Page 40 of Colliding with the Coffee Shop Owner
"The story I've told no one?"
"Yes." He shifts slightly, his expression softening, though his intensity remains. "True intimacy isn't physical. It's the act of confiding our worst fears, of taking that giant leap and being truly seen." His fingers finally make contact with my skin, a featherlight touch at my nape that sends goosebumps cascading down my arms. "I want the parts of you that you keep hidden. The truths you guard."
I swallow hard, torn between the desire to open up and the certainty that my past will extinguish whatever is kindling between us. A tech executive like him would run at the first mention of corporate espionage. The words "corporate spy" have a way of ending conversations, ending possibilities.
But his eyes stay locked on mine, patient and expectant, and I find myself wanting to trust him with this buried piece of myself. So I do the one thing I decided I’d never do. I give him the truth.
I start, "I worked for a tech company in San Francisco. We were developing analytics software for specialty coffee preparation." The confession feels like venturing onto thin ice, but I keep my eyes forward and the words clipped, as if detachment could protect me.
Max's expression shifts, recognition flickering in his eyes. "BrewTech. They had that scandal a few years back. Something about intellectual property theft."
That was me—or at least the lies spread about me.
"That's the one." My heart rate accelerates. This is the moment when I should tell him everything. Instead, I chicken out and offer the barest outline. "I worked there, and when everything fell apart, I left the tech world behind."
Chapter 14
He studies me,head tilted slightly. "There's more to that story."
"There is." I meet his gaze steadily. "But tonight isn't about BrewTech."
His hand finds my wrist, fingers circling it completely, the pressure gentle but unmistakably commanding.
"You're right, Lily. It's not about BrewTech." His voice drops lower, that same tone that had sent shivers through me earlier. "It's about you. And I want to knowyourstory."
The way he says my name—like he's tasting it, claiming it—makes resistance feel impossible. His thumb strokes the pulse point at my wrist, a subtle reminder of his earlier words about control.
"Why?" The question escapes before I can stop it.
"Because nothing about you is what I expected." His eyes hold mine, unyielding. "I've watched you for days, learning your rhythms, your expressions. But tonight I'm discovering who you really are, and I want all of it. All of you." He pauses, his grip tightening fractionally. "So tell me."
The authority in his voice wraps around me like a physical touch, and I find myself responding to it before my mind can catch up.
"I developed the core algorithms that made BrewTech's product revolutionary." The confession spills out, unstoppable now that it's begun. "Eric Denton—he was my boss, and my boyfriend. I’m not proud of that, but I was young and he was…" The word tastes bitter.
"Your boss." Max’s lips twist, but he waits for me to continue.
"When the company started getting acquisition offers, he stole my work, erased my contributions from the system, and when I confronted him, he planted evidence suggesting I was trying to sell proprietary code to competitors."
Max's expression remains perfectly controlled, but something flashes in his eyes—sharp, dangerous.
"He was thorough," I continue, unable to stop now. "By the time the investigation concluded, my reputation was destroyed. Labeled a corporate spy, blacklisted from every tech company in the Valley. I was unhireable." My laugh sounds hollow even to my own ears. "So I came here. Where no one would know or care about tech world scandals, and I brew coffee in Angel’s Peak, at least until I’m kicked out."
"Kicked out?"
"I’d rather not talk about that, if that’s okay."
"Of course." He places a hand on my knee. "I’m interested in you. Very interested, but I’m not interested in pushing past boundaries you’re not willing to cross. We’ll table that until you’re ready."
"Thanks."
His thumb continues its rhythmic stroke against my wrist, the only indication that he's processing what I've told him. For a long moment, he says nothing, and I brace myself for thewithdrawal, the coolness that inevitably follows when people learn my story.
"Eric Denton," he finally says, the name precise and clinical on his tongue. "The same Eric Denton who's now CTO at Meridian Tech?"
I nod, surprise flickering through me. "You know him?"
"By reputation. His security protocols are inadequate, and he’s reckless." Something shifts in Max's expression, a calculated darkness that sends a different kind of shiver down my spine.
