Here you go, sir." I handed them the little bag full of their delicacies. "Thank you, love." The one who grabbed it winked, and they walked off.

I stood there a liittle bewildered, and then the bark of my dad snapped me out of it. After I thought about it, it wasn't a surprise, I mean, people say I'm very attractive; long curly brown hair, soft skin, cheeks sprinkled with freckles, striking blue eyes. I didn't even talk much, people just seemed to want to talk to me.

Over the week, the four boys came in for either lunch or breakfast. Sometimes it was all four of them, sometimes it was just a couple of them, sometimes it was just that one. I kind of caught on to what was happening, but didn't really take any heed to it.

The one day that stood out to me was when it was just the winking young man, that's what I called him since I didn't know his name, came into the bakery alone. Not too unusual. "Would you like your usual?" I figured out a little pattern on what they each got, so I knew excatly what this one would order. "No thank you, love."

I was almost off into my little dream land, but then I assertively said, "Stop calling me that. Do you even know my real name?" I challenged, and leaned on the counter patiently. "No, but I'd like to." He smiled sweetly, and I almost did, but caught myself. "It's Eloise. Eloise Harisson." I told him simply, and waited for him to introduce himself. "What a coincidence, I know a lad by that surname."

"So, what's your name, sir?" I finally asked. "It's Paul, McCartney." I, finally satisfied, questioned him again. "If you didn't want anything to eat, then what did you come here for? I'm sure you didn't come here just for my name, right?" My left brow raised with skepticism, and awaiting an answer. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." Paul smiled, and I just wiped the flour off of my hands to my apron.

"Well, if you don't mind, I must go and work on some cookies." I started to turn to open the door that was for the back, where the ovens and other tools were. "Wait." My head turned, and so did the rest of my body. I leaned against the door frame. "What?" "I should take you to lunch sometime." Palu put on that smile, the one I could never resist. "Um, sure." I fiddled with my apron, feeling the blood rush to my freckle-riddened cheeks. "How about tomorrow?" I nodded sheepishly, and he looked a little more relieved. "See you then, love." He headed out the door before I could tell him to stop calling me that.

I had a date tomorrow evening, my first date ever.

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