Chapter 4 4
The secretary stood frozen by the door, clutching her notepad.
“Sir, it was ordered from a small café downtown,” she began carefully, “run by a sixty-two-year-old woman—”
Lucas raised a hand, cutting her off.
“Find out who made it,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And send them an invitation.”
“An… invitation, sir?”
He didn’t look up from the cup. He was still tasting it—slowly, thoughtfully. The corners of his lips twitched.
He wouldn’t lie.
It tasted like something he hadn’t felt in years. Just like his Italian grandmother used to blend when he was a boy.
He leaned back in his chair, swirling what was left in the cup.
Lucas set the cup down with a quiet clink, his expression unreadable.
“I want you to send all the good-for-nothing coffee staff away,” he said flatly.
The secretary’s eyes widened. “S–sir?”
He looked up then, his gaze sharp enough to slice through glass.
“You heard me. Every single one of them. If they can’t make coffee worth drinking, I don’t need them anywhere near my building.”
“Yes, sir,” she managed, already trembling. Everyone in the company knew one thing about Lucas Brooks — he could tolerate mistakes, late reports, even market losses.
But not bad coffee.
As she hurried out, Lucas’s fingers brushed the cup again. He stared at the swirl of dark liquid and muttered under his breath,
“Whoever made this… they know exactly what they’re doing.”
As soon as his secretary left, the door creaked open — slowly
Of course, no one would dare enter without knocking.
Except her.
“Still obsessed with your coffee, I see,” came a low, teasing voice.
Lucas didn’t look up right away. He didn’t need to — he already knew that voice.
“Olivia,” he said flatly, closing his laptop. “You’re back.”
She stepped inside, her heels snapping against the floor, perfume trailing like smoke. “Miss me?” she asked, leaning against his desk, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Lucas gave her a look that could freeze lava. “Depends,” he said coolly. “Are you here for business… or another attempt at distraction?”
“Hmm, Mr. Brooks,” she murmured, brushing her fingers lightly along his neck, “I couldn’t get enough last night. You just had to run back to your precious work.”
Lucas gave a small, tired laugh and caught her wrist before she could continue.
“Olivia, that tickles,” he said, half-amused, half-warning.
She pouted playfully. “You’ve been buried in those numbers all morning. I thought I’d give you a reason to take a break.”
He released her hand and turned back toward his desk. “Tempting,” he said, his tone cool again, “but some of us actually work for what we have.”
Olivia rolled her eyes, tossing her hair back. “Always so serious.”
“Always so persistent,” he replied.
“I want you so bad,” Olivia whispered, her breath warm against his skin.
Before Lucas could react, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his neck — slowly.
He froze, jaw tightening, eyes shutting as his fists clenched at his sides. Every instinct told him to pull away… but he didn’t.
Olivia’s hands slid up his shoulders softly.
He exhaled sharply, frustration clouding his face. Damn it.
Because the truth was, he couldn’t bring himself to push her away — not completely.
Not when she had saved his mother’s life.
Olivia had been the one who’d donated blood after the accident that nearly took Mrs. Brooks. And if there was one thing Lucas didn’t play about, it was his mother.
So he stood there, eyes still closed, letting her believe he was giving in — even though his mind was miles away.
“Olivia…” he said quietly, his voice rougher than he meant it to be.
She looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, lips still grazing his collarbone.
“I think we should… stop,” he murmured, forcing himself to take a step back. “I’ll make it up to you later. Tonight.”
Her expression flashed with disappointment, then a coy smile as she smoothed a hand over his chest. “You always say that, Mr. Brooks.”
He gave a faint smirk but didn’t answer. His phone buzzed again on the desk — one short vibration that somehow cut through the air like thunder.
Olivia sighed and turned away, muttering, “Work before pleasure, always.”
Lucas glanced down at the phone.
One new message: Regarding the cafe delivery —
_________
Blair was wiping down the counter when the café phone rang.
“Bean & Brew, good morning,” she answered softly.
“Good morning,” came a polite female voice on the other end. “Am I speaking to Mrs. Blair Rivers?”
Blair blinked. Mrs.? “Uh—just Blair,” she corrected with a small laugh. “How can I help you?”
“Congratulations, Miss Rivers,” the woman said brightly. “Your coffee caught the attention of our company’s CEO. He was… quite impressed.”
Blair’s brows furrowed. “I’m sorry—our coffee?”
“Yes,” the caller continued. “From LB Corporation. The CEO personally requested that you handle tomorrow’s order yourself. He said—and I quote—‘No one else touches it.’”
Blair almost dropped the cloth in her hand. “Wait—he requested me?”
“That’s correct,” the woman said with a smile in her tone. “Please come in person tomorrow morning. The order’s already been paid for—double your usual rate. We’ll be expecting you.”
The line clicked off before Blair could reply.
She just stood there, staring at the phone, her heart pounding.
“LB Corporation?” she whispered. “Why would a billionaire care about a cup of coffee?”
Blair was still frozen by the counter, phone in hand, when the office door swung open.
“Blair!” Mrs. Odesse’s sharp voice cut through the air, but this time, it didn’t sound angry.
Her manager’s usually stern face wore something close to a smile — rare enough to make Blair’s heart skip.
“What… what is it, ma’am?” Blair stammered.
Mrs. Odesse crossed her arms, nodding with satisfaction. “That was LB Corporation. They just hired you personally for a standing coffee contract. You’re moving up, girl.”
Blair blinked. “Hired? Me?”
“Yes, you!” Odesse said, her tone almost giddy. “Do you know what that means? You can finally leave this rundown café. That neighborhood of yours too. I’ve been saying it — you’ve got talent.”
Blair let out a shaky breath, her hand trembling on the counter. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll make me proud before I retire next week,” Odesse replied, her voice softening for once. “You got lucky, Blair. Most people don’t get second chances in this city. Don’t waste it.”
Blair nodded, fighting the tears building behind her eyes.