A Billionaire For Christmas

Coffee And Conversation

Samantha’s POV:

I turned and saw the last person I wanted to see and I was surprised. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the bustling city around us fading into the background.

Then, his expression shifted, his surprise giving way to something I couldn’t quite read.

“Julian?” I said, my voice filled with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitated, I guessed he was unsure of what to say to me. Of course he should, when he was a jerk the last time we met.

“I—uh—I was having dinner, and I saw you leave. You looked upset. Is… everything okay?”

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms.

“Why do you care?”

My sharp response made him flinch a little and I was happy about that. “Serves you right for being a jerk to me last time.” I told myself.

“I know I don’t exactly have the best track record with you, but… I do care. You seem like you’ve had a rough night.”

I scoffed, shaking my head.

“Rough doesn’t even begin to describe it.” my tone softened slightly as I looked away, focusing on the empty street. “And I thought you were bad.”

He couldn’t help but laugh softly, though it was more at his own expense.

“Ouch. That bad, huh?”

I glanced back at me, my lips twitching as if suppressing a smile.

“Worse.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt heavy, but not entirely unpleasant. It was as if we were both waiting for the other to say something first.

“Well,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “if you’re up for it, maybe I could make it up to you.”

I tilted my head, eyeing me warily. “Make it up to me? How?”

He gestured toward a small café across the street. “No expectations, no pressure. Just coffee. If you say no, I’ll walk away right now.”

I studied him for a long moment, my eyes narrowing slightly. Then, to my own surprise, I accepted.

“Fine. But just coffee.”

I noticed that a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Just coffee,” he echoed.

Together, we crossed the street, stepping into the warmth of the café.

*****

The café was cozy, filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of quiet conversations.

A few people sat scattered at tables, some with laptops, others chatting over steaming cups. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of the city outside.

Julian held the door open for me, and I stepped inside, brushing the chill of the evening off my shoulders.

He followed closely behind, his presence strangely calm yet noticeable.

We picked a table by the window. I sat first, still unsure why I had agreed to this. Maybe I was curious.

Or maybe, deep down, I wanted to see if there was more to him than that disastrous first impression.

A waitress came by with a polite smile, setting down menus. I glanced at it briefly before deciding on a latte. Julian ordered a black coffee, no sugar, no cream. Figures.

As the waitress left, Julian leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the table.

“So,” he began, “how does a guy manage to ruin a date so badly that you storm out twice?”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his directness. “You’re assuming it’s always the guy’s fault?”

He smirked. “Well, considering our first encounter, I’m pretty sure I earned my share of blame. But tonight?” He gestured vaguely toward where I’d come from. “What happened?”

I hesitated, wondering how much I wanted to reveal. “He was just… another disappointment. Arrogant, condescending, and clearly more interested in himself than in me.” I sipped my latte, shaking my head. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I bother.”

Julian nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “That’s fair. I’m not exactly the poster child for successful dates either.”

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what’s your excuse?”

His smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “Work, mostly. It’s easier to lose yourself in deadlines and meetings than to risk putting yourself out there. At least with work, you know where you stand.”

His honesty caught me off guard. For a moment, I forgot I was supposed to be wary of him.

“And the other part?” I pressed. “What about risking something real?”

He shrugged, his eyes meeting mine. “Maybe I’ve just forgotten how to.”

There was a weight in his words, a vulnerability I hadn’t expected. It disarmed me, leaving me unsure of how to respond.

The waitress returned with our drinks, breaking the moment. Julian muttered a quiet thank you before wrapping his hands around his coffee cup.

I decided to take a different approach. “Okay, since we’re here and doing this… coffee thing, tell me something about you that doesn’t involve work.”

He looked at me, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Fair enough. Something not about work.” He thought for a moment. “I play the piano. Badly, but it’s something I love.”