A COFFEE ACCIDENT AND AN IMPOSSIBLE REACTION
By the next morning, Emilia arrived thirty minutes early.
Not ten.
Not fifteen.
Thirty.
She wasn't taking chances with elevators, footsteps, or breathing the wrong way in front of her boss.
Maya greeted her with a cup of coffee and a grin.
"Good morning, survivor."
Emilia laughed a little despite herself. "Morning."
"You're early," Maya teased. "Trying to impress him?"
"No," Emilia said quickly. "I'm trying not to get fired."
Maya chuckled. "Same thing, honey. Same thing."
But what Emilia didn't expect was that Alexander was already in his office.
She heard his voice through the door—low, irritated, and sharp.
"No, Daniel, that's not acceptable," he said to someone on the phone.
"I expect results. I don't want the same excuse next week."
So he does get angry, Emilia thought.
She quietly organized her schedule for the day, making sure everything was perfect.
But thirty minutes later, something horrible happened.
She spilled coffee.
Not on herself.
Not on her papers.
On him.
It happened in slow motion.
She stepped into his office to place a document on his desk.
He rose from his chair unexpectedly.
She turned too quickly.
Her elbow hit the cup.
Hot coffee splashed across the sleeve of his crisp white shirt.
Emilia froze.
Her soul left her body.
Time died.
"I—I'm so sorry," she whispered, voice shaking. "Sir—I didn't mean—"
She expected fury.
Coldness.
Something sharp.
But Alexander didn't yell.
He didn't even look annoyed.
He looked at her.
Just her.
And he said quietly,
"It's fine."
Emilia felt tears sting her eyes.
"No, it's not, I ruined your shirt—"
"I have others."
His voice was calm, steady… almost gentle.
He took a step toward her, and she stepped back instinctively.
His brows lowered slightly.
"Miss Grace."
"Yes?" Her voice cracked.
"You're trembling again."
Emilia looked down. Her hands were shaking violently.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't… I don't want to mess up. This job means a lot to me."
For the first time, something shifted in his expression.
He looked… human.
Less ice, more warmth.
Barely visible, but there.
"What happened to your previous job?" he asked unexpectedly.
Emilia hesitated. "My mother is sick. I needed something that pays better."
Silence.
Then he said something she never imagined:
"Take a breath."
"…Sir?"
"You're panicking. Take a breath."
She inhaled shakily.
"Again," he said.
And she obeyed.
Slowly, her shaking eased.
He glanced at his sleeve. "It's only coffee. I've experienced worse."
"I'm really sorry," she whispered again.
"You already said that."
And then he did something that almost made her knees give way.
He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his wrist cuff, and rolled up his stained sleeve right there in front of her.
Calm.
Effortless.
Completely unbothered.
"Go prepare the meeting documents," he said. "And bring them when you're ready."
Then he paused.
"And Miss Grace…"
She looked up nervously.
"Yes, sir?"
"I don't hire people to scare them."
Her breath caught.
"You're not in danger of losing your job. Relax."
He turned back to his desk, already focused on another file.
But Emilia stood there for a full three seconds, stunned.
Not because he wasn't angry.
But because he cared enough to say that last part.
She stepped out of the office, heart pounding.
Maya rushed over immediately.
"What happened? You look like you saw heaven—or hell—"
Emilia whispered, "He wasn't angry."
Maya gasped.
"He wasn't angry? At coffee? On his shirt?"
Emilia nodded slowly.
Maya's eyes widened.
"Oh honey… this is getting interesting."
Emilia mentally slapped herself.
No.
It wasn't interesting.
It wasn't anything.
Alexander Blackwood wasn't… interested.
He was simply… unpredictable.
But as she walked back to her desk, she realized something unsettling.
For the first time—
She wasn't afraid of him anymore.
She was intrigued..