Page 2 of The Boss Problem

I turned to go, heading to the counter where my Americano was ready.

Just as I went for the coffee cup, the handsome man swooped in.

He reached in front of me for the cup. “Ah,mycoffee. Thank you.”

Startled, I territorially put my hand on the lid of the cup while he held fast to the cup. Sure, he had broad shoulders, but that didn’t change the fact that he was unmistakably condescending. And it irritated me.

“Wait, no! That’s mine. I paid for it,” I said, even though Mia hadn’t written any name on the cup.

The man raised a cocky eyebrow, his charcoal suit not showing a single crease while he stepped forward. “Youpaid for it? Darling, you’re mistaken. I always get my coffee here, and I know when it is mine.”

His hand touched my fingers, and the touch felt like fire on my skin. My first instinct told me to yank my hand away—I had no business feeling tingly feelings today, of all days, with another man—before I realized he’d run off with my coffee if he had the chance.

Thank goodness he was a jerk. Those nerves in my stomach would disappear soon.

My voice trembling, I protested, “Look, I work really hard at my job just to afford this. It’s been a rough morning, and I need that caffeine boost.”

Leaning in, the beautiful man smirked, a look that only made him seem more irritatingly handsome. “Rough morning? I doubt your definition of rough matches mine. I practically own this place.”

My eyes narrowed. I’d had enough.

“Listen, dude,” I said firmly, “I don’t care if you’re a millionaire or the king of coffee. That cup is mine.”

He smirked, leaning casually against the counter. “Well, darling, I?—”

Before he could finish, I pulled the cup toward me. His hand slipped over mine, our hands collided, and hot coffee spilled onto the counter.

The barista looked up from the espresso machine, alarmed. “Whoa, folks! Easy there!”

Ignoring him, I stared at the man. “I won’t back down,” I said, my voice determined. “Not today.”

He wiped some of the coffee off his cuff before he looked at me, his intense expression unreadable. His gaze roved my face before he spoke slowly. “You’re quite the feisty one, aren’t you?”

I grabbed the now-free cup, my knuckles white. “Yes, and unlucky for you, today just happens to be my day.”

I clutched the cup to me just as he reached for it, grasping at the space where the cup was. Feeling victorious, I placed my two drinks into a cardboard tray, and picking up my drink and Bruce’s suit, I headed toward the door.

At the door, I paused and turned around for a last look at the coffeehouse man before I pushed the door open.

“Someone had to put him in his place,” I muttered.

He had turned around, and he was looking in my direction. Our gazes met, and for an instant, it was as if the air around me had charged up. I felt the intensity of his gaze pulling me in until, flustered, I turned away. But not before I had this odd, out-of-place thought.

He is totally the kind of guy I’d be attracted to if I wasn’t in love already. And if he wasn’t a jerk.

I walked out of the café and into the early September morning sun. I shook off all thoughts of the jerk as I looked around.

New York in the fall was beautiful if you asked me. New York at any time of the year was beautiful. Some people complained about the tourists, but I still loved the variety of people you met here.

Like the skateboard guy who showed up at our apartment daily, selling apples to fund his next movie. I didn’t like the premise of his movie—too violent—but I still bought his apples every day because dreams must be encouraged. If you didn’t stand up for another person’s dreams, how could you stand up for your own?

I didn’t have too many dreams at the moment. Getting married was one that was coming true soon. I figured I’d sort out the rest of my life later.

My regular day had three main priorities—taking care of my wheelchair-bound brother, Henry; working as an admin assistant in Mindwell Inc.; and spending time with Bruce.

Today, I wouldn’t be able to get to theworking as an admin assistantpart of my day and would barely spend time with Henry. Thankfully, Bruce lived not too far from here, and I couldn’t wait to surprise him with the cup of coffee.

I wasn’t going to let Bruce see me in my wedding dress, but I did want to hand over the tux at his doorstep. I wanted to see him before we met at the courthouse.

---