It was only 9:12am, but my feet already ached. The cafe always fill up early on rainy days, people looking for shelter, warmth, caffeine, or all the three. I hadn't eaten since dinner last night, but I didn't have time to think about that. Rent will due next week, Mom's meds are getting more expensive, and if I don't ace my stats midterm, I'd risk losing the scholarship.
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and moved to the next order, blinking away the burn behind my eyes.
The door swung open with a bang. A gust of wet air blew through the shop as a tall figure stepped inside, shaking off rain like he owned the storm. Umbrella in one hand, phone in the other hand, and a scowl etched into his face like marble.
Julian Blackwood.
I didn't need to look twice to know who he was. Everyone knew him. Even if you'd never met him, you'd heard about him. The Blackwood heir. Cold. Rich. Unreachable. Like a statue that glared back.
He stood at the counter, not looking up, still speaking into his Bluetooth earpiece.
"I said move the meeting, not cancel it. If they can't make time, they don't deserve my time" His voice was smooth, low, and impatient, the kind that made you feel like an inconvenience just by breathing in his space.
I swallowed, hard.
He didn't even look at me as he rattled off his order: " Black coffee. No sugar. Extra hot" then he went back to his call, walking towards the far end of the counter where I'd place a tray of drinks waiting to be delivered.
My fingers trembled as I prepped his cup. It wasn't fear. Not exactly. It was the weight of knowing that one wrong move around someone like him could cost you everything.
And because fate apparently love watching me suffer, I made that one wrong move the very next second.
I reached for the black coffee, his order, just as someone called my name from the back room. I turned my head for a second. That's all it took.
When I swielved back around, cup in hand, Julian had moved.
He wasn't standing behind the counter anymore. He had rounded it, phone still glued to his ear, probably to get away from crowd, and that's exactly when I collided with him.
I crashed straight into his chest.
The lid popped off with a horrifying pop, and the scalding liquid poured down the front of his suit like a waterfall. I gasped, backing up in pure panic, but the damage was already done.
Oh no. No no no!
His phone dropped to the floor with a clatter. Time seemed to slow. I watched as the rich brown stain spread across crisp fabric that probably cost more than my entire semester.
I wanted to scream. Or faint. Or both.
He looked down at his suit in utter of disbelief, then slowly raised his gaze to me.
It was that moment that I knew: I was dead.