It’s Blake’s receipt for here, and I sent him off with a blueberry muffin. “Shit.”
“What is it?” Nassrine asks and fixes her glasses.
“I messed up Mr. Hellway’s order.”
“How so?” She pulls out a bottle of water and takes it to the register. I follow her. “I gave him a muffin.”
“Instead of a ham and cheese croissant?”
“Yup. He always orders the same thing?”
“Oh yes.” Nassrine throws a croissant into the oven to make it crispy. “Same time every morning. Same thing. Maybe OCD.Who knows, but his heart’s in the right place.” She takes out the croissant, puts it on a plate, and hands it to me. “His office is on the ground floor. Take a right, follow the wall past the front desk, then the narrow hallway. Security will ask questions. Tell them I sent you.”
I stand there. I cannot see Blake again. Not after last night and then this enlightening morning.
“Go,” Nassrine says with more force. “I can’t leave that man hungry.”
Grumbling, I leave the shop and follow her directions until I reach a pair of security men standing before a foggy glass door.
“I’m new at Vanilla Delights Coffee,” I say. “Delivery for Mr. Hellway.”
“He brings his own breakfast,” one security man says.
“Nassrine sent me.”
The massive guard with a devil tattoo on his neck purses his lips and taps the unit in his ear. He’s not even dressed as security. This is a bodyguard if I ever saw one. Even wears shades indoors. The man standing next to him stares straight ahead.
“Aisha, I have a girl from the coffee shop— Yes, ma’am.” The guard opens the door. “Smells great, by the way. What is it?”
“A crispy fresh ham and cheese croissant.”
The guard nods. I think I just passed the test. Nassrine said Hellway orders the same thing all the time, so the guard would know what it is.
I enter another lobby, this one quiet and dim, with vanilla-scented candles lit up in different places and a mini fountain with water dribbling down the wall. An older woman comes from around her desk, tossing a blueberry muffin wrapper into the bin as she walks toward the grand glass doors. “Go right in, dear.”
As if walking on eggshells, I enter his office. The door behind me closes and locks. Blake’s behind his desk, and he puts down his tablet and smiles. His smile disarms me. He’s…so very approachable. Warm in a way that makes me feel less horrible about messing up his breakfast.
I walk to the desk and put the plate on it. “Croissant for here. Not a muffin to go. I’m sorry about that.”
“It happens.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Had more pressing things to say. Picked one that seemed more important.”
“The gala dinner?”
He nods.
I can’t say no again. I just can’t do it. I’ll study when I get off work, do what I gotta do to make this gala dinner.
His eyes twinkle. “You’ve completely destroyed my morning, which means you’ve completely destroyed my day.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry.” The muffin wasn’t that bad. Jeez.
He stands and unbuttons his suit and loses his tie. “Close the blinds, would you?”
Um… Why? I don’t move.
