Chapter 2

Terrified, I mentally slapped myself for being so stupid and clumsy for spilling coffee all over my boss. His skin must have burned by now. Without thinking rationally, I looked at him to ask for forgiveness and to spare my life, but to my shock, I found myself staring at the arrogant man from the café.

"What the hell?!" he screamed—more like growled—and I swear the entire floor shook.

My eyes went wide, my mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. I couldn't find words to describe how stupid I felt about the whole situation. Who wouldn't, when the guy you mistook for a maniac is standing right in front of you? I couldn't believe that this cliché scenario from movies was now happening to me.

"Oh God, why does it have to be him?" I whispered.

"What?" the furious man asked.

"I... I..." Closing my eyes shut, I did the most appropriate thing to help him calm down—at least, that's what my mind came up with.

I put the cup down on the table, raised both of my hands to his chest, and started patting—up and down—to at least help dry his expensive coat and inner shirt. It was the best thing I could do, being trapped at the moment. Despite the situation, I couldn't help but notice how he froze under my touch, and the same stupid sparks I felt earlier when I slapped him returned.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

My hands stopped moving but stayed on his chest. His words came out as a mixture of pain and pleasure, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't find it sexy.

"I... I really didn't mean to..." Finally, my ability to speak returned. My head hung low with embarrassment.

He didn't speak, but he tore my palms away from his chest, holding my wrists firmly but not painfully. I started to wonder if this was what they called sparks—the tingles you feel when you finally meet your soulmate?

This isn't the right time to think about things like that, Carmela.

I mentally reminded myself.

"Don't. Touch. Me." Is this how he normally speaks? He honestly sounded like someone who has to swallow hard just to spit the words out, as if he were almost out of breath.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say. He just pushed me, and I nearly tripped and fell, but I was lucky to catch my balance quickly.

I didn't dare look at his face, knowing how mad he was. I could feel it—it was weird, but true. His emotion seemed to linger around me, making me sense how he felt. He moved and turned around.

Back in the pantry, I was so sure I'd fish out that man's eyes when I saw him again, but how could I do that knowing he was my boss?

"Or maybe not? I'm not even sure if he really is my boss. But, looking at him, he kind of looks like someone who owns a huge building. From the way he's dressed right now, he screams, 'I am filthy rich!'" I weighed the facts laid out in front of me.

I sneaked a peek at him. He was tall, and his body was well-built. One could tell he had abs, and his muscles seemed ready to burst out of his coat. He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking his time to catch his breath and sort things out while I gasped after a few seconds of assessing the man standing not too far from me.

"Oh shit," I cursed. I didn't want to think about it, but I guessed this was the part where he would decide whether to fire me or not.

I silently sent a prayer above, with my head bowed and my hands intertwined. I opened my eyes and mentally slapped myself again for being a weirdo in front of this man. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his eyes were full of emotions.

"What are you doing here?" His voice sounded calm, and for the first time, it sounded normal to my ears.

"I'm here for work," I replied, almost to myself. I panicked when he walked towards me. Powerful—that's how I would describe his strides.

He looked calm and intimidating at the same time, and my stupid brain couldn't stop thinking about how sexy he looked. I had to steal my eyes away from him and look at the walls behind him instead.

He stopped half a meter away from me, and like he did earlier at the café, he leaned forward to match his face with mine. With his breath fanning my skin, I couldn't help but look back at him, down to his lips. I gulped when he caught me staring at his lips, and he smirked. He looked arrogant, but darn it, it suited him well.

I could smell his cologne mixed with a woodsy scent, creating a perfect combination. I had a feeling he knew his presence was almost killing me as I drowned in his intoxicating aroma, unlike anything I'd ever smelled before, not even Ashton's expensive perfume.

He lifted my chin with his forefinger, sending tingles through my veins like a live wire. Beneath my skin, a tingling sensation spread, and I couldn't help but love it. Hypnotized by his touch and the mystery in his eyes, I noticed their unique color—a blend of dark brown and ash gray, something I'd never seen before. Our gazes locked, and in my mind, I'd pay anything to look into his pleading yet haunting eyes.

His eyes dropped to my lips, and he lightly brushed them with his right thumb. My lips parted slightly at the beautiful sensation. My breath hitched as he moved his face closer, but instead of kissing me, he whispered the words I never wished to hear, his lips almost touching my earlobe.

"You're fired."

My world came crashing down. A moment later, I saw him a few meters away from me, as if he had teleported. I started to think I had hallucinated it, but I was sure he had been right in front of me just seconds ago.

Trying to recover from the breathless state he had put me in, I rushed to him. When I caught up to his pace, I grabbed his arm, ignoring the sparks that twisted my stomach. He stopped and froze at my electrifying touch.

"Why did you fire me?" I asked, trying not to scream. He still wasn't facing me.

He shook his arm free from my grasp, and it was too much for me. Everything my boss did was new to me.

I couldn't be fired. Not on my first day. I hadn't even started my work or made new friends. I had been waiting for such an opportunity to come knocking, and now that it was here, it would be gone just like that? No, this wasn't what I had expected. I needed this job to pay my bills, for my house rent. I badly needed this job to survive alone.

Feeling hopeful, I crossed my fingers, hoping he was just kidding. That he didn't mean to fire me. That he was just in a bad mood and would later cool down and take back his words.

"Don't touch me."

His voice, like music to my ears, sent butterflies to my stomach. But that wasn't what mattered now. Brushing off the beautiful shivers, I tried to remain calm. Breathing in, I asked him again.

"Why did you fire me?" My voice sounded hurt but confident. He slowly turned his face to look back at me, just a glance over his shoulder, and with a groan, he said,

"First, you slapped me. Second, you got me all wet. Now, get lost." He went to his office, slamming the door shut, making me jump in both shock and fear.

I totally screwed up.