Behind Blue Eyes

Chapter 4 Amina

The barista places my order on the counter. I grab it and head over to the corner. Amber follows behind me. "I'll be over there." She says while walking to the table right by the window. I smile at her and grab a stirring stick. Being honest, I don't really need coffee right now. I'll need it later. I have a strong feeling I am going to be in the office really late tonight.

I grab my coffee and try to turn around. I say try because my face slammed right into a chest. A rock-hard chest that is wearing my coffee.

My mouth drops so far down it feels like it hit the ground. "I am so sorry!" I say grabbing too many napkins to count. I have never been in this position before. Do I try to dry him off? Do I hand him the napkins and walk away?

"Oh gosh." I say as I try to dry the coffee off him. Of course, he is wearing a white shirt that looks more expensive than my rent. "What do I owe you?" I ask. "That shirt looks pricy." I laugh.

I look up at him and I freeze. His jaw is clenched and so are his fists. My cheeks feel like they are a bright shade of red. I swear this eye contact lasts longer than a minute, but I break it because I can't stand someone looking at me like that.

Biting down on my tongue, I continue trying to get the coffee off him, but I don't manage to help the situation at all.

He grabs my hands. "Just stop," he says quickly letting go. "It's fine."

Turning away, he shoots me one last glare before walking out of the coffee shop.

His hands felt ice cold. Completely opposite from mine. I let the air out of my lungs as I try to catch my breath. Amber is staring at me with a look that just tells me she is sorry for me. Or embarrassed for me. Maybe both.

"I know what you're thinking," taking a seat next to her I slouch in my chair. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's fine. But can we talk about him? I'm sorry," she shakes her head. "That man was sculpted by ancient Greek gods."

A harsh laugh fills the room. A laugh that belonged to me. "He was an asshole, Amber. He may have been sculpted by them, but his personality wasn't."

Her eyes roll. "Mia, you don't even know him."

"I don't think I need to," I say as I grab her coffee. "I know men like that."

"And I know girls who spill their coffee and steal someone else's," her hand reaches towards me. "That's mine, give it."

My head falls between my shoulders. Like I said before, my day is going fantastic.

...

It's ten o'clock. At night. I stared at the list Jason emailed me for a solid three hours before I found a good way to go about this situation. I take out a post it note and write down a list of people I need to call once I am back in the office tomorrow. I decided that calling them in a certain order might help my day go smoother. The order goes: Mr. Cole, Mr. Smith, and finally, Mr. Hammington. Most difficult client, to less difficult.

"This is good, this is a good thing." I tell myself. I stand up and stretch. The entire office is empty. I know I'm here late, and that Jason would kill me if he found out, but this is good. I want to be viewed as the person who was able to do this.

Mr. Cole is one of the biggest clients for the LeBlanc company. The reason he is one of our most difficult clients is because he wants his structures bigger than the lot allows.

It's not hard to understand and sometimes I think I need to meet up with him and write it out for him. The note would look something like this: It's very hard work, Mr. Cole. You see, if your lot is one acre big, you can't have a building that is eighty-seven thousand one hundred and twenty square feet. That would require two acres, are you following me?

But, even if I wrote it out for him, I still don't think he would be able to comprehend it. Either way, I have to find a way to explain it to him. Like Jason said, buildings are being shut down, and if we don't have clients then that means I don't have a job.

I reach for my phone and start playing music to calm my nerves. Clare De Lune. It reminds me of the trips my dad would always take my brother and I on. Believe it or not, when you live in Germany, trips to Paris are casual. Germany is relatively small.

I laugh at it now, it seems like a lifetime ago- it was, that's why.

"Do I need to know?" An unfamiliar voice says.

"Shit!" I yell. I thought no one was here, so excuse me if I lose my shit. My eyes narrow as I stare at the man walking towards my desk. The man who is wearing a very fashionable coffee stain. "Oh, it's you." I roll my eyes. What the hell is he doing here? Do I have a stalker now?

His strides stop. He looks offended by my words. He shouldn't, he was rude to me this morning. I do see what Amber was talking about, he looks very attractive. Honestly, I feel like attractive is an understatement for a man that looks like this.

The very attractive man continues walking towards me and places a coffee on my desk. Does he know that staring is considered rude? At least the way he stares is rude. He looks at me like I'm the shit he has to scrape off his shoe. "Is that for me?" I am hesitant to ask.

His head nods but only in the slightest way. I don't think I understand anything about this situation. His kind gesture doesn't not match the look on his face.

I mean, his words match his looks, so that counts for something. "Go home." He says while leaving the office. My head tilts while I try to process what just happened. He followed me, brought me coffee, and then leaves without even acknowledging what just happened.

Before I can ask any of my questions, the glass door slowly closes as he leaves.