The smell of coffee and fucking bacon dragged me out of the best sleep I'd had in years. I opened my eyes to Jax's bedroom, the sheets tangled around my legs, my body humming with the deep, sweet ache of last night. Sunlight cut lines through the blinds.
I found him in the kitchen, his back to me, shirtless in a pair of sweats. The beautiful tatto muscles in his shoulders moved as he flipped something in a pan.
"Hey," I said, my voice scratchy.
He glanced over his shoulder, that almost-smile on his face. "Hey. You're alive."
"Barely." I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his warm skin. He smelled like soap and clean sweat. "You cook?"
"I try. When I'm motivated." He turned in my arms and kissed me, tender and brief, his mouth tasting of coffee. "Good morning."
"He said"
We ate eggs and bacon at his small table, our knees bumping underneath. It was so stupidly normal and perfect it almost hurt.
"Shit," I said, swallowing the last of my coffee. "I have to meet Maya. At that cafe on Fifth. Some 'girl talk' emergency. Then I gotta get home and actually work on that presentation from hell for Tuesday." And that's tomorrow.
Jax nodded. "I've got prep work with Frank at the site. I'll drop you at the cafe on my way."
He pulled up right outside the cafe a while later. The kiss goodbye wasn't quick. It was a slow, lingering thing that said last night and tonight and more. I floated out of the truck and into the cafe.
The grin died when I saw her.
Maya was at a corner table, statue-still, staring into a cold cup like it held the secrets of the universe. Her face was flushed bright red.
I slid into the chair opposite. "What the hell, Maya? You look like you saw a ghost."
She finally blinked, her eyes wide. "Ella. Oh, my God."
"What? Spill."
"Fuck. Okay." She ran a hand through her hair. "Last night. After I left work. I came here to have a peaceful sip of latte, my card wasn't working, I was pissed, and this… this guy starts talking to me."
"What guy?"
"Some random! Leaning on the counter. He said something like, 'Sometimes things refuse to work when your spirit is louder than your patience.'"
I stared. "What the hell does that mean?"
"I don't know! I mentally told him to fuck off. Got my coffee, tried to ignore him. Then he says something similar again. Like he was talking in proverbs lol, 'Sometimes the answers we're looking for are closer than you think.' Ella, I swear to God."
A weird chill went down my spine. "Maya…"
"She didn't let me finish".
"I'm trying to pretend he's a lamp, right? And I can see him in the window reflection. Just watching. Calm. Then he says it again, softer: 'Sometimes the truth you're searching for… is right in front of you.'"
She took a shaky breath. "So that's when I turned. I finally looked at him. And… fuck. Ella. He's chef's kiss.
Crazy right ?!
Then I blurted out,,
you in a danger' level of an handsome. he was just breathtakingly handsome Ella,his outfit was like… a nice henley. Work boots. Big hands. Eyes that looked like they'd seen every stupid thing I had ever done and just found it… interesting."
"Then what did you do?"
"I panicked! I think he was trying to introduce himself. He opened his mouth saying something like I'm fra...., and I just short-circuited. I mumbled 'I'm sorry' to the air, grabbed all my shit, and ran out of here. I left a full latte.You know I never leave my latte." She buried her face in her hands. "I'm a fucking disaster."
I pried her hands away. "He was a weird, hot philosopher. You were tired. It's okay."
"But what if he wasn't being weird? What if he was just… trying to be nice? And I ran like a scared rabbit?" She groaned. "I'm the worst."
We talked a bit more before I headed home to tackle my project. My home was quiet. I booted up my laptop, but my mind kept drifting back to Maya's story and I giggled".
***
At the job site, Frank ran a hand along the edge of a long oak table, checking the seam. The prep work was straightforward, but his mind wasn't here. A small, mysterious smile hadn't left his face all morning.
Jax looked up from measuring a baseboard. "What's with you, man? You've been grinning like you won the lottery since you got here."
Frank shrugged, the smile widening a touch. He picked up a sanding block. "Just saw something interesting yesterday, that's all."
"Yeah? What?"
"A girl. In a coffee shop." Frank's voice was a low rumble. He remembered it clearly: A woman at the counter, muttering curses at the card reader, energy crackling off her like a live wire. She had this fierce, beautiful frustration. He continued.
Turning to Jax,he said."
He told her the first thing that came to his mind some dumb line about patience and spirit just to see her react. And, oh, she did. Her eyes had gone wide when she finally turned to look at him. He also said he was about to introduce himself but she'd bolted like a spooked deer, leaving a full cup behind. It was the most entertaining thing that had happened to him in months. "Just interesting," he repeated to Jax, not elaborating.
Jax shook his head. "You're a strange man, Frank."
"Yeah," Frank agreed, still smiling. "I am."
***
At Jefferson & Co.,where Ben works at.
Ben's head was a drum someone was beating from the inside. Sober daylight made last night a crisp, humiliating film: the whiskey, the pathetic drama and embarrassment he pulled at the club and the grand finale Charles-fucking-Sterling his father in law to be seeing him hunched on the curb.
He was trying to force his eyes to focus on a contract when her shadow fell across his desk.
Clara.
Her expression was polished, cold, and completely empty. "You didn't come home last night."
"I was out," Ben said, not looking up.
"My father saw you. He said you looked… unwell." Her voice was a surgical instrument. "We have the Hargrove dinner tomorrow. You better not try to embarrassed me."
"I'm fine, Clara."
"You smell like a bar towel. It's disgusting." She leaned in, her perfume a frosty cloud. "End whatever this pathetic spiral is. Continue being the Vice President I'm engaged to, not the drunk my father pitied."
Before he could snap back, a knock sounded at the door.
Mr. Sung from Operations stood there. "Mr. Benjamin. Mr. Jefferson needs you in the conference room. Immediately."
Ben stood, avoiding Clara's triumphant glare. "Of course."
He followed Sung down the hall, his polished shoes silent on the carpet. In the glass-walled conference room, Mr. Jefferson and a few senior partners stood near the window. A new man stood with them, his back to the door.
"Benjamin, good," Mr. Jefferson said, without warmth in his voice. "Come in. The merger support team from Sterling is finalized. This is Sam Gael. He'll be our new senior strategic liaison. You'll be working closely with him."
Ben turned to look at the new staff.