The Coffee Incident
1019 Words
The alarm didn't go off.
Sophia Carter bolted upright in bed, her heart hammering as sunlight streamed through her apartment windows. She grabbed her phone - 8:17 AM. Her first day at Knight Industries started in forty-three minutes, and she still needed to:
1. Shower
2. Dress
3. Navigate Manhattan rush hour
4. Somehow make a good impression on the most powerful CEO in New York
"s**t. s**t. Shit."
She was out the door in twenty-two minutes flat, her damp hair leaving dark spots on the shoulders of her hastily-ironed blazer. The Starbucks barista side-eyed her when she demanded the largest black coffee they had, no time for the vanilla latte she actually wanted.
The subway was a nightmare. Some tourist's oversized suitcase trapped her against the doors for three stops. When she finally burst onto the sidewalk at 42nd Street, her phone read 8:58. Two minutes to spare.
Sophia sprinted through the gleaming lobby of the Knight Industries tower, her heels clicking frantically against the marble floor. The security guard took one look at her wild eyes and waved her through. The elevator doors started closing - she lunged forward, barely slipping inside.
A group of equally nervous-looking interns huddled in the corner. One guy in a too-tight tie gave her a sympathetic look.
"First day?" he whispered.
Sophia nodded, trying to smooth her hair. The elevator numbers climbed. 30...35...40...
The doors opened on the 42nd floor at exactly 9:01 AM.
She was late.
Sophia bolted out of the elevator, scanning for the conference room where orientation was being held. Then - impact.
A wall of muscle and expensive cologne.
Her coffee exploded between them, scalding liquid soaking into crisp white cotton. Papers flew everywhere. A collective gasp came from the interns behind her.
Time slowed.
Sophia looked up - way up - into the iciest blue eyes she'd ever seen. Sharp enough to cut glass. Currently glaring at her like she'd personally offended his ancestors.
Her stomach dropped to her coffee-stained heels.
Damien Knight.
The CEO. The billionaire. The man whose "Why Millennials Ruin Companies" Forbes article had gone viral last year. The reason she'd almost turned down this internship until her student loan balance convinced her otherwise.
A single drop of coffee slid down his perfect jawline.
Her mouth moved before her brain could engage.
"Maybe if you didn't loom in doorways like a brooding Batman villain, this wouldn't happen."
Silence.
Absolute, terrifying silence.
Someone behind her made a noise like a strangled cat. The too-tight tie guy looked like he might pass out.
Damien's gaze dropped to the mess of papers on the floor - her résumé, now with an impressive coffee stain across "Sophia Carter, MBA Candidate, Columbia University." When his eyes met hers again, they held a dangerous glint.
"HR," he said, voice like frozen steel. "Now."
Sophia's face burned. She opened her mouth to apologize, to explain, to maybe throw herself out the nearest window - but Damien had already stepped over her scattered papers and disappeared down the hall.
The interns parted like the Red Sea as she knelt to gather her things. Her hands shook. Four years of straight A's. Two internships. Countless all-nighters. All ruined in three seconds because she'd insulted the CEO's brooding aesthetic.
Too-tight tie crouched beside her. "That was...wow."
"I'm dead," Sophia whispered. "That's it. My career is over before it started."
A sharp click of heels approached. Sophia looked up to see a severe-looking woman in a navy pantsuit holding a tissue box like it was a weapon.
"Miss Carter? I'm Linda from HR. Mr. Knight would like a word."
The walk to the executive floor was the longest of Sophia's life. Linda didn't speak, just marched ahead like a prison warden leading her to execution.
The office was exactly what she expected - all sleek lines and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. Damien stood by the glass, back turned, already wearing a fresh shirt. The coffee-stained one was draped over a chair like a crime scene exhibit.
"Close the door," he said without turning around.
Linda obeyed, leaving Sophia alone with the lion in his den.
Damien turned. The morning light caught the sharp angles of his face, making him look even more like some kind of corporate god. Up close, she could see faint stubble darkening his jaw, the slight crease between his brows.
"Miss Carter." He picked up her ruined résumé from his desk. "Columbia, huh?"
She swallowed. "Yes, sir."
"Top of your class."
"Third, actually."
His eyebrow arched. "Honest. Interesting." He circled the desk, movements predatory. "Do you know why I wrote that Forbes article?"
Sophia's mouth went dry. "Because...you hate millennials?"
"Because incompetence wastes my time." He stopped inches away. "And you've wasted a great deal of it already."
The scent of his cologne wrapped around her - something expensive and woodsy with a hint of citrus. It should have been illegal to smell that good while being that terrifying.
"I'm sorry about the coffee," she managed. "And the Batman thing. I was nervous and-"
"Do you know what happens now?"
Sophia braced herself. "You fire me?"
A beat. Then Damien smiled. It wasn't friendly.
"Normally, yes." He tossed her résumé on the desk. "But my CFO seems to think you're some kind of prodigy. Convinced me to give you one chance."
Sophia blinked. "He...what?"
"One project," Damien continued as if she hadn't spoken. "The Kensington account. Fix it by Friday or you're gone."
Her mind raced. The Kensington merger was all over the business news - a disaster in the making after someone leaked sensitive data. "But that's-"
"Impossible? Then quit now."
Sophia straightened her shoulders. "I'll do it."
Damien's gaze flicked over her, unreadable. "We'll see." He turned back to the window. "Your desk is outside. Don't spill anything on it."
Dismissed.
Sophia was halfway to the door when his voice stopped her.
"And Miss Carter?"
She turned.
"Next time you compare me to a comic book character?" That dangerous smile returned. "At least pick one who wins."
The door clicked shut behind her. Sophia exhaled shakily.
Game on.
- Writer
