Chapter 1: The Coffee Spill*
The morning bustle inside Bean Haven Café was loud enough to drown her thoughts. Ayra tucked a stray braid behind her ear and tightened her apron. Her legs ached from the early shift, and her fingers were stained with espresso, but none of it bothered her. It was the one place where life felt… still.
"Order up!" came the gruff voice of Tade, the kitchen manager, from behind the counter.
"Got it!" Ayra called back, grabbing the tray with practiced ease.
She wove her way past crowded tables, dodging a crying toddler and a teenager recording a TikTok. The moment felt like any other until it didn't.
As she turned a corner, tray balanced perfectly, she collided with something—or rather, someone—solid. The tray clattered to the floor. Coffee splashed forward in a wide arc, staining her apron and splattering across a clean, expensive-looking shirt.
Her eyes flew open. "Oh my God! I'm so, so sorry!" The man stood still, unmoving except for a single blink. His white shirt was now streaked with dark roast, the fabric clinging to him slightly. But he didn't yell. Didn't flinch. Instead, he looked down slowly at the mess, then up—right into her eyes.
Ayra's breath caught.
He was tall, maybe over six feet, and dangerously handsome in a clean, untouchable kind of way. His charcoal suit fit him too well to be off-the-rack. His watch looked like something you'd find in glossy magazines beside private jets and gold pens. But it wasn't the luxury that stunned her. It was the way he looked at her.
Not with disgust. Not with annoyance.
Curiosity.
"No harm," he said, voice calm and deeper than she expected. "Just… coffee."
She blinked, dumbfounded. "I—uh—I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking—"
"It's alright." A hint of a smile ghosted across his lips. "Happens."
She bent to grab the tray, but he beat her to it, crouching down and handing her a cup that hadn't shattered.
Their hands touched. Just for a second. But it was enough to make her pulse jump.
"Do you—um—want napkins?" she stammered, heart thumping in her chest.
"That would help." He still hadn't taken his eyes off her.
She turned quickly, fumbling for the counter where a napkin dispenser sat. Her mind was racing. What kind of man reacts to a hot coffee spill with patience? And why did he look at her like she was… interesting?
"I'm really, really sorry. If you want to speak to my manager—"
"I don't."
He took the napkins from her gently. Their fingers brushed again. Ayra told herself it was nothing. Just static. Just nerves.
She expected him to leave, but instead, he lingered, patting the coffee stain like it was no big deal.
"What's your name?" he asked, voice low, steady.
"…Ayra."
He nodded slightly. "Nice to meet you, Ayra."
"And you are?" she asked before she could stop herself.
But he was already walking away.
No name. No complaint. No mess.
Only the faint smell of cologne and that strange, magnetic calm he left in his wake.
Ayra stood there, stunned.
"Girl," Tade said from the kitchen window, "you okay?"
She nodded slowly, bending to clean the floor. "I think I just met someone important."
Ayra blinked. No name. No scolding. No complaint. Just a spill, a glance, and a strange calm that hadn't left her since he looked her in the eyes.
"Girl, are you okay?" said a familiar voice. Muna, her coworker, appeared by her side, eyes darting between her and the door. "Who was that? You look like you saw a ghost — or a fine man."
Ayra half-laughed, still dazed. "I think I just served someone very, very rich… and weirdly kind."
Muna raised a brow. "Girl, in this economy? That's suspicious."
Back behind the counter, Ayra tried to focus on her tasks. But she couldn't stop replaying the moment in her mind. His face. The calmness. The fact that he didn't give his name — but asked for hers.
And something else… something in the way he looked at her.
Like he already knew her.
She shook the thought off. Ridiculous.
He was probably just another man in a suit. One of those CEOs who visited cafés just to be seen as "normal."
Still… why had her heart reacted like that?
Why had his eyes looked both familiar and… guarded?
She'd never been one to believe in fated meetings or magical sparks. But something about today's coffee spill felt like a beginning — not a mistake.
Whatever that man was hiding behind that suit, Ayra had no idea that it would soon consume every corner of her life.
And that coffee spill…
…was just the first crack.