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“Morning, Mr. Knight,” Thomas says as he opens the door for me to get in.
“Good morning, Thomas. How is Marie doing?”
As he slides into the driver’s seat, he answers, “Oh, doing much better. Thank you for the dinner you sent us last night. It was a wonderful treat.”
Thomas has been my driver for a few years now, and I know his wife is going through tough times with her chemotherapy treatment. She has been in and out of hospitals for months now. I know that must take a toll on them, so I try to help out whenever I can. I was able to pull some strings and get her into the best medical facility in New York. They have a new treatment available, that otherwise wouldn’t have been a possibility financially for Thomas and his wife, so I paid for everything. My parents instilled this behavior in my brother,Sebastian, and me since we were little. My mother always says that “Actions speak louder than words.” So, I wanted to let Thomas know, he is an integral part of this company.
“It was no trouble at all. I’m happy you could have a relaxing night together. Thomas, I need to grab a coffee before heading into the office today,” I reply, as I get out my phone and begin scrolling through the piles of emails that have accumulated overnight.
Damnit, it’s only been eight hours since I last checked my emails, and they are already sky high. As I finish replying to an investor that wants to meet next week, the car comes to a stop in front of the little coffee shop that I frequent since it is right around the corner from my office.
Thomas speaks up getting my attention, “We have arrived, sir. I’ll wait here for you unless you would like me to fetch your order for you this morning?”
“Thank you for the offer, Thomas, but I think I would like to get some fresh air for a bit. Would you care for anything?”
“No, thank you. Marie packed me a thermos today. She’s such a good woman.”
As I get out of the car, I remark, “You are a lucky man to have found the one.” With a smile he nods, and I head toward the shop. Walking through the throngs of people on the sidewalk, I replay the words my father once told me, and smile. Thomas found his one, too. Maybe there is hope for me after all.
As I step through the doors, I am hit with the wonderful aroma of coffee. I don’t see how anyone can get anything done without coffee. I drink at least three cups a day. I know, I know, it’s not healthy, but it’s essential when you work the hours that I do. Usually, I have my assistant bring them tome, but I thought I would grab one on the way this morning. The shop is a bit crowded today, but I am almost certain it’s because it’s Black Friday. Everyone and their mother are out and about shopping and obviously getting their caffeine fill in the process. When I finally approach the counter, I put in my usual order and under the name “Austen”, which I always use to have a sense of anonymity.
I have been using this name at coffee shops and such since I was in college. My friends used to think it was hilarious that I couldn’t go anywhere without a crowd gathering around, like some kind of royalty. I hated it and they knew it; but they liked giving me shit about it. I didn’t want that experience in college. I wanted to just feel normal for once, and so that’s when I began giving a fake name at coffee shops. Obviously, it didn’t shield me from everyone like Clark Kent’s glasses, but it helped. Over time it became a habit, one that I still use today.
Since I am named after my father, Benjamin Miles Knight Sr., I go by Miles instead of Benjamin, unlike him. Miles is a common enough name, but I still use aliases to get by as unnoticed as possible. Since being in the headlines lately for an incident involving the company, I would rather not cause a spectacle. Even a short trip to a coffee shop can cause an uproar in the tabloids. I honestly don’t understand the appeal for people to read about this type of thing, but it still happens.
I keep my head down and move to the waiting area, pull out my phone again, and see that my brother has texted me. Sebastian is three years younger than I, and he is the CFO of Knight Publishing Company. He may be my little brother, but he is also my best friend.
Seb:We have plans tonight. I hope you are ready.
Miles:I thought the Calloway investors were rescheduled?
Seb:They did. I’m not talking about that. That new club VIBE has its opening tonight, and we are on the VIP list. You’re going. No excuses!
I sigh, looking down at the message. It’s been a long week. I haven’t left the office before 9:00 p.m. one night this entire week, and then I have more work waiting for me when I get home. Maybe I need to hire another assistant. I was looking forward to enjoying a drink on my balcony overlooking New York City and maybe get a few manuscripts read before Monday.
Seb:I know you read the message. You need to get out, and tonight is the night.
Miles:You are just wanting a wingman. Why not ask Samuel?
Samuel is our first cousin and just got back from a tour in Afghanistan. He was honorably discharged from the Army after he received a Purple Heart medal for sustaining injuries from an IED—improvised explosive device—during combat.
Seb:I do not need a wingman. The ladies just come to me. You know this! I just want to spend some time with my bro outside of the office and have a bit of fun. What’s the harm in that? Besides, Samuel is still healing. I texted him to see if he would like to join us.
Miles:There better not be news outlets there. And you better not make another scene. I don’t think we pay Marcie enough to cover up your shenanigans as it is.
Seb:This is a private club. We aren’t going to have to worry about fan girls tonight. And for your peace of mind, I will be on my absolute best behavior, big brother. ;)
I roll my eyes at that last text. Sebastian doesn’t know how to be on his best behavior. At least I will be there with him tonight, so I can keep an eye on him. Marcie, our publicrelations representative, has her hands full with my brother, and some with myself on occasion, but she does an excellent job of keeping us out of the press and mostly out of trouble.
Miles:Fine, I’ll go. I’ll be in the office in fifteen. Just grabbing a coffee.
“Austen, your coffee is ready,” the barista behind the counter yells. As I make my way through the throng of people to the counter, a woman comes out of nowhere and grabs the coffee at the same time I do. Our hands graze and a bolt of electricity shoots up my arm and through my body. The sensation is one that I haven’t felt before. I am momentarily annoyed that someone would have the audacity to steal another’s coffee. Who would do that? I look down at the culprit standing next to me that has her hand on my coffee and am temporarily speechless.
The crowd around us seems to fade into the background as I gaze at this magnificent creature. This woman is stunning. She has olive skin, and her rich black hair falls down her back in these beautiful, soft waves. When she looks up at me, I am taken aback at the glow of her lustrous brown eyes. They are large and exquisite with gold flakes sprinkled in them, and her long black eyelashes seem to flutter up and down in slow motion as she stares up at me. The smell of her vanilla perfume assaults my senses in the best possible way, and it’s hard for me to stop staring at her. Her green dress hugs her delicious curves, and the black belt and boots accentuate the color of her hair. She obviously knows her style. This woman is utterly breathtaking. I realize that she is still staring at me, and I manage to ask with a bit more accusation than I intended, “Is your name Austen?”
She looks nervous and starts to fidget as she drops her hold onto the cup and looks back to me. “No, well, yes in this case. I oftentimes use different authors’ names when I place a coffee order.”
A smile quirks on my face. “That’s a very intriguing idea. So, today I assume you are Jane Austen?” A blush creeps on her face as she looks up into my eyes. I feel like they are looking into my very soul. I can see that her eyes are surprised but smiling that I recognize the author’s name. It’s mesmerizing looking into those expressive chocolate pools, and I don’t see a hint of recognition of who I am, which is very unexpected. I don’t remember the last time someone was this close to me and didn’t instantly recognize me from the tabloids or media in general. Women fall all over me, mainly because of my billionaire/CEO title. It makes it difficult to find a genuine person in this huge city. This makes her even more intriguing.
