Love and Leather

"Brenna!" The barista calls out my name, and I whip my head around to see her smiling at the room as she holds a coffee tray with two coffees on it. It's surprisingly fast, given I only ordered a couple of minutes ago and the shop is packed, but I shrug and walk over to the counter. "That's me, thanks," I say as I take the coffees from her. I leave the shop and walk half a block to the office space I share with Claire and Ally. Claire and I have an interior design business. Meanwhile, Ally is a fashion show director. She's off at a model casting today with a client, so I only have two coffees. I hold a coffee out in front of Claire. "Who's the best interior designer you know?" "Myself," she teases me with a grin. I pull the coffee away from her and shake my head. "Wrong answer, my friend. I guess I'm having two coffees today." I take a sip and almost spit the coffee out on the floor in front of me. It's black, bitter, and absolutely not one of the two lattes I ordered. "Why do you look like you just swallowed a mouthful of c*m?" Claire asks with a laugh. I force the vile liquid down my throat and scrunch my nose up at her. "c*m tastes like liquid gold compared to this shit." I frown at the cup in my hand and double-check that the name 'Brenna' is written there. "They've f*****g given me the wrong coffees, I swear to god. I mean, they were busy as hell, but still." I pick up the other coffee, and it's milky and sweet. Way too sweet. Several pumps of vanilla kind of sweet. I roll my eyes at Claire. "I'll be back. We can't drink this s**t. I'll get them to fix it." I stride back to the coffee shop and force myself to take several deep breaths on the way there. I don't see any point in raging at the shop staff as much as I might need my caffeine fix, and they've given me undrinkable coffees. I ignore the queue and move toward the counter, holding my coffee order ahead of myself to prevent anyone from thinking I just want to jump the queue to be a d**k. I hover to the side as a woman who must be in her early twenties stands at the counter and sniffs loudly. "I need it to be fixed immediately. My boss is an asshole, and he said he's going to fire me if I'm not back in ten minutes." She wipes a tear from her face. "I need the right coffees. I can't give him a latte, or he'll kill me. He only ever drinks it black." "Of course." The barista smiles at her. "I'm so sorry. We'll get it fixed immediately." My ears perk up, and I frown at the woman. "Is your name Brenna by any chance?" "Huh? Yes, it is." She turns to look at me as she nods. "I'm Brenna, too. I think I have your coffee order. One caramel latte and one godawful coffee that's as black as your boss's soul." I hold the order out to her. "Oh my god, thank you!" She holds two coffees out to me. "Two lattes." We switch coffees, thank the barista, and apologize to the other customers as we leave the store. Brenna looks harried as she checks her phone. "f**k. My boss said he would fire me if I wasn't back in the office in two more minutes. It's two blocks that way." She points in the direction of my office with the coffees as she begins to walk. "I'm so fucked." I feel terrible for this poor woman. I had a few personal assistant jobs before I went into business for myself, and I remember having some terrible bosses. "He sounds like a complete asshole. I'll come with you and explain the situation," I promise. "I just need to drop this coffee to my business partner on the way, but I'm not going to let him fire you. It's my fault I took your coffee order. I did think it was made too quickly, but Brenna's such an uncommon name that I didn't think twice." We drop Claire's coffee to her and continue up the street to Brenna's office. My eyebrows raise as we enter the DJM Enterprises building. It's a Fortune 500 company with three best friends at its head. I recently read an article about them in a '30 Billionaires To Watch Under 30" in a business magazine. Brenna shifts from foot to foot in the elevator and fidgets with the coffee tray while I take a sip of my coffee. I usually have to wait a while for it to cool enough to drink because I've never liked it piping hot, but with all the back and forth, this is the perfect temperature. I wonder if she works for one of the big bosses, and I assume she does by the way she's panicking. Sure enough, the elevator takes us to the top floor, and she leads the way through. "I'm not sure this is a good idea. I appreciate your help, but my boss might fire me for bringing you in here," she whispers. I give her a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine, Brenna. I'm just here to explain the situation and get it sorted." She leads me to an office in the corner of the building, with a nameplate on the door bearing the name 'Damien McKinnon.' Interesting. When Brenna pushes open the door, we're treated to the sight of the man himself sitting at his desk. He has short, curly red hair and glasses. He's wearing a light grey suit, but I know from pictures I've seen online that it's hiding a muscled body. When he looks up and sees us, his eyebrows immediately knit together in a frown, and his clear green eyes turn dark. "What the f**k is this, Brenna? Why is this woman here?" She scurries forward and places his coffee on his desk. "I'm so, so sorry, Mr. McKinnon. There was a mix-up with the coffees. Brenna got my coffees, and I got hers, but she came back, and we switched, and she thought she should come here and explain. I'm so sorry." I walk forward and take a seat in the leather armchair across from his desk, cross one leg over the other, and smooth my skirt back down after it rides up my thigh. Damien's jaw drops as I do, and I calmly take a sip of my latte as I watch the scene unfold. "Excuse me. What the f**k do you think you're doing?" he growls.