"I'm babbling." I press my lips together. "I'm sorry. About the coffee. About the glasses. About—" I gesture vaguely at all of him. "All of this."
He looks at the glasses still in my hand, takes them and puts them on. Then he pulls them back off, turns them over. There's a coffee smear across the left lens.
He pushes them up onto his head instead, which pushes his hair off his face.
Wow those eyes.
"Maybe next time watch where you're going."
"Right." I take a step back. "Yes. Absolutely. Sorry."
I'm still holding the napkins.
I look down at them — a fistful of thin paper squares, slightly damp, completely useless — and shove them into my pocket.
"I'm sorry," I say again. Quieter this time.
He doesn't respond. Just turns and walks down the block.
I stand there on the sidewalk, napkins still clutched in my hand, watching him go.
His gait is stiff. Annoyed.
The back of his shirt has a coffee stain the size of my hand.
Perfect. I turn and reach for the door, again.
Inside, the Donut smells like cinnamon and espresso. The usual morning crowd fills the tables, laptops open, headphones in, the low hum of focused work.
The Boss Babes are waiting in the corner booth.
I slide in and drop my bag with more force than I intend. The portfolio smacks against the table.
"Please tell me that's not an omen."
Liv looks up from her tablet. She's wearing her courtroom blazer. Her dark hair is pulled back in a neat bun, not a strand out of place.
Nadia and Priya exchange a glance.
"An omen?" Priya's trying not to smile. "You mean that you just crashed into a guy who looks like he walked off a beach volleyball court?"
My face goes hot. "He was a jerk."
"A jerk with excellent bone structure," Nadia clarifies, taking a sip of her latte.
She's in her usual workday uniform black merino crewneck, sleeves pushed neatly to mid-forearm, tucked into tailored cigarette trousers that skim clean to the ankle. A sleek black watch circles her wrist. Sapphire studs, nearly the exact shade of her eyes, glint beneath her shoulder-length curls.
Nadia slides her untouched latte across the table. "You forgot to get coffee, didn't you?"
I stare at the cup. I was so rattled by the heat of his chest and the sheer fury in his eyes that I completely bypassed the counter.
"I don't get flustered. I don't lose control of a morning. And I definitely don't stand on a sidewalk wiping a gorgeous stranger's chest with cheap napkins."
"Sam." Liv sets her tablet down, her voice gentle but firm. "You had a thirty-second blind-spot collision with a hot guy you will literally never see again. It's fine to be a little rattled. But right now, you have a presentation to win."
She's right. I take a sip of the latte. Perfect temperature.
Okay." Priya checks her phone. "You need to leave in twenty minutes. That gives you time to be early, set up the room how you want it, and not walk in flustered like you just did here."
