I’ll admit I did not use my best business skills while Seraphine was in my home. I’d hoped to make up for that by visiting her at her place of employment.
Over the years, I’ve become exceptional at convincing people to do what I want them to. It’s how I got where I am today. Yet that charm and charisma did nothing to sway her decision when I told her to work for me. She simply said no. No one tells me no. And not always because they don’t want to, but because my status intimidates them. And hell yes, I use that to my advantage. Why wouldn’t I? What’s the point of having power if you don’t use it?
From the outside, I’d think Seraphine Sinclair was a gold digger. She comes from nothing, has a dead-end job, and jumped into a relationship with my son way too quickly. But after getting to know her, as well as I can in the short time I’ve spent withher, I sense that isn’t the case. It just seems her and my son came from different walks in life and ended up together.
That isn’t too far from my own situation with his mother, only the tables were reversed. I was the nobody and she was everything. I try not to judge too harshly on those who are considered poor, because I once was myself. But it’s hard not to when I was able to pick myself up and make it to the top, while others use their energy to whine and complain about the bad hand they were dealt in life instead of doing something about it.
Regardless of my two failed attempts at getting Seraphine to work for me, I will not fail again today. Seraphine will agree to work for me by the end of the day if it’s the last thing I do. At this point, it isn’t about keeping an eye on her over this situation with my son sleeping with his stepsister, but something else entirely. Something I can’t quite put a name on—or rather,won’t.
I kick my foot up, planting it on the brick building behind me as I lean against it, putting my hands in my pants pockets. It’s a chilly morning, but not enough to require more than the jacket that goes with my suit.
Charcoal plaid isn’t what I typically wear, it’s too flashy for everyday business, but I think it’ll help get Seraphine’s attention, which is what I’m going for. Checking my watch, I figure she’ll be arriving any minute now. She stops here every morning before her shift to get a coffee and a muffin. I’ve been watching. Studying. The only way to get what you want from people isto learn their likes, dislikes, and most importantly, their weaknesses. I haven’t found any of those from her yet, but I will. I just need more time—and I have plenty of that.
A squeaky car door slams closed from my right, and I glance that way, unable to hide the smirk when I see her shoving her keys into her purse, dark hair flying everywhere. She struggles to tuck it behind her ears, somehow managing to make it look purposefully messy. Seraphine doesn’t see me right away. In fact, she doesn’t see me at all. Damn well walks right past me, which I try not to be offended over.
“Good morning,” I say loudly enough for her to hear. With her hand outreached to grab the door to the coffee shop, she looks toward me, frowning. And when recognition hits her eyes, she frowns deeper.
“Mr. Caldwell?” She looks around, as if I could be speaking to someone else—but why would I want to do that when she’s right here in front of me?
“It’s nice to see you again, Seraphine.” I push off the wall and move toward her, grabbing the door and pulling it open then gesturing for her to go inside.
“It’s just Sera.”
I nod, knowing that will never happen. Why ruin such a beautiful name?
Seraphine: a variation of the name Seraphina which comes from the Hebrew word seraph, which refers to celestial beings in Abrahamic religions. In Jewish scriptures, the seraphim are thehighest-ranking angels of God, known for their intense passion and love.
Even after speaking with her for a short time, I see how passionate this young woman is. Even if she doesn’t show it on the outside, it’s there, burning deep within her. Burning ones. Flaming. Glowing. All meanings for her name. It’s fitting.
Maybe I’ve become a little obsessed. Sue me.
“I’ve never been here before,” I say as we get in line. There are two people in front of us. “What’s good?” I glance down at her and try not to laugh at how terrified she looks. Her knuckles are pale as she clenches her purse strap that’s hanging over her shoulder.
“Uh… everything. I guess.”
“What are you getting?”
“Coffee. Muffin.”
I smile as I look over the menu hanging high on the wall behind the counters. It’s true I’ve never been here before, but I do enjoy coffee. I just find all these places overpriced and most of their coffee tastes like watered-down sewage. But I’m here for a purpose and I’ll indulge in a shitty cup of coffee for it.
It’s a nice place. In a good location with a steady stream of customers by what I saw while waiting for Seraphine to arrive. The people bustling about inside are a mix of students and business-class. Interns, if I had to guess.
“Good morning, what can I get you?” the young woman behind the counter asks once it’s our turn, beaming at us as if she truly enjoys her job. Let’s be serious. Does anyone actually enjoyworking in a place like this? Dealing with so many people who are likely grumpy from needing their caffeine fix? You couldn’t pay me enough to work in a place like this.
“Large caramel latte, please. With oat milk. And a banana nut muffin.” Seraphine speaks as if she’s on autopilot, forcing the words out like she doesn’t want to speak in front of me.
“I’ll take a large coffee black, please.”
“Anything to eat?” the woman asks.
“No, thank you,” I answer as I reach for my wallet.
“A name for the order?”
“Elliot.”
“I can pay for mine,” Seraphine says, reaching into her bag.
