THE COFFEE CRISIS
1021 Words
By 7:45 a.m., everyone in Argent & Slate Consulting knew something was wrong.
People whispered in the hallway. Someone gasped dramatically near the elevators. A few analysts held mugs with the hopelessness of soldiers clutching their final rations.
The coffee machine — the sacred silver monument powering 83% of the company’s sanity — was dead.
Arden Vesper stood in front of it, staring at the “ERROR 099” message like it had personally betrayed him. He wore a crisp charcoal suit today, hair slightly messy in a way that looked intentional. The kind of messy that made Nova’s stomach do that inconvenient flutter thing.
Nova entered the break room just in time to hear Arden mutter something that sounded like a very controlled, very professional insult.
She tried not to smile. “Rough morning?”
Arden turned. “The machine has died.”
“So… very rough.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had three meetings before 10. I needed caffeine to maintain the illusion that I’m patient.”
Nova raised a brow. “You’re usually patient?”
“Illusion, Nova. I said illusion.”
She snorted.
He didn’t smile, but something about his expression softened.
One of the IT guys rushed in. “We’re trying to reboot the machine, sir. It’ll take about an hour—”
Arden looked personally offended. “An hour?”
Nova whispered, “Sir, your leadership is slipping. The staff is beginning to panic.”
He leaned closer. “So you’re mocking me before coffee. Brave.”
Her pulse quickened. Why did his voice always drop like that when he teased her?
But she quickly cleared her throat. “I have a solution.”
Arden crossed his arms, intrigued. “Go on.”
“There's a café across the street. I can grab a coffee for you before your meetings.”
The room fell silent. Analysts practically froze mid-step.
No one — no one — offered to run errands for Arden Vesper. He hated inconveniencing people. He did everything himself. Some joked that if he could split into four clones to multitask, he would.
But instead of saying no, Arden said something else entirely:
“Come with me.”
The analysts collectively gasped.
Nova blinked. “W-With you?”
“Yes. Walking might clear my head. And if I go alone, they’ll assume I’m abandoning the company in a caffeine-deprived rage.”
“Reasonable fear,” Nova nodded.
He shot her a dry look.
---
THE WALK
The morning city air was crisp as they crossed the street. Nova tried not to think too hard about how close they were walking. Or how Arden matched his stride to hers without thinking.
He wasn’t talking, which meant he was thinking — deeply. His “processing mode,” as she’d begun to call it.
Finally, she asked, “So what’s really bothering you? I mean, besides the tragic demise of our caffeine source.”
His jaw tightened.
“There’s a problem with the HelixCorp account,” he admitted.
“The one involving the data breach rumors?”
Arden shot her a surprised glance. “How do you know about that?”
“I read the reports before anyone else saw them,” she said casually. “There were inconsistencies. Felt… staged.”
He stopped walking.
Just stopped.
“Oh no,” she said softly. “You’re doing the staring thing again.”
“Nova,” his voice was low, “you are full of surprises.”
Surprises. Right. The word warmed her more than the sunlight hitting her face.
---
THE CAFE INCIDENT
The café was crowded, but Arden’s presence parted the line like Moses parting the Red Sea.
Until—
“Arden Vesper,” a honey-sweet voice said behind him.
Nova turned.
And immediately regretted it.
A woman in a sleek red dress stood there. Perfect curls, designer heels, confidence that practically glowed. Someone who clearly knew Arden well — too well.
“Celine,” Arden said slowly.
His tone had… layers. Complicated ones.
Nova raised a brow.
“Who’s this?” Celine asked, eyes flicking toward Nova with a too-sweet smile.
“Nova Sinclair,” Arden replied. “She works with me.”
“Works with you,” Celine repeated, as if those words were a code she was deciphering. “In what… capacity?”
Nova resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Research department.”
Celine smiled the way foxes probably smiled before stealing chickens.
“Well, Arden and I go way back,” she said in a voice dripping honey and warning. “But you probably know that.”
Nova did not know that.
Arden cleared his throat. “Celine, we’re in a bit of a hurry.”
“Oh, of course,” Celine said, brushing his sleeve lightly before turning away.
Nova felt something she refused to name tighten in her chest.
---
BACK OUTSIDE
“Old friend?” Nova asked.
Arden exhaled slowly. “Something like that.”
“That’s vague.”
“It’s the best version.”
“So… an enemy,” Nova decided.
His lips twitched. “You read too much suspense fiction.”
“And you avoid too many honest explanations.”
He paused.
Then:
“You’re not wrong.”
It wasn’t an apology, but it was close. And somehow, it meant even more.
---
THE SUSPICIOUS BLACK SEDAN
As they waited to cross back to the office, Nova noticed a black sedan parked down the street — the same one she’d seen the night before when leaving work.
Same model. Same dent on the bumper.
Her stomach tightened.
Arden noticed her staring. “Something wrong?”
“Maybe nothing,” Nova lied. “Just thought I saw that car yesterday.”
Arden followed her gaze.
His eyes sharpened — like a switch flipping.
“We’ll talk about that later,” he said quietly. “Inside the office.”
For the first time, Nova realized something:
Arden Vesper wasn’t just a brilliant executive.
He might be involved in something dangerous.
And someone — maybe more than one someone — was watching them.
- Writer
