I doubt very much Emma Watson is anything like this, but I can dream. (Maybe I should get a night job?)
Please remember THIS IS NOT REAL!
---
The strangest and most wonderful things can happen when you least expect them. Due to a financial shortfall I had had to take a second, part-time job as a night clerk at a local hotel. It was only two nights a week, but the extra money was helpful. There was a bit of excitement around the town at the time as there was a film crew making a movie nearby. It meant that there were a few road closures around the town every so often, impacting on my main job, but other than that I didn't really notice much happening: I didn't even know the name of the film they were making, let alone who was in it.
One Saturday night after they had been shooting for a week or so I received a call down to the front desk I was manning, asking about the possibility of getting a sandwich sent up. I had to tell the lady that I was sorry but the kitchen had closed at midnight, when I came on duty half an hour ago.
"I had an idea it might be," a somehow familiar voice said, "but I thought it might be worth asking." She sighed. "Sorry for disturbing you."
"That's all right madam, it was nice to have someone to talk to for a short time." I said. At that moment I had a thought. "Actually, if you don't mind it looking a bit scrappy I could nip down to the kitchen and maybe make you a cheese and tomato sandwich."
"Could you? I'm having trouble getting to sleep and thought a bite to eat might help."
"In that case I may be able to rustle up some drinking chocolate too."
"That would be lovely, thank you. I'm in room forty-two."
"I should be about twenty minutes."
---
It actually took me nearer half an hour, mainly because I couldn't find a fresh enough tomato at first. I knocked softly at the door of room forty-two, a small tray balanced on one hand, wondering if maybe the lady had fallen asleep after all. After a second or two the door opened. I nearly dropped the tray in surprise at who I saw. It was Emma fucking Watson! She wore a short silken robe loosely tied over a shorter silk negligee. I couldn't stop myself from exclaiming.
"Good god almighty! You're Emma Watson!" (I managed to miss out the expletive.)
"I know I am." She grinned despite probably hearing that all the time. "Come in, before you drop that." She said, taking the wobbling tray with the drink and the sandwich from me.
"I'm not sure I should." I said dubiously.
"Why ever not? Don't you trust me?" She laughed.
"It's me I don't trust. And I'm not supposed to leave the desk for too long." I explained.
"And why don't you trust yourself?" She teased.
"Are you kidding? You're Emma Watson, lusted after by millions!"
"I thought hotel staff were above noticing things like that." She teased again.
"Maybe the full-timers are, I only do Friday and Saturday nights, and I'm pretty new at it too."
"Oh go on. Come in and talk to me while I eat the sandwich you went out of your way to make for me." I wavered uncertainly. "What's your name anyway?" She asked.
"Dave." I told her.
"Well Dave, please come in and talk to me for a while." She gave me such a sweet smile, but with her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.
'What the hell?' I thought, 'It'd be worth the risk of getting the sack'. So I followed her into the room, sitting in a vacant chair as Emma sipped her chocolate and took a nibble from her sandwich.
"So, I didn't realise we had the much-talked-about film crew here at the hotel." I said, mainly for something to say.
"You don't," she said, "only me. Everyone else was having a party tonight, but I wanted to be alone, to try and get some sleep," she smiled ironically, "so they moved me in here, at least for a few days." She took another sip from her drink, this time leaving a foamy brown moustache on her upper lip. "I might stay longer though, it's nice here."
I was struggling not to laugh and failed.
"What is it?" Emma asked suspiciously.
"You appear to have acquired a moustache." I gasped out between laughs.
Emma went a little red and dabbed away the foam with the tray napkin.
"Omigod, what must you think?" She said, clearly embarrassed by something so silly.
"If you must know, I'm thinking that film stars appear to be human too."
"You're very kind."
"And you, Miss Watson, are very pretty, even with a moustache."
She blushed a little more and then smiled at me; at me! I still couldn't believe this and things were about to get more unbelievable.
Emma looked at me thoughtfully.
"Are you going to be doing anything in particular tomorrow?" She asked, still nibbling at the sandwich.
"Well, I intend to get some sleep when I get home in the morning."
"What about in the afternoon?"
"I've nothing planned." I shrugged.
"Good. I was wondering if you'd be interested in going for a picnic." She blushed again, possibly thinking she was being pushy.
"With you? I'd love to." I said.
"Good." She said again. "I'll provide the food if you provide the location."
"Okay."
"Pick me up about two?"
"Whatever you want Miss Watson."
"I think you can call me Emma." She gave a relieved grin and then had to stifle a yawn. "That drink appears to be starting to work."
"Then I'll leave." I said, getting up. "See you tomorrow afternoon Miss....." She held up her hand. "Sorry, Emma." I grinned.
---
If I hadn't been so tired I doubt I'd have got any sleep at all. As it was I lay awake for over an hour; worrying about what I could talk to Emma Watson about; about whether she'd mind travelling in my old car; and mostly about where to take her for a picnic. Now I'd woken up and I was still worrying, but now about whether I'd imagined the whole thing. By one o'clock I'd had enough and I called the hotel and asked to be put through to room forty-two. I had been prepared to lose my job just for talking with Emma and now I was equally prepared to lose it if she thought I was harassing her. The phone had barely rung twice before it was answered.
