Her coffee was too hot. Amber sighed, folded her paper under her arm, and handed over the required change to the cashier at the train newsagent. The lady gave her a tired smile, worn out already in the morning rush despite that it was only seven o’clock.
Amber nodded and headed out of the store. Abruptly, she took a quick step back, holding her coffee away from her as someone in a rush almost ran into her.
Rolling her eyes, she took a careful sip of her coffee—still too hot—and looked both ways before attempting to exit the shop again.
At the platform, she checked her watch, still slowly sipping her coffee. Her train pulled in, the usual crowd pushing eagerly forward as the doors opened.
Amber held back, not keen to get squashed and stepped forward when the shoving crowd had settled down. She gave a little nod to the conductor, who waved back, before she was suddenly shoved sideways.
Coffee splattered down her front, and she yelped out a curse as it seared her chest. Frantically pulling the shirt away from her skin, she muttered out a sour ‘thanks’.
The young man who’d shoved her, cast her a sideways glance and sneered.
‘Why don’t you watch where you’re going, bitch,’ he snapped, before disappearing down the train aisle.
Amber stared after him, stunned at the reaction to something that had quite clearly been his fault. She scowled.
‘Are you alright Ma’am?’
She looked up into the face of the train conductor. She nodded, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ manner. He nodded and helped her onto the train. He was a big man, his hand engulfing her own easily, but his eyes were kind as he smiled at her.
‘Don’t let it get you down,’ he said.
She smiled. Once the train was on the move again, she pulled out her phone and called her assistant.
‘Hi Margaret,’ she said. ‘Can you duck down to the third floor and get me a new shirt.’
‘Sure, are you alright?’
‘Yes, just a little accident. Have any of the applicants turned up yet?’
‘Two.’
Amber sighed and nodded. ‘Alright, thanks. See you in a few minutes.’
She was three interviews in when her day brightened just that little bit. The door opened, and Margaret ushered in another applicant. Amber waited a moment before looking up. The applicant paused, halfway in the motion of sitting, and his face paled somewhat.
A sharp smile blossomed on her face. ‘Good morning,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I see you’re applying for our customer service job? What qualities do you think a person should present in a job such as this?’
The young man—the same young man who had knocked into her and called her a bitch not forty minutes ago—slumped slightly in his chair.
‘I’m not getting the job, am I?’ he mumbled, a flush of shame reddening his cheeks.
Her smile only widened.