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Breathing in deeply, I grab the company card, then head to the coffee shop outside the building, assuming that’s where Daniel gets his coffee.
Then I stop when I catch that the name is different from the one in my notes. I put it in the maps app and have to do a whole fifteen-minute tour on foot—while wearing freaking heels—to finally find the place.
Why can’t he use the normal coffee shop near the firm? Better yet, there’s a perfectly equipped cafeteria at Weaver & Shaw from which all the employees get premium coffee, but how can he be a bastard if he doesn’t get his coffee from some obscure place away from the main street?
Once I get inside, I’m surprised by how small and cozy the coffee shop is, almost like it has the traditional setting of a pub. The name is Italian, though—Dolcezza.
The strong smell of fresh coffee makes me crave one myself, but one glance at the prices and I completely change my mind.
Yeah, I’ll just make a regular one in the office.
After I get Daniel’s coffee, I place half a teaspoon of sugar, assuming that’s relatively close to the one gram he spoke of.
When I get to his office, I’m sweating like a pig and my feet are screaming in pain from the marathon I just went through.
Straightening my shoulders, I knock on the door, then go inside at his gruff “Come in.”
I find him staring at his watch. “Not only do you not bring coffee on time, but you’re also another thirty minutes late.”
“The coffee shop is fifteen minutes away.”
“Not my problem. Walk faster.” He snaps his fingers, which is my cue to give it to him.
I hand him the coffee and rein in an exasperated sigh.
He takes a sip, then his lips twist. “Did I not say one gram of sugar?”
“That’s what I put approximately.”
“That’s more than one gram, Ms. Adler, and don’t do “approximately” again.” Then he throws the cup of coffee in the rubbish bin.
The cup I went to hell and back for is now in the rubbish.
“Go get me a new one and make it right this time. I want you here in twenty minutes and you’ll make up for the extra hour you wasted.”
He’s got to be kidding me.
I stare at him, but no, he’s not kidding. He’s staring at me with expectation.
He lifts his chin in that haughty, jerk way. “Do you have a problem with what I just asked, Ms. Adler?”
Oh, I get it now.
He’s trying to make me quit, isn’t he?
Well, he doesn’t know who the heck he’s dealing with.
“No, sir,” I say, another fake smile plastered on my face. “I’ll get a replacement right away.”
I can play your game, jerk.
If this is his form of revenge, then I’m playing, too.
We’ll see who will hold on until the end.
3
DANIEL
