The little cafe on maple Street smelled like comfort. The kind of comfort wrapped in cinnamon,roasted beans and a faint sweetness of pastries just out of the oven.
Lily tightened her grip on the leather strap of her laptop bag. With her other hand, she clutched a Manila folder close to her chest, like it was her life support. Inside were her carefully printed charts, notes and slides for the big presentation she had been preparing for weeks .
Her first real assignment at the new architecture firm. Her chance to prove herself .
And she was late.
The line at the counter crawled like a snail , and she shifted her weight from one heel to the other. Just a quick coffee, Lily told herself. A cappuccino will keep your hands from shaking during the meeting. Just breathe.
She tried to breathe, but her nerves were louder than her thoughts.
She finally got her order, balancing the steaming cup with her folder, and started toward the exit. She was so focused on making it back to her car in time that she didn't notice the tall man charging through the door — until it was too late.
Crash.
Liquid splattered, papers flew , and time seemed to slow .
"Oh - no" a deep male voice muttered.