Chapter 6
1339 Words
“I spilled coffee. On my boss. The boss,” she muttered to herself, dropping her forehead onto the desk with a quiet thud. “Why me? Why is it always me?”
Three days. She had survived three whole days without doing anything completely embarrassing. And now… she had gone and poured coffee all over the most intimidating man alive. His face hadn't even changed much, just that cold, unreadable stare that made her feel two inches tall. And then the way he’d quietly told Natalia to handle it… The silence had been worse than if he’d yelled.
Lila sat back up and covered her face with her hands.
“I’m cursed,” she whispered. “Maybe I stepped on a sacred flower or insulted a ghost. There’s no other explanation.”
Just then, a soft voice interrupted her spiral. “Lila? Are you okay?”
She peeked through her fingers to see Harper, the woman from the marketing department she had chatted with during lunch on her first day. Right behind her was Jonah, also one of the people she had met. He was holding a cup of tea and wearing the same sympathetic look people usually give to puppies in the rain.
“I heard,” Jonah said gently, placing the cup on her desk. “We all did.”
“Oh God,” Lila groaned, slumping in her chair. “Is everyone talking about it?”
“Well,” Harper hesitated. “Maybe a little. But only because it’s Damien Blackthorne. You know how people are.”
“It was an accident,” Lila mumbled. “I was just trying to do my job and I did not see him coming, I couldn't even hear his footsteps, all I knew was I collided with a wall, and… boom. Coffee. On him.”
“I bet it wasn’t even that bad,” Jonah said, pulling over a chair. “He didn’t fire you, right?”
“Not yet,” Lila said, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “But Natalia looked like she wanted to set me on fire with her eyes.”
Harper chuckled and handed Lila a small chocolate from her desk drawer. “She always looks like that. Don’t take it personally.”
“But I was doing so well,” Lila said, unwrapping the chocolate slowly. “I came in early today. I double-checked every file. I didn’t even trip in the hallway. And now—”
“Hey,” Jonah interrupted, nudging her gently. “One spill doesn’t define you. It’s just coffee. He probably forgot about it already.”
Lila snorted. “You didn’t see his face. He didn’t yell, but that look? I felt like I was melting from the inside out.”
“Look,” Harper said with a soft smile. “You’ve only been here three days and you already made the biggest man in the building stop and notice you. I say that’s a win.”
Lila blinked. “That is the worst spin I’ve ever heard.”
“Still counts!” Hannah grinned.
Lila let out a small laugh, the tight knot in her chest loosening just a bit. She looked at her friends and smiled, her voice quieter now. “Thanks, guys. I really thought I’d blown everything.”
“You didn’t,” Jonah said firmly. “You’re here. You’re learning. You’re doing better than the previous assistants.”
“And,” Harper added, “if it helps, we all have our horror stories. Ask me later about the time I accidentally sent Mr. Blackthorne a GIF of a dancing banana instead of the sales deck.”
Lila’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was,” Harper groaned.
Lila laughed, this time for real. The kind that made her feel like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.
—--
Damien stood by the large window overlooking the city skyline, his crisp white shirt still faintly stained by the unfortunate splash of coffee. He stared ahead, jaw clenched, fingers slightly flexing at his sides.
Three days.
She’d only been here three days.
His suits were tailored from a brand so exclusive even the elite struggled to get fittings, and now this one wore a stain.
Yet all he could think about was her face.
Wide, horrified eyes. The way she’d scrambled, mumbling apologies, pulling the napkin from the tray and trying to clean him up with trembling hands. Her cheeks flushed, her voice shaking. And then what she said
"I'll clean, I–I can pay for the dry cleaning or–
He remembered the panic in her voice, the way her fingers hovered over his shirt like she didn’t know if she was allowed to touch him or not.
But she looked Bright. Nervous. Like a light trying to shine through a storm.
Damien blinked and turned away from the window. Her face annoyed him. Not because of anything, but because it affected him, the way she looked at him, the way her face heated up from embarrassment and horror. It had an effect on him, on that spot.
He hit the intercom button. “Natalia.”
A moment later, the door opened. Natalia stepped in, poised and polished as always. Her heels clicked softly across the floor, her hands clasped in front of her black pencil skirt.
“Yes, Mr. Blackthorne?”
“I want Lila Carter’s file,” he said without looking at her.
Natalia paused.
“I’m sorry?” Her tone was polite, but her eyes were filled with disbelief. “Her file, sir?”
Damien slowly turned toward her. “Yes.”
Natalia hesitated again. “But… she’s a junior assistant. And she’s only been here three days. You’ve never requested the file of an assistant before.”
“I have now.”
Natalia blinked, clearly taken aback, but quickly nodded. “Right away.”
As she moved to turn, she stopped herself. “If I may ask, sir… is this about the incident earlier? Should I begin looking for a replacement?”
Damien didn’t answer right away.
He considered it. Really thought about it.
It wouldn’t take much, just a word from him, and she’d be gone. The stain on his shirt, the distraction, the noise, he didn’t have time for any of it.
But then again… she’d looked so scared. So small. Yet still, she'd stood there, babbling about paying for the dry cleaning of a thousand-dollar suit like it was a T-shirt. Like her heart might burst from panic but she still wanted to fix it.
He exhaled softly, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“She said she’d pay for the dry cleaning of the suit,” he muttered to himself, almost amused. “That alone should’ve gotten her fired.”
Natalia frowned. “Then… shall I handle the termination?”
“No.”
“No?”
Damien finally met her gaze, eyes sharp. “You heard me.”
Natalia’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Sir, with respect, she spilled coffee on you. If we start letting mistakes like this slide—”
“She made a mistake. She panicked. She tried to fix it,” Damien said flatly. “She didn't run.”
Natalia stiffened. “Still, I don’t think she’s suited for—”
“You don’t get paid to think,” Damien cut in, his voice cold. “You work for me, Natalia. Not the other way around.”
The room froze for a beat.
Natalia’s eyes flashed, but she schooled her face into calmness. “Of course, Mr. Blackthorne.”
“Bring me her file,” Damien said, walking back to his desk. “Then get back to your work.”
“Yes, sir.”
She turned and left, heels a little sharper on the floor than when she’d entered.
Damien sat down, running a hand across his jaw.
Lila Carter. Junior assistant. Three days on the job.
And somehow… still on his mind.
- Writer
