Dear Mystery Guy

Della Gold details her life in a journal dedicated to a mystery guy she had only seen at her workplace but whom she felt curiously drawn toward.

When fascination turns into obsession she finds herself wanting to learn more about him but in her pursuit of the mystery guy she begins to learn more about herself and her mysterious past…

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Chapter One

Della Gold had one goal in the evening and that was to reach her workstation before her supervisor, Ted Nepaul, castigated her for being late once again. It was on days when she stepped in late that she wished she had a voice to explain herself: she had exams, the buses weren’t on time, her university campus was two buses away from Brick Place Supermarket.

She reached the parking lot out of breath. She had to make a mad dash from the bus stop to the supermarket and yet the staff entrance still seemed so far away.

The parking lot was partially full with vehicles and that meant trouble. There were several customers inside and Ted was one cashier short. She paused for a second to catch her breath and looked at her watch. The evening sun was still in that golden warm phase that made everything seem like it was painted gold.

She took a deep breath, and a part of her appreciated it but she had no time for whimsy; it was four-thirty. She was going to be in for a cussing. But a movement at the corner of her eye had her slowing down. She completely stopped when she saw who it was.

It was the mystery guy; her deep, dark secret crush, Mr. Gorgeous with the tightly curly hair and the light eyes. He was tall, about 6 feet, and had lean, well-developed muscles. He even looked as if he was glowing as the sun hit him, like he was in some invisible spotlight.

He only shopped at Brick Place Supermarket on Thursday evenings. She knew that because since she had been working at the supermarket for three months now, she had only seen him on Thursdays.

Today his hair was overly high and a bit unkempt, like he hadn’t brushed it or been to a barber. Her eyes ate him up in hungry fascination. His face was slightly bearded, like he had forgotten to shave for a day or two; he had a weary slump to his shoulders.

To her he was still the most gorgeous man on the planet, even when he looked as if he was off his game.

She wondered for the umpteenth time who he was. That’s all she had been wondering since she got the job and started seeing him at the supermarket. Surely he had to be a model or something.

He was perfect physically. She had seen good-looking guys before but she was never this unsettled by them. Patricia had a whole host of them in her family; the Benedicts were very good-looking people and yet she had never felt quite so thunderstruck.

There was just something about this guy that tugged at her subconsciously. The feeling was both unusual and scary at the same time.

He shut his car door, a late model SUV. It was the first time she had noticed what he drove. She had only ever seen him in the supermarket itself, not the parking lot. She glanced at his license plate number; it was easy to memorize: 9876 HZ.

He spun around to head into the supermarket and she lowered her eyes. She didn’t want him to find her devouring him like a starving junkie who needed a fix. She headed to the staff entrance swiftly. She was late now, really late.

Ted was standing in the staff area with her timecard in hand and he raised a brow.

She mouthed to him that she was sorry for being late but he still had that thunderous, ‘I am the boss you are going to be fired’ look on his face.

She signed sorry to him because he was not looking at her lips. She doubted that he understood sign language but she did it anyway. At least she hoped signing would engender some sympathy and wipe that terrible sneer from his face.

He looked at the movements of her hands suspiciously and then scoffed. “You are only here because of the grace of Patricia Benedict, or else I would fire you this minute. You do not know the meaning of punctuality. You believe that because you have connections with the owners, you can waltz in here at any time.”

Della felt like screaming at Ted that she was super sorry, but of course no sound would come from her dead voice box.

It would cost her thousands of dollars to work on her damaged larynx, and even then there was no guarantee that she would be able to talk again. She had long ago resigned herself to being voiceless.

Ted’s dislike of her stemmed from the fact that she couldn’t explain herself. He was not comfortable around any disability. He usually avoided anybody who was not ‘normal’ and now he was forced to work with her. It must be a great hardship for him, she thought sourly.

She had heard him refer to her as the dumb girl, and her scar offended him. He thought she looked like a criminal with it. His reasoning was ridiculous and over the top. She overheard him telling the store manager, Mr. Gentles, that she did not have the right appearance for a cashier; that somehow her scar sent the wrong message.

As if somehow the fading scar that ran from her left ear to her throat would in some way impede her from cashing people’s groceries.

On her first day he had asked her if she would consider wearing a scarf or a turtleneck blouse to hide it. “It would make customers more comfortable” had been his explanation.

She figured that it would make him more comfortable, not the customers, but she had started wearing her white turtleneck blouse to appease him and herself as well. She didn’t want to draw any undue attention to her scar, though it was fading and not as obvious as it used to be.

Sometimes people were curious and would ask her what happened. And of course she didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer, at least not verbally.

She reached for her timecard from Ted’s tight clutches.

“You listen to me,” he growled, “not another late day or you are gone.”

She nodded meekly, but she was feeling anything else but meek. She cursed him in her head while she punched in the time card, and she cursed him as she relieved the cashier at the Express line; apparently they didn’t trust her to handle more than ten items at a time. Ridiculous.

She had always been exceptionally gifted with numbers. She spent her evenings at home playing Sudoku on her phone. She used to help her sisters at Magnolia House with their Math homework and charged the other girls at the home for the same. She saw the mystery guy again and all thoughts of Ted and Mathematics vanished.

He was in the fresh produce aisle. He was examining the kale. He looked at it for the longest while. He always spent some time at that exact spot, where she could see him clearly.

If he moved down to where the tomatoes were she wouldn’t be able to see him until he came back to where the whole grain breads were. No doubt about it, he was a healthy eater.


She looked up to see a customer standing in front of her.

She smiled at the customer and rang up the few items. As usual, seeing the mystery guy lightened her day.

He was her fifteen minutes of eye candy. She watched him from the corner of her eyes, almost sighing with disappointment when he went to Cashier 3. He had more things than he could pay for at the express line anyway, but today she wished that she could see him close up…

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