Black coffee sweet tea
364 Words
The next evening, Cassandra found herself back at the diner, apron tied, hair pulled into a loose bun. She tried to focus on the rhythm of work — the hiss of the grill, the clatter of plates — but her mind kept circling back to the night before.
When the door chimed, she already knew who it was. Edwin entered, his presence filling the room like smoke. Collins followed, his smile softer tonight, but his eyes sharper.
They took the same booth. Cassandra approached, coffee pot in hand, but Edwin stopped her with a gesture.
“Sit,” he said. Not a request. A command.
Her breath caught. “I’m working.”
“You’re wasted here,” Edwin replied, his tone low but firm. “I could give you more. A safer life. Better pay. Respect.”
Collins leaned back, smirking. “Or you could just have tea with me. No contracts, no strings.”
Cassandra’s pulse raced. Two men, two worlds. One offering power, the other offering.
Later, when Edwin stepped outside to take a call, Collins leaned across the booth. His voice dropped, serious now.
“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he said. “Edwin doesn’t ask. He takes. If he wants you here, you’ll be here. If he wants you gone…” He let the words trail off, but the meaning was clear.
Cassandra swallowed hard. “And you? What do you want?”
Collins’s grin returned, softer this time. “I want you to choose for yourself. Not because he tells you to. Not because I charm you into it. Just… because you want to.”
Her chest tightened. For the first time, she realized Collins wasn’t just teasing. He meant it.
That night, Cassandra walked home alone, her thoughts tangled. Edwin’s offer echoed in her mind — safety, respect, power. Collins’s warning lingered too — freedom, choice, danger.
She stopped at a corner café, staring at the menu. Tea or coffee. The words mocked her.
She ordered neither. She walked out into the cold, realizing the choice wasn’t about drinks at all. It was about survival. About desire. About which man would change her life forever.
- Writer
