A stranger in my café
1290 Words
Krystalina ~
My eyes welled up with fresh tears as I pulled out the plugs, shutting down the coffee machine, I bought with my hard-earned money.
This cafe is my life. My baby, and I am closing it down forever.
I was twenty when I decided I don't want to work under someone, I want to make something of my own. I wanted to do something that would bring happiness into people's lives, even if it was just for an hour.
Last year on Christmas I opened my cafe on loan, and this year before even Christmas came, I am shutting it down because it went into huge loss.
And now I am left with nothing but a pile of loans and debt over my head. Something I won't be able to pay even if I sell my soul to the devil.
The saddest part is I don't have anyone's support. My mother was against me for starting my own business, I don't have my boyfriend with me anymore, who promised to support me.
I am all alone in this.
"A customer is here, and he is asking for a salted caramel latte."
I frowned, my cafe 'Latte and Pepper' has been a dead case for the past two months. Barely a customer or two comes.
Maybe God is trying to tease me.
"I will get it, you can go home," I said and plugged in the machine again, turning it on. "Are you sure? I can wait till you finish," Nina asked, her amber eyes laced with worry.
"I will handle it, Nina, and thank you for your cooperation" I said, keeping my voice from choking. I smiled at her through the tears that were forming in the back of my eyes.
Nina was the first person I hired, and she stayed till last. She never gave up.
"God, I am going to miss you so much, Kristie." She let out a sad laugh and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back. "I will miss you too."
I watched her retrieve back and soon started to prepare the last coffee. I filled the cup and put it on the tray and walked out of the kitchen with creamy muffins.
My feet halted as my eyes landed on a man in a black suit and a white shirt underneath. His hair looked neat and sleek, even after the whole day, and there was not a single crease on his shirt. It was still crisp.
How is it possible?
A powerful aura is radiating through him. His muscles flexed and rippled through his black coat as he wrote something on the paper.
Men like him don’t drink coffee in failing cafés with chipped tiles and secondhand furniture. His suit alone could probably pay one installment of my loan.
"Are you done ogling at me?"
A shiver rolled down my spine as his velvety voice reached my ears. His warm brown eyes clashed against my blue ones, and I looked down in embarrassment.
I have never seen a man as gorgeous as him before. Morgan would be nothing but a sham in front of this man's beauty.
Get a grip Krystalina.
I coughed a little and stepped closer to his table, a yelp escaped my mouth as my foot hit the stand, and my eyes widened as the tray slipped from my hand.
Then a warm hand gripped mine and saved the tray before it could fall on the floor.
"Careful," he breathed out. Just one word was enough to fill my body with warmth.
I licked my lips as he helped me steady on my feet, his warm hand still holding my wrist. I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest as if I were running a marathon.
I nodded my head, my hands still shaking, I placed the tray in front of him. "Salted caramel latte,” I say. “On the house.”
That finally gets his attention.
“Why?”
Because it’s the last one I’ll ever make. Because pity tastes worse than charity.
“End-of-day courtesy,” I lie.
He studies me for a moment, then nods, sitting back on the chair and takes a sip.
My breath hitched as my gaze traveled to his throat as he gulped, his adam's apple bob up and down, in grace.
“This place closes tomorrow,” he says and my palm curled in first, embarrassment burning inside. He doesn’t look smug. Or pleased.
His vulture-like eyes scrutinized me from head to toe, and suddenly I felt conscious of my appearance. He must be thinking of me as an ugly freak owner.
“Who are you?” I ask. And how does he know that my café is going to close down by tomorrow.
“A man who dislikes inefficiency,” he answers.
That stings more than it should. I sit across from him. “If you’re here to tell me to vacate early, save your breath. I’m already leaving.”
“I know.”
I frowned, who is he? And why I am feeling scared of him.
He slides the paper toward me. It’s a legal notice, the one I was given to. But it's not the same, it has my debts written over it neatly summarized like my failure fits into columns.
He knows me. Him coming here was deliberate and planned. Because there is no way any random person would know about my debts.
My throat ached, tears stung my eyes but I didn't allow myself to cry. I laugh softly, trying to ease myself into this situation.
“Unless you’re here to donate a miracle, you’re wasting your time.”
A small smirk tugged on his lips.
"I don't believe in miracles Miss Moore, I believe in hard work. Which is why I am here." he spoke, like a final quote of some great man.
"What do you want?" my voice trembled without any reason. Maybe he is the government employee, but he doesn't look like one.
He looks as if he owns the whole of London.
"This cafe is still yours, Miss Moore but after few hours it won't be." I looked at vintage clock, I still have four hours before this day ends
He spoke without giving any expression, his face stoic. I scrunched my nose up and could feel my cheeks heating up. Did I say it out loud?
"I don't have much time for you to waste, you must stop your thought process, Miss Moore." I bit my lip.
Just because he is the most handsome man I have ever seen and he saved the latte from falling doesn't mean I have to put up with his attitude.
"Do I even know you, who are you to talk to me like that?" I ask, and quirked my brow up.
He didn't speak for a moment, but I could see his jaw flexing . So he doesn't like me talking back.
He slightly leans , his brown eyes observing me.
"I will come straight to the point...I have come here with a proposition for you."
I frowned.
“I don’t tolerate divided interests. So answer carefully… are you involved with anyone?”
I love his audacity for being so direct and commanding and then expecting me to answer him.
"And I would suggest you to shut the f**k up." I gritted out. Enough of his bullshit.
I glared at him and he held the eye contact with the same intensity.
“That wasn’t what I asked. Are you a virgin, Miss Moore?”
As the words left his mouth, my hand swung across his face, causing his pretty face to jerk aside.
I slapped him as hard as I could.
- Writer
