Chapter Two

1807 Words
"Good morning, what can I get for you today?" I tried to maintain a professional demeanor while keeping a smile on my face. It was only my second day on the job, so I wanted to make a good impression. Earlier, Dave had completely ruined my day with his unexpected appearance. You'd think that after two years, he would understand that we were never getting back together. He seemed to have this delusional idea that his apologies and unsolicited gifts would change my mind. "Um, actually, I wanted to ask you something, if that's okay." The man said. I eyed him cautiously, wondering what he was about to ask. I hoped it was going to be about the coffee options or desserts available. I was prepared to call security and have him kicked out if he made inappropriate requests. But upon taking another look at him, I could tell he wasn't that type of person. I had kept an eye on him since he walked in with his friend ten minutes ago. They had just sat there, engaged in conversation, and I couldn't help but wonder if they had any plans on placing an order. He was dressed in a sleek black suit, and his expression seemed serious. He couldn't have been older than thirty. If he wasn't a businessman, I would have guessed he was a bodyguard. “But, him being a bodyguard would mean the other man at their seat was his boss.” I inwardly pondered. I nodded, giving him the go-ahead to ask his question. "Um, do you perhaps remember my bos—uh, friend? He thinks you two have met before." He said, causing my expression to fall. I glanced over at the other man. He was dressed in a sleek suit, and wearing black sunglasses at such an early hour. Although I couldn’t see his face clearly, I was certain I hadn't met him before. "No, I don't think so. I've never seen him before." I replied honestly, shifting my gaze between the man before me and his mysterious friend. "Are you... sure about that?" He asked, his tone making me frown in confusion. "Yes, I am. I only just moved here a week ago.” I was forced to say. “Is there a reason you are asking this on his behalf?” It wasn’t my business but I couldn’t help but ask. I was genuinely curious. "Is he perhaps shy?" I added, trying to make sense of it all. He chuckled and shook his head. "No, he's not shy. He's just... well, he's a bit reserved. Anyway, thanks for checking. Oh, and we'll have two cups of coffee. No sugar, just heavy cream." he requested, diverting the conversation back to the coffee order. I nodded, assuring him that their coffee would be ready at their table shortly. As I began brewing the coffee, I couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue and anticipation. There was something about his friend that piqued my curiosity. The coffee shop was short-staffed that morning, so I had to handle both the role of waitress and barista. "Here's your coffee. Enjoy." I said as I placed their cups on the table, turning to head back to my station. But just as I took a step away, I heard a deep, commanding voice say, "Stop!" It was an authoritative tone that compelled me to freeze in my tracks. I couldn't help but wonder why I instinctively obeyed. My head snapped in the direction of the voice, and there he was—the man in sunglasses. There was something about him that held an inexplicable power over me. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but his mere presence commanded attention. His gaze was fixed on the coffee cup before him as if lost in deep thought. I stood there, waiting anxiously for him to break the silence. But to my surprise, he remained silent, leaving me puzzled and slightly annoyed. Why did he go through the trouble of stopping me, only to stay silent afterward? It was frustrating, but I had to maintain my composure. After all, he was a customer, and I needed his money. "Is there something wrong with your coffee, sir?" I asked, mustering a polite smile despite my growing impatience. Still, silence hung in the air, with no response forthcoming. I glanced at his companion, who seemed engrossed in his coffee, pretending to be oblivious to the tension between us. I waited, my mind racing with thoughts. I knew I hadn't made a mistake with the order; I had been meticulous. But still, he remained silent, leaving me to wonder what was going on. Five seconds passed. Then ten. And finally, fifteen. Unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, I decided to break the silence. "Well, if it's not the coffee, then I'll leave you to enjoy it. Just let me know if you need anything." I replied, my voice tinged with a hint of frustration, before retreating to my station. 'What was that all about? How dare he toy with me like that?' I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. But I knew I had to maintain a friendly demeanor for the sake of the other customers. About five minutes later, the friend of the mysterious guy with sunglasses sauntered up to the counter. He had a laid-back vibe, unlike his buddy. "Um, hey there. I was going to ask for the bill." he said, his voice slightly hesitant. I couldn't help but notice how he skillfully avoided making eye contact with me, just like earlier when he placed their orders. I nodded and grabbed the bill from the counter, glancing at the total. I gently slid it across the counter to him. "Here you go," I said with a friendly smile. "Er, um, and I'm sorry about his behavior earlier." he mumbled, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "No worries." I replied, mustering a smile. "I've dealt with his type before." "His type?" he asked, raising a brow as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. "Yeah, you know, rude customers. We get them a lot around here." I explained while counting out his change. "Oh, sorry about that. And, uh, about the change, don't worry about it. You can toss it in the tip jar or something." He suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. I looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes for the first time that morning. They were a warm shade of hazel, and I couldn't help but notice a flicker of sincerity in them. "Well, that's a generous tip." I mumbled "Are you sure about it? You're not going to come back later and accuse me of swiping your change, are you?" I asked, giving him a skeptical glance. He seemed taken aback by my remark. "Apologies. We've had customers pull that stunt in the past, so I just wanted to make sure. " I explained. It was one of the many stories my employer had told me. "I wouldn't do that, never." He said earnestly. I studied his face, searching for any signs of deception, but his eyes held a sincerity that I couldn't ignore. "Okay, I appreciate your honesty," I replied, a sense of relief washing over me. With a grateful smile, I dropped the change into the tip jar. He gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable before he turned to leave. As he walked away, I couldn't help but notice that his friend had also risen from their table, their eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made me slightly uneasy. Taking a deep breath, I made my way towards their table to retrieve the empty cups. The atmosphere seemed to shift, and I could feel a pair of eyes burning holes into the side of my head. I glanced discreetly over my shoulder, and there he was—the guy with the sunglasses. The one who had sent his friend to approach me earlier, with an air of arrogance that rubbed me the wrong way. I rolled my eyes internally, refusing to let his presence affect me. “Who did he think he was? Acting as if he were too important to speak to someone like me—a mere coffee shop barista.” I scoffed at the thought, knowing that if he truly held himself in such high regard, he wouldn't be paying for a cup of coffee prepared by someone he deemed beneath him. I gathered the empty cups on the tray and as I turned to leave, I couldn't shake the feeling that the sunglasses guy's gaze lingered on me, his scrutiny almost tangible. It was clear that he had no shortage of confidence, but his rudeness got on my nerves. I despised people who lacked basic manners, and he was no exception. Silently, I wished he wouldn't come back again, hoping to avoid any further encounters with his arrogant demeanor. But fate had other plans as if mocking my wishful thinking. Just as I had resigned myself to the hope that he had left for good, he suddenly stormed back into the shop, his presence commanding attention. There was something about his approach that sent a shiver down my spine. Even with his sunglasses concealing half of his face, the straight line of his lips spoke volumes. He was undeniably angry, but at whom? And why did it seem as though I was the reason behind his ire? His stance exuded an air of power and dominance, sending a chill down my spine. Every fiber of my being trembled in the face of his intimidating presence. I struggled to maintain eye contact, as his dark sunglasses obscured his eyes, adding an extra layer of mystery and unease. "I-is something w-wrong, sir?" I stammered, my voice betraying my fear as it quivered. "You," he snapped, his voice dripping with condescension, causing my heart to skip a beat. His words hung in the air, sharp and cutting, leaving me feeling small and insignificant. And then, in a moment that felt like it unfolded in slow motion, he removed his sunglasses, revealing his face. Time seemed to stand still as the realization hit me like a thunderbolt. My breath caught in my throat, and my hand instinctively flew to cover my gaping mouth, my eyes widening in intense shock. The memories flooded my mind, a gush of guilt, regret, anger, and disbelief crashing over me. I never thought that our paths would cross again. It was him, the billionaire whose company I had almost single-handedly driven to the brink of bankruptcy. The man who had tried to kill me two years ago, the reason I had fled for Mexico. It was the bastard who had killed my parents. David Marchetti.
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