The Millionaire and the Writer (Free Story / Slow Burn Love Story)

Chapter 4: Her Daily Routine

Elaine

For the first time in a very long time, I didn’t sleep a wink.

I laid on my twin bed and stared out the window. Bird poop dotted the railing of the fire escape and a plastic bag was caught on one of the steps. I sighed. I loved being high off the ground and looking out at the world, but it was like the stupid pigeons had it out for me. I wished I could fly over the city and see it at night. That would be a beautiful sight.

I whipped my blankets off and quickly shuffled over to the clothing rack. I slipped on my winter jacket then threw my hair up in a ponytail. I made my way to the living room. It was barely seven-thirty and absolutely freezing. Rachael insisted we keep it cold during the night to save on the electric bill but I was sure she just liked it cold and didn’t want to admit it because she knew I’d fight her on it.

I lifted the blinds in the living room and was at least graced with the view of the brick apartments across the street. There was even the outline of a cat in a window perched next to a potted plant. I smiled. I wished I had a cat but Rachael was allergic. If I did have one, it could be my writing buddy on days I didn’t go to the coffee shop. Speaking of the coffee shop...

I pivoted away from the window and grabbed my cup off the tv tray as I passed. What in the world was I going to do about the Daniel situation? I turned on the kitchen sink and washed my cup. Rachael didn’t say another word about it last night, even when we went home together and she handed me a small stack of one-hundred-dollar bills in the cab. I knew who they were from, but I didn’t have the guts to reject it, seeing as Rachael was in love with the man who practically paid all her bills. Our bills. How ironic that his name was Bill.

I cracked a smile. I wondered if he did these kinds of things on purpose simply because he wanted to be “Bill who pays bills.” I snickered and turned off the water. I was so funny.

After I made a cup of coffee, I sat down on the couch and curled up under a blanket. I cradled the warmth in my hands. I loved coffee so much.

I suddenly realized I hadn’t checked my phone since the debacle last night. I had been in such an anxious, annoyed haze – annoyed at Rachael and anxious about her lecturing me – that it didn’t even occur to me I owned portable technology. I pulled my phone out of my jacket and tried to turn it on, but as expected, it was dead. I leaned over the arm of the couch and picked up the ten-foot cord. I plugged it in. It took a little bit for the screen to light up, but once it did, and the notifications came through, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach, souring the coffee that was now there.

purplesuitdaniel has followed you on In***gram

Was that...coffee shop Daniel? The Daniel from last night? The Daniel I avoided looking at for fear of spontaneously combusting? My breaths quickened. How did he find my profile? I’m not even in my own profile photo or username, and God knew I wasn’t in the same circle of friends as him.

I cautiously tapped on the notification and was taken to his profile. I stared at the first handful of photos without touching the screen. It looked like he only took photos of the streets wherever he went. A photo of his shoes as he stood on a grate. The front steps of a townhouse. A dog standing at a crosswalk beside its owner. I scrolled down and found photos of perfectly stacked papers, drinks, and – oh my God. I tapped on a photo of a mirror, and there he was, perfectly groomed and in his purple suit. What was it with this guy and purple suits?

I sat there and stared at the image of him. Every angle of the suit perfectly accentuated every angle of his body. His shoulders, his arms, his torso. He wasn’t too muscular and he wasn’t too skinny – a happy medium. I liked that.

I scrolled a bit more and found another mirror selfie. In this one, I could barely see him since he was standing so far away. It looked like he was in an empty apartment. Maybe he had moved or something. From what I could tell, though, he wasn’t wearing a purple suit. It was green. Weird. I almost expected him to only wear purple. I wasn’t really a fan of this other color on him, though. The dark purple looked better.

I scrolled some more and found a lot of photos of an office – the view from the window, the view from the desk, the view from a chair in the corner of the room. He had one photo of his legs stretched out and a to-go coffee cup in his hand. My heart thudded in my chest when I saw the logo on the side of the cup. It was from the coffee shop we had met at. I looked at the date the photo was posted and it was well over a year ago.

I gently rested my hand in my lap. So our meeting hadn’t been a pure coincidence. He had visited that coffee shop before, but why was yesterday the first time I had ever seen him? I went there almost every day and had never seen a guy like him. I felt like I would remember if I had.

When I lifted my hand again, I accidentally liked the photo and immediately froze. Oh no. I had just liked a photo from over a year ago. I was a stalker. I was going to be seen as a stalker now and I couldn’t just unlike the photo because he’d still have the notification on his phone. He’d know I had unliked it. I locked my phone and set it aside carefully. I breathed deeply a few times. At least it wasn’t one of his mirror selfies, right? I liked a photo of a coffee cup. A simple coffee cup.

I bit my lip and stared anxiously out the window. The cat was gone, leaving the potted plant to soak up whatever sunshine peeked through the clouds. If I had a cat, it would be the best thing in my entire life. I could snuggle with it and pet it and happily take pictures of it. Think of all the videos of it I could post! Ugh. I wanted a cat so badly.

I turned back to my phone sitting next to me. It was probably best to work on my book. If I didn’t, I’d think myself into a tizzy. I almost wished I was working tonight but Rachael had taken my shift so that she could see Bill again. I wished I knew more about that guy. I wondered if Rachael was safe talking to him, if he really was as good as she said he was. From the way he spoke last night, I wasn’t too sure if he was considerate enough for her. He seemed to be someone who just said whatever he wanted, and that was a dangerous trait to have if he was going to be friends with Rachael.

I cautiously exited Ins**gram then turned my phone on do not disturb. I spent the rest of the morning on my laptop typing away at a story I had been working on for the last year. It was almost complete but every time I wanted to end it, the story didn’t want to end. It always wanted to say more, always wanted to give the characters more chances at redemption. It was a real problem.

Rachael finally emerged around noon, waved at me sleepily then downed a protein shake and took a shower. Around three in the afternoon, she left for work, leaving me to sit around and try not to think about Daniel. What would he say to her if he showed up with Bill tonight? Would Rachael bite his head off? I didn't want to be responsible for that.

After about another hour and a half of trying to write but getting distracted by my thoughts, I got dressed in jeans and a hoodie then made my way over to the bookstore by the mall. I walked casually through the young adult section, noting the covers I liked, but I didn’t really find anything I wanted to read. I had been trying to read something, anything, within the last year, but everything I looked at made me feel lesser-than. I wanted to finish writing my book so badly.

I walked through the notebook section. As per usual, my eyes drank in all the cute floral designs, some with sequins, some with sticker sheets attached. I loved the idea of journaling or keeping a written weekly schedule, but I could never motivate myself to do it. I felt my life wasn’t interesting enough. Or maybe I didn’t want anyone to read it without my knowing. That would be embarrassing if someone read my personal journal. I couldn’t even let anyone read my fiction writing easily.

I sighed and set a pink notebook back down. It was so cute, but I just couldn’t buy it for myself. It was too weird buying things for myself. I never really “treated myself” like my sister and Rachael had always told me I should do. I didn’t understand what they meant by that, really, because it just felt like spoiling myself as if I were a child getting everything they wanted. It didn’t seem right to me.

I waved at the cashier as I exited the bookstore. She smiled at me as she continued to ring someone up. I held the door open for a few people as I left. It was already getting dark outside, and it was colder. I wished I had worn my winter coat instead of my hoodie. I checked my phone but there wasn’t anything from Rachael...or Ins**gram. I stuffed my phone back in my pocket. I secretly wished Daniel would say something about me to her just to prove to her a man was interested in me despite her being overprotective, but I knew that wouldn’t happen. It never did.

I glared at the back of the person in front of me as we steadily walked down the sidewalk. I nearly hit someone’s shoulder as they stumbled across my path but I veered close to a wall and safely made it around them. I stopped at a crosswalk and aimlessly looked around at the yellow-lit street.

Why was Rachael always making these types of decisions for me? Why did she peg me as such an “innocent” person? What was so awful about my personality that she had to protect me from everything? I just didn’t understand. We went to college together and in those days, she didn’t protect me as much as she did now. She just did her own thing as I did mine and we never got in each other’s business unless the other shared. So what changed?

The light changed and I stepped down off the curb. A man hurried along, pulling his scarf a bit tighter around his neck. I just walked at my usual pace, noting the people around me, making sure no one seemed to be following me before I eventually turned down my street after twenty-eight blocks. It was a hell of a distance but since I didn’t need to rush against time, I didn’t mind the walk. Plus, I liked nighttime.

I got home and watched tv until Rachael returned around midnight. I went to my room right after saying goodnight, and just as I was about to turn the light off in my room, my phone vibrated. I picked it up off the nightstand and looked at the notification.

purplesuitdaniel liked your photo

My eyes widened. No. Way. I immediately tapped the notification and was brought to my most recent photo. The coffee shop and my cake that I eventually dropped on the ground like a complete moron. I covered my mouth as an insane smile grew on my face. I couldn’t believe he actually liked one of my photos! Granted, he hadn’t liked one from over a year–

Another notification popped up. He liked another photo. I went to it. It was the photo I had taken of my college dorm the day I moved out. Empty, baren. From three years ago. I continued to hold my hand against my mouth, too shocked to move. What did this mean? Was he trying to annoy me? Was he playing with me? Was he teasing me? What was he doing? And then, as if that wasn’t enough, five minutes later he liked another photo. Two years ago. The first day I started working with Rachael. I had taken a photo of the empty patio just after the lunch rush. The caption read: If I could be a woman of leisure, I’d sit at restaurants and cafes all day, sip on coffee, and read books.

He didn’t like anything else after that.

I sat there with my hand plastered to my mouth and stared at the dark phone screen. What was going on?

I eventually pulled myself out of the shock a bit and went to bed, but I was so unusually anxious that I tossed and turned all night, barely sleeping again. I tried to throw myself back into writing the next morning but again, I couldn’t concentrate. I didn’t go to the coffee shop like I had planned because I knew I wouldn’t be able to speak if I saw him. This was just so unusual for me – a man, any man, especially a man like him, to show some sort of interest. Granted, I couldn’t tell what kind of interest it was but still. It made me really curious about who he was.

I went to work that evening and thankfully there was no sign of him. No word of him. Rachael didn’t say anything either. I wanted to go to the coffee shop the next day, but I was kind of scared. What would I even say to him if he saw me and started talking to me? Maybe I could ask more questions about his work or what he did in his personal life. That seemed like a normal thing to talk about.

As I laid in bed that night, my thoughts kept drifting to what Rachael would think if she found out about this…whatever this was. Was it even a thing? What was a thing? How could I know if he was interested in me romantically or if he was just being friendly?

Despite my fear of Rachael finding out and lecturing me, I needed to go to the coffee shop again. I wanted to know if he’d show up. I just had to know if we would run into each other again.

I made sure to wake up at the first sign of dawn and leave around seven when Rachael would be dead asleep. I got to the coffee shop at seven-thirty on the dot and set up in the corner by the windows. Laptop open, coffee cup steaming, I pretended to look busy on my computer as people filtered in and out. Jeans, leggings, hoodies, puffy jackets, scraggly scarves, fingerless gloves, even some t-shirts for those who never seemed bothered by the cold. But no suits in sight.

I pouted behind a hand. Did I really think he’d show up just because he liked a few of my photos? Was I desperate or something?

I sat there all morning trying to be busy, trying to lower my hopes, but I failed at both. I was so stu*id. Really stu*id. How could I have done such a ridiculous thing? Sitting there all morning waiting to see someone that likely had no real interest in me. Rachael would definitely scold me for being stu*id.

When lunch rolled around, I was so hungry I felt like I was about to pass out. I slammed my laptop shut, gathered my things, and stood back in line to get a sandwich before I left. When I got to the register, I ordered a simple ham and cheese sandwich.

“Okay, will that be all?” Jessica said, tapping the register’s screen.

“Yeah, that’ll be–”

“I’ll have an iced vanilla coffee please,” someone said as they came to stand beside me. Jessica and I both looked over to the person and, to my absolute shock, it was Daniel in a much lighter purple suit. Lavender. My first thought was: Is he really going to make me pay for him?

Jessica blinked for a second then said, “Daniel!” I looked back at her. She knew him? “What are you doing here? You’re never here at this time.” Her tan skin turned slightly pink at the cheeks.

“Oh, I had some business in the area,” he said plainly.

I tried not to look uncomfortable but my body just wanted to squirm away from him. He was close. Really close. My brain felt like a puddle of goop and it didn’t want to tell my mouth what to say or how to move my arms to get the cash out of my wallet.

“I’m paying for her,” he said as I saw him motion to me out of the corner of my eye. If I didn’t get food in me soon, I was going to pass out for real. I had to eat. I had to sit down. I had to get some fresh air – something!

“Oh, okay.” Jessica tapped the screen a few times. “That’ll be six-twenty-five.”

He paid with his phone and the second it dinged, I walked toward the end of the counter. He said thank you and followed behind me. I hovered over by the stools and took the chance to sit. If I passed out in front of him, I would quite literally die of embarrassment. I didn’t look at him as I sat there and he didn’t say anything either. Was he annoyed I hadn’t paid? Was I even supposed to pay? I didn’t even know the guy! And it wasn’t like we were on a date or something. How was I supposed to know how to act?

“Are you okay?” his voice broke into my thoughts.

“Huh?” I looked up. Wow, he had the most beautiful brown eyes. Dark brown eyebrows, sleek black hair. Extremely symmetrical nose and jawline and the smoothest skin I had ever seen on a man. My words left me. Actually left me. I tried to form a sentence but literally nothing entered my brain.

“Are you okay?” he repeated.

I couldn’t stop staring at his face.

“Daniel!” someone called out. He lifted his gaze away from me. I pouted openly as I watched him not pay attention to me, but when I realized what I was doing, I snapped out of it before he turned back around. What in the heck was I doing?

He handed me my sandwich and a bottle of water. “I didn’t get water,” I said.

“I know. I didn’t want you to choke or anything so I asked them for a bottle.”

“You think I’d choke on my sandwich?” I clutched it tightly in one hand. So he thought I was an id**t who dropped food and choked on it? Great.

“Oh, no I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought you should have something to drink with your food.” He looked between me and his iced coffee. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want it, you don't have to take it."

“No,” I blurted out. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you earlier either. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I found myself saying. “It’s fine, really. Don’t worry about it.”

He stirred his coffee with the straw. The barista called out another name behind him.

“Dooo you want to sit?” I asked. He almost looked scared for some reason.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

“No, I can stay.”

“But you were going to leave,” he stated.

“I have my sandwich now.” I smiled and started unwrapping it. “I’m okay.” I took a bite and waited for him to sit in front of me but he didn’t. He looked up at me, though, as I took a sip of the water. “See?” I said after I swallowed. “I’m safe from choking. All because of this life-saving water you gave me.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He finally slid onto the stool in front of me and my heart leaped inside my chest. I couldn’t believe I had just invited this man to sit with me.

“Have you been here all day?” he asked. I couldn’t possibly tell him I had been waiting for him, or even give him the hint that I had been.

“I’m here most days,” I said. Oh. Was that something I shouldn’t have said? Rachael had told me that I should never tell someone where I went regularly. Especially if it was a man I didn’t know. But even though I didn’t know him personally, we kind of knew each other in a weird, roundabout way through Rachael.

I wondered if he’d mention the Ins**gram photos.

“I am as well,” he said, “although, I don't have time to sit and drink my coffee since I come in right before work.”

“How are you here right now, then?”

“I actually did have some business not too far from here.”

“Really?”

“Why? Is that shocking?”

“Kind of. Have you seen the way you dress?”

He glanced at his suit. “Is someone who dresses like me not allowed to be in this area?”

“It’s not that they’re not allowed to. It’s just that they aren’t ever seen here.” That was probably why Jessica knew him. He was easy to spot and he definitely didn’t have a face anyone would forget.

“This isn’t a bad area, though.” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced.

“No, but it’s not where people like you live.”

He frowned. “People like me?”

I chose my words carefully. “People...who aren’t struggling financially.”

He paused. “You mean wealthy?”

“I guess so.” I took another bite of my sandwich.

“I’m not as wealthy as I seem.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “Everyone I know has a lot more money than me.”

“Does Bill?”

“Yes.”

We sat in silence for a moment. People continued to flow around us grabbing their orders or napkins or sugar. Daniel glanced at the door behind me when there was a loud laugh. His eyes looked completely still, kind of cold, as if he was trying to hide what he was about to say.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” he finally said as he looked directly into my eyes. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything around Bill. He’s a very...brazen man, and I knew better but I said something anyway. I’m sorry.” He bowed his head slightly.

I honestly didn’t know what to say other than, “It’s fine.” I was really uncomfortable with what Bill had said, and I was trying to forget about it, but telling Daniel would be too much information. I didn’t want him to know how embarrassed I was at the thought of sleeping with someone like him. The audacity I would have to have to do so, dear God.

“Do you work tonight?” he asked.

“No–I mean yes. Yes, I work tonight.” I took another sip of water. I wanted to die.

“I’m working late tonight, so I won’t be able to stop by. Would it be okay if I messaged you after work, though?”

I just stared at him in shock. Was this man really asking me if he could message me? Was this real? Was I hearing correctly?

“I know I randomly followed you on Ins**gram, and I’m sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t trying to make you feel that way.” He cleared his throat. “But if it’s okay with you, and it wouldn’t be a bother, I’d like to talk to you more than just bumping into you here.” He rubbed his thumb up and down the side of his cup. “But only if it wouldn’t be a bother to you.” He looked at me.

“It’s no bother at all.” The words fell out of my mouth faster than I could think them. I couldn’t believe he was saying all this. I couldn’t believe I was saying this. “Oh,” I said, “just in case this comes up, maybe don’t mention it around Rachael.”

He nodded. “That’s okay with me. As long as we don’t tell Bill either.”

We were both definitely trying to hold back a smile. Planning a secret Ins**gram message behind our friends’ backs – this was entertaining.

“Uhm, okay.” He tapped the lid of his cup once. “I need to get going. I have an open house to get ready for.”

“An open house?” I asked as he stood.

“Yeah, Bill and I flip apartments, sometimes townhouses, and sell them. We kind of have a thing for making something old become new again.”

“That’s beautiful,” I breathed and instantly felt my face burn.

He smiled. “I guess so. I’ve never thought of it that way.” He looked into my eyes again. “I’ll message you later tonight.”

“Thank you for the sandwich.”

He nodded then glided past me.

I sat there in a daze. What just happened?

The baristas moved in slow motion between the sandwich line, the espresso machine, the ice tub. Then it dawned on me: sandwich? I said thank you for the sandwich?! I slapped a hand against my forehead. He must have thought I was so awkward! And the choking comment I said about the water? Really? I slumped in the stool and stared at the mustard seeping out from between the bread and ham. How could this beautiful man possibly want to talk to me? How?

I grabbed all my stuff, carefully wrapping my sandwich and putting it in my bag. As I walked back to the apartment, I started thinking of all the ways I could respond to him that night when he messaged me. I wished I could ask Rachael for advice, but I knew how that conversation would end, and I definitely didn’t want to admit to anyone that I didn’t know how to talk to men.