CHAPTER 1
1332 Words
Avira’s POV
I pressed my face against the airplane window, watching in horror as people grabbed parachutes ahead of me. The plane was falling apart, engines screaming, people screaming louder.
Five parachutes left. Four. Three.
My heart pounded like crazy as the plane tilted sideways, throwing me across the aisle. I scrambled up, hands sweaty as hell, and saw the last parachute hanging right above my seat.
One left.
I lunged for it - and another hand grabbed the same straps at the exact same time.
"No way," I whispered.
Gray eyes. Perfect jaw. Messy dark hair.
This couldn't be happening.
"You've got to be kidding me," Kyle Luggard muttered.
We stared at each other for a split second - two people who never wanted to see each other again, now fighting for our lives.
"Let go!" I yanked hard. "I saw it first!"
"Like hell!" He pulled back just as hard. "I was here first!"
The plane dropped again, making my stomach flip.
Two days. It had only been two days since I'd seen this jerk's face.
Two Days Earlier
"Ready for the morning rush!" I called out, pushing through the kitchen doors of The Lance Coffee shop with three carriers full of steaming cups.
Gina looked up from the machine, flour in her hair. "House of Luggard again?"
"Twenty-three cups." I grinned. "They tip really well, so I'm not complaining."
The morning air was cool as I walked across the street to the big shiny building. House of Luggard - the fanciest shoe company in New York. Their lobby always made me feel small with all that marble and those huge chandeliers, but hey, regular money was regular money. And I really needed the cash.
I walked through the spinning doors, going over my list in my head, when I heard expensive shoes clicking fast across the floor.
I looked up and saw trouble walking straight at me.
He was incredibly hot and tall - maybe six-two - with broad shoulders in a perfect gray suit. Dark hair that looked like he'd just run his fingers through it, even though it was barely nine in the morning.
But his eyes were what made me stop. Gray like a storm cloud, focused on something way past me.
He was walking right toward me.
And he wasn't planning to stop.
"Oh, crap…” I tried to move out of the way, but it was too late.
BAM.
He slammed into me like a truck. All three coffee carriers went flying, spinning through the air. Twenty-three cups of coffee splashed everywhere - across the floor, across his suit, across everything.
"OH MY GOD!" I shouted, watching the disaster spilling everywhere. "I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"
He just stood there, looking down at his coffee-covered shirt and jacket like someone had just murdered his dog.
"I can fix this!" I dropped down, grabbing napkins from my bag. "Here, let me…” I reached for his chest, but his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Hard.
"Don't." His voice was ice-cold. "Touch. Me."
But I was panicking. "Please, just let me help! I have club soda, and I know how to get stains out…”
"I said DON'T!"
His hand came up fast and slapped me across the face.
It wasn't hard enough to knock me down, but it was loud. Really loud. Everyone in the lobby stopped talking and stared.
I put my hand on my stinging cheek, eyes wide.
"Did you just..." I could barely get the words out. "Did you just hit me?"
Instead of saying sorry - instead of looking even a little bit sorry - he got madder. "You have no idea what you just cost me, you stupid…”
He never got to finish.
My hand moved fast. Years of boxing classes paid off as my palm cracked across his cheek like a whip.
He stumbled backward, hand flying to his face, mouth hanging open.
Around us, people pulled out their phones. Camera flashes went off everywhere.
I didn't say a word. I just got down and picked up all the empty cups, my hands shaking with anger. When I was done, I stood up, looked this rich jerk right in his gray eyes, and said loud enough for everyone to hear:
"Touch me again, and I'll do worse than mess up your fancy suit."
Then I turned around and walked out, leaving him standing in a puddle of coffee.
******
I walked back to the coffee shop, still shaking. My cheek was on fire where that asshole had hit me, and my hand was tingling from slapping him back.
"Holy s**t, Avira!" Gina dropped the mug she was cleaning. "What happened to your face?"
I touched my cheek and winced. "Nothing. Just had a run-in with some rich jackass."
"Nothing?" Gina rushed over, her eyes wide. "Girl, you look like you've been through a war zone. Your face is all red and…”
"I said it's nothing!" The words came out sharper than I meant them to.
Gina stepped back, hands up. "Okay, okay. But whoever did this to you…”
"Drop it, Gina." I pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen, needing space to breathe. My hands were still shaking as I leaned against the prep counter.
God, what was wrong with people? Who just hits someone like that? Over spilled coffee?
I splashed cold water on my face and tried to pull myself together. I still had a job to do, bills to pay. I couldn't let some entitled prick ruin my whole day.
*Thirty minutes later...*
I was wiping down tables when the front door slammed open so hard the windows shook.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"
Mr. Ben stomped across the café like an angry bull, his usually cheerful face filled with rage. In his hand, his phone was practically vibrating.
“Mr. Ben…”
"Don't you dare 'Mr. Ben' me!" He shoved the phone in my face, and I saw myself on the tiny screen. Slapping someone in a fancy lobby. "What did you DO, Avira?"
The video was grainy, but clear enough. Me slapping some guy, the sound echoing loudly, but you could definitely hear the c***k of my palm against his cheek. The funny thing about the video is that it didn’t show the part where he slapped me.
"I can explain…”
"Explain? EXPLAIN?" His voice cracked. "Explain why there's a video of you slapping KYLE LUGGARD trending on every social media platform in the city?"
Wait. What?
"Kyle... Luggard?" The name felt heavy on my tongue.
Mr. Ben's eye twitched. "Don't tell me you don't know who Kyle Luggard is."
"I..." Honestly? I had no clue. "Should I?"
"SHOULD YOU?" He looked like he might have a heart attack. "The Luggard family owns half of Manhattan! They could shut down every coffee shop on this block with one phone call!"
Oh. s**t.
"But he hit me first!" The words tumbled out. "I was just trying to help clean up the coffee I spilled on him, and he slapped me! Look at my face!"
"I don't care if he burned down your apartment!"
"That's not fair…”
"Fair?" Mr. Ben laughed sarcastically. "You think fair matters when you're dealing with people who have more money than God?"
My chest tightened. "Mr. Ben, please. Let me tell you what really happened. He walked right into me, didn't even look where he was going…”
"Stop talking."
"But if you just listen…”
"I said STOP!" His face was turning purple. "You're fired."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What?"
"Pack your things. Get out. Now."
"You can't be serious." My voice came out small and broken. "I need this job. You know I need this job."
"You should have thought about that before you decided to pick a fight with Kyle Luggard."
"I didn't pick a fight! He…”
"OUT!"
- Writer
